dramaturgy: ([BSG] Starbuck is unhappy.)
I have so much I want to talk about. But since brevity is the soul of wit and tediousness the limbs and outward flourishes, I will be brief.

My sister is still in Japan of this moment. She's okay, there wasn't much damage in Nagoya from the earthquake, but she's going (I keep typing 'coming' but I'm not there) home for a bit and she'll get in on Monday. I don't know if my mom will ever let her go anywhere ever again, but maybe now at least she won't drive me crazy for a bit. I love my mother and understand being worried, but seriously. (I also understand that she is ~mother and her worry probably outshines any that I had -- and I was a bit worried but my sister is a smart girl and the Japanese know how to handle it.) I told Gretchen to grab something good when the looting started, but apparently they don't do that. Which is cool.

Sunday I went and saw Angels in America at Signature again. They changed the cast, and Michael Urie was playing Prior so obviously I had to go. As much as I hesitate to say it... Michael Urie is totally my Prior. Justin Kirk is wonderful in the film, and Christian Borle was amazing, but Michael? He was inspired. He was just the perfect combination of righteous, queeny rage, fear, awareness of the absurdity of it all, and at times, utter contempt for the world around him. And how he looks in a dress is exactly as unfair as you would think it is.

Adam Driver was a newcomer as Louis. I LOVED him. He LOOKED like a neurotic Jewboy, and had amazing comic timing. At first I thought he was a little stiff but I warmed up to him. I actually ended up liking Louis a little lot more than I usually do -- which isn't necessarily a bad thing. Considering some of the things he does, it increases my sympathy and emotional reaction when he does or says reprehensible things. Truthfully, Bill Heck puts too much ANGRY~ in his Joe for my taste. I get that he's supposed to be confused and maybe a bit self-loathing, but I don't think I should fear for Harper's safety when they're arguing. I didn't like Keira Keeley (I think that's her name) as Harper as much as I liked Zoe Kazan. Zoe was a bit younger, more ethereal -- I could believe she went flying and saw ex-drag queens in her hallucinations, but Keira went a bit more zombiesque with her interpretation at times. And there was a lot of yelling. :\ Bill Porter was still Belize and he was STILL fabulous. Jeffrey Wright is Jeffrey Wright but Bill Porter was DIVAING OUT. The angel was good. I don't know if I like her as much as Robin Weigert, but it was a different interpretation. A lot more human at all times, not just sometimes.

I didn't want to stalk too much -- stagedooring Off-Broadway is a different culture than Broadway shows, I'm finding -- but I wanted to fangirl Michael Urie a little and was under orders from [livejournal.com profile] occultebelta to do so. So he signed my copy of The Temperamentals and told him I'd enjoyed that play as well, I'm teaching it in my 101 class this semester (last semester wasn't so impressed with Angels), and it was in part due to that play that I want to pursue my MFA project in queer dramaturgy. I voiced a concern about identifying straight -- in my experience, cautious self-deprecation and disclaiming works out better in the end when it's genuine -- and he blew it off. He said, "You may have more to say than a queer artist." So therefore I intend to make no more apologies about it. Onward and upward. Michael Urie said so.

Last week I applied and interviewed for a customer service position at Old Navy -- so basically what I'd been doing at Lane Bryant, but I'll be able to do it in jeans. Except when they offered me the position and tried to set up a time for me to come in for training and such, they proceeded to ignore the availability I gave them when I applied and tried to get me to come in Monday during classtimes, Tuesdays when I'm teaching, and damn. I don't even. Why? So I gave him my availability AGAIN and he said he'd call back. That was Wednesday. So if this is going to be a chronic problem I'm not sure I want to work for them. Because my school and teaching job are going to come first. Sorry. The end.

I had two major writing assignments due last Monday. Of course I left them until the last minute. One was a ten minute play, which I actually ended up being proud of despite not considering myself a playwright (it's hard to give all the information the audience needs just in dialogue without being didactic or fake). I got a B+ on a paper on Elizabethan foreign policy. I probably would have gotten higher if I'd been able to bother with MLA formatting and edit properly, but no. She did compliment my handling of the history though, so I will take it.

I've sort of started using my tumblr that I made to see what the fuss was about. And when I say 'using' I mean I'm reblogging shit like it's going out of style. It's here.

I am giving serious thought as to when I want to move, and 'soon' is what comes to mind. Twice this week I have been woken at 9:30 by a roommate (the same roommate) wailing the song "Fuck You" at the top of her voice. First of all, that's a god awful song 24/7, and second, 9:30 is not the proper hour to be shouting songs.

I just have this fear of not having enough money to stay in an apartment elsewhere and getting evicted and having to live in my car. Which is stupid. But I get anxious, I get depressed about being anxious, I get anxious because I don't get anything done when I'm depressed and it piles up, etc.

Also, Galileo is going to suck. And that is an objective assessment.
dramaturgy: ([DW/T] Ten/Rose :D)
It is [livejournal.com profile] thinkatory's birthday today.



Yes, David, I'm excited too. If I had the time, this would be a proper, pretty picspam like some of my others but since I'm exhausted, Kitty will just have to enjoy her present this way, as is. dealwithit.gif

The laws of Time are mine and they WILL obey me! )
dramaturgy: ([Glee] Fuck yeah!)
So my mom ad I are watching Patrick Stewart in Macbeth on PBS, and my mom is getting frisky.

[23:21] tooth_fairy2003: He looks remarkabley buff in that shirt, for a man his age. What is his age? Is he married?
[23:21] Liz: Acting is surprisingly physical.
[23:22] Liz: And he's 70. XD
[23:22] tooth_fairy2003: My, my...
[23:22] tooth_fairy2003: I could use a sugar daddy
[23:22] Liz: LOL
[23:23] Liz: MY daddy might have something to say about that.
[23:23] Liz: I, however, am fair game.
[23:23] tooth_fairy2003: He's pretty buff himself
[23:23] Liz: I'll take your word for it.
[23:24] tooth_fairy2003: I used to watch you on Star Trek when I was a little girl is a great pick up line
dramaturgy: ([SPN] Anna.)
So this teaching thing.

Being a little bit more awake than the drooling idiot I was last night (even after my nap) I have this to say: I did okay but the only thing I keep thinking as I ended class was, "Man. I don't want to do that ever again." Except I kind of have to. :\

I watched the end of Pillars of the Earth last night, which was amazing. You couldn't swing a dead cat without hitting some sort of massive talent. I think they actually did an amazing job of making people age without doing much at all -- ten years looked like ten years. I think there is probably a lot to be said about it being a clean version of the Middle Ages -- but come on. We don't watch these things because we want to see people wallowing in mud. And it was the late Middle Ages. >_>

Besides. Eddie Redmayne was pretty. (He was sporting some facial hair near the end there and looking hot. And if you know me, I don't usually do facial hair on guys.)
dramaturgy: Jonathan Groff in "The Bacchae," August 2008. ([Misc] Bacchae.)
I am watching the British version of Who Do You Think You Are. I downloaded Stephen Fry and David Tennant, although right now I'm watching Rupert Penry-Jones (om nom nom) because I can. He's traveled to India because his mother's family was British army in India, and it is so damn gorgeous. I am reminded how I'd like to travel to southeast Asia. I wouldn't go alone, though, because I've seen Bridget Jones: Edge of Reason. People will stick shit in your suitcase and before you know it, you're a drug mule.

But I'd love to visit India. And Cambodia, Vietnam, Thailand, but like I said, I wouldn't want to go alone. For safety reasons, as well as that sort of thing would just be more fun with someone else. I mean, I've traveled alone before, but Europe is... different. That sounds kind of awful, I know, but it is what it is.

This show is fascinating and I'm such a nerd, but it's amazing. Rupert Penry-Jones has been chasing after his mother's side of the family, where there was a family legend that they had some Indian blood in them. Lo and behold, a baptism record showed one of his ancestors was an "Indo-Briton" and now he can go even further back. *glee*

I've started putting stuff in my car, and packing things. I might make it back yet.

ETA: And now I'm watching Stephen Fry who is, of course, a total scream. "Oh how extraordinary! Look what it says: pauper inmate. Oh my god, he's a pauper inmate at the Lewisham Workhouse in the High street! How fantastic, how Dickensian! We have come a long way, we Frys."
dramaturgy: ([Misc] 500 Days of Summer.)
Since I have absolutely nothing better to do these days than trawl the internet and post links, today, you get an interview with Eddie Redmayne by Black Book Magazine. HEARTS. I love Eddie, I think he's a monstrously talented actor who is going to go so, so far. You can read my review at Theatre Geekery on Red for the full extent of my fangirling on that matter, but suffice to say he and everyone else blew me away.

So a couple of entries ago I posted an essay by Adam Rapp talking about the life that a work has after it leaves the author's hands. Today, a piece of the interview has me wondering: whose interpretation of a character is more valid?
<There’s a scene where Ken is talking to someone on the phone, trying to decide whether to show Rothko his own paintings. Who was he talking to?
That’s a very good question. I think it’s his girlfriend, and John Logan (the writer) thinks it’s his boyfriend. It remains a bone of contention between the two of us.

Understand: this is a person who is never on stage, never spoken about between Rothko (Alfred Molina) and Ken. The matter is never brought up, and if it is, I think it is only indirectly -- I think Rothko might jeer Ken and taunt him about playing with his friends or something, but it's not a discussion. So I can see (and I know that there are several people out there going) where someone would say: does it really fucking matter?

The answer is yes, it does really fucking matter. Even though you may not think twice about it, sexual orientation is a huge part of a character, especially when we're talking about a time period like the 1950's, when Red takes place. Even if it is never the focal point of a single conversation that the character has, it's still going to inform everything else they do as an integrated part of their character. This is an argument I've had many times and I'm sorry for being so blunt about it, but yes, if you want a fully formed character who comes across as a person and not just a meat puppet on stage, it does matter.

Now that I've gotten that soapbox out of my system for the minute, my real question is this: is the playwright's interpretation of the character more valid than the actor's? Why or why not?

I don't think that it necessarily is, in this case, since it's not a large part of the dramatic action of the play. But it interests me and as a dramaturg it's something I'd like to talk to both of them about, but while I'm dreaming I also want a pony and to live in a treehouse on a desert island.

(For the record, I thought that Ken was talking to his sister on the phone -- the only other person of any significance mentioned in regards to him. The language doesn't necessarily indicate a romantic relationship, from what I remember, and it seemed reasonable enough to me at the time.)
dramaturgy: ([Tudors] Katherine Howard.)
Om nom nom Indian food. I just met [livejournal.com profile] dmp and her affianced and they are so much fun. I even think I managed to stay away from talking about myself too much, hooray! They looked awesome in their steampunk gear and I felt rather underdressed in my jeans and Hawkeyes t-shirt. They are here for I-Con and I am a little miffed that this is taking place at my OWN SCHOOL and I had to hear about it from Diana.

But yes. Anyway. I have a picture of my car!

Cut. )

He's pretty. I'm pretty sure it's a he. I don't have any ideas for names yet. He rides very smooth though. Wednesday morning was a headache because I was trying to figure out parking permit stuff. I called the office when they opened and they said if I put my stuff in online it would be ready by nine. I cheerily said okay!! and went down there. I got there about ten after nine and they couldn't find it. So they said I'd have to go to the bursar's office. I went to the bursar's office, and they said I'd have to bring in my registration. So I went and got it out of my window, but it's only a temporary registration, which they don't take. At this point I was pretty pissed because, what the hell people. I think the lady felt bad for me because I'm sure I looked like my head was going to explode, and so she got the student parking people to write me a temporary parking pass. Argh.

Wednesday night, I saw The Pride with [livejournal.com profile] strangerface and her sister, which I loved. I wrote a nice, thoughtful post on my theatre blog, and you can read that if you want, but here I'm going to do the fangirling.

If you've read this journal ever, you know that Ben Whishaw is one of my favorite actors and if they sold tickets to a performance of him reading out of a phone book I would probably go. But it was tired, it was a Wednesday, and I was getting a little headachey, so I was torn on whether or not to try and stagedoor this mofo. We walked out and kept on walking, and I left Emily and Bridget to take the 1 up to Penn. Except I went into the 'Downtown' entrance which is not where I needed to go. So I got up the stairs and it hit me: that was a sign. I went back to the theatre.

I wish I'd been cool enough to say something besides HI THANKS FOR COMING TO NY I LOVED THE PLAY CAN YOU PLEASE SIGN, but [livejournal.com profile] roseanna is going to teach me her ways. Apparently she can channel her nervous energy into being cute rather than awkward. But yes. Hugh Dancy was a total gentleman with a gorgeous smile and almost a little too [livejournal.com profile] codeswitching for me to not be weirded out (I'M SORRY I KILLED YOU, luckily, did not fall out of my mouth). Adam James was hilarious and now when I watch Planet of the Dead I'm going to be on the lookout for him. Ben Whishaw BEN WHISHAW was very nice, a bit... shyer seeming, but I did the hi, hello, thanks for the show bit, and told him I was a very big fan -- god, why am I so cliche? He thanked me, said "Cheers" (the British are so adorable), and by this time the others who had stuck around to stagedoor had realized that he was the other guy. Andrea Riseborough was lovely as well. She reminded me a lot of a girl I was at Coe with in theatre. XD None of them were a bit short, and were very happy to be there, I think.

I was too nervous to get pictures, but, playbill? )

Also, only somewhat unrelatedly as one of my first impressions of Ben was "he's a bit shorter than I thought he might be," I realized that thanks to the freakishly tall men in my family, I have a skewed perception on what "tall" is. Being 5'8" myself probably doesn't help.
dramaturgy: ([SPN] Suicidal teddy bear.)
So for want of anything else to do on a Saturday night, I went to Bank of America's website (one of the two banks with ATMs on campus, and the only one off Long Island) and signed up for checking/savings accounts so I can get my New York residency. Monday I'll have to go see what I have to do to change my direct deposit account. :x

I DON'T WANT TO GROW UP AND BE AN ADULT. MAKE IT STOP.

ETA: Also, why does the universe hate me? Why is there a SPN con in Chitown right after I leave the Midwest? This can't be a coincidence. Because I could have been in the same room at that right there.

I'm sorry. You know what a man in a vest and tie does to me.

I'd kind of like to go to one. Because now that 5x09's aired I can only imagine the meta meta that will be going on will be FANTASTIC.
dramaturgy: ([Celebs] Moar Ben Whishaw.)
It's Kitty's birthday today! (Well tomorrow where she is, but it's her birthday here in EST.)

If you've ever seen Ben Barnes, then I don't need to tell you how gorgeous this kid is. Personally, I really think it's the luminous smile that brings it all together in one hot package, but I also think that the hair is going to rule the world one day. It's nicer than mine. It makes me hate him a little. But then he's smiling and I'm okay again. Yeah. Moving on.



It's Ben F*#%ing Barnes. )
dramaturgy: ([FF/S] TRAAAAAAAP!)
Today I was supposed to work 10-1 in the shop, and 10-12 there is a lab of undergrads in there. It is FUN, teaching undergrads how to sew. Funish. >_> I was only in there until 12 today, though, since there wasn't really anything for me to do, and HOORAY that meant that I could take the 12:40 train into the city instead of the 2:40. I arrived, walked about 284503958 blocks, bought a wheely cart so that I can take my groceries on the bus and not break my arms from a man in a dodgy shop on 14th Street, and took a subway ride. All in all, it was good clean fun.

And then [livejournal.com profile] strangerface and I met at the Apple store in SoHo to stalk Nathan Fillion, our Captain Tightpants. It was a good time. Unfortunately, Apple didn't allow recording or photography during the talk and since I didn't want to get kicked out, I obeyed the rules like a good little girl. >_> It was awesome! He's totally a performer. He's very funny, very gracious, and every answer he gives is not like, OH I HAVE GIVEN THIS ANSWER A MILLION TIMES ALREADY. And he's even more gorgeous in person than he is on film. ♥

If you want to listen to the interview, it was recorded for a podcast series called Meeting The Filmmakers or something like that, and I'm sure if you Google it or search on the Apple site you can find it.

Nathan had to dash~* right after the program, but he was pretty gracious about signing a few things for some people. (I felt a lot less awkward hovering with fifty people rather than it being just Em and me.) We didn't talk to him, but I snapped these pictures and we both just generally basked in his gorgeous wonderfulness. And he was wearing those jeans, if you know what I mean.

Yessir, Captain Tightpants. )
dramaturgy: ([Celebs] Misha makes kittens!)
Minions did it! We got as high as fourth in Twitter's trending topics with #mishasminions. So in honor of the commandant's birthday, I have compiled a picspam of The Man, The Men, and the Angel. The pictures either came from misha-collins.net or [livejournal.com profile] shea, who has amazing logoless caps of some SPN eps. They all belong to their respective owners and Misha still belongs to himself. Can't have it all, I guess.



I'm the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition. *LOVE* )
dramaturgy: ([SPN] Betrayal.)
A few mere months ago I thought Twitter was stupid and it kind of is but I can be a stupid person. So here is what I've been up to, according to my Twitter updates.

SUNY is still driving me nuts. I e-mailed the graduate school today, although. Augh. I am trying not to get my knickers in a twist over it but my knickers are pretty twisty to begin with.

Tuesday when I was driving to work some idiot teenagers (seriously these guys had a couple years in high school left) were trying to play games with me. I was going 70 or so (running late >_>) and they were going 65, so whatever. I was getting ready to pass, and then they sped up. I sped up because I wasn't really thinking about it, and they sped up. So I could see they were going to be douchebags (i.e. I actually looked at them through my windows and they were both grinning at me like the shit eating dirtbags they are) and did what any mature adult would do. I slammed on my brakes, got behind them, and tailgated when they continued to play Speed Up, Slow Down with me. So in conclusion, yes, I am amazing and mature. But they started it.

And then I get to work and we get our new marketing stuff, my boss and I find that the new marketing not only makes more work for us and it is stupid. I am only glad my last day is soon so I don't actually have to learn any of that crap.

Yesterday I watched the first couple episodes of The Bedford Diaries, a short lived show on WB that wasn't picked back up when they became the CW. There are only eight episodes and I love to watch Milo Ventimiglia... well, doing anything. I am only a red-blooded female. Although seeing him in a pink polo shirt killed me a little.

And now today I have to go to work. Again.
dramaturgy: ([Heroes] Paramedic.)
So an ER visit is not how I like to start my day (unless I could get Peter Petrelli to be my paramedic, in which case I would probably have more "accidents"). Not to alarm everyone, there weren't any paramedics involved this time around, just me. I woke up a few different times during the night with a tight chest -- as in, HOLY FUCK CAN'T BREATHE -- and did my best to remedy it. When I woke at 3, the inhaler kind of worked but not enough to where I was comfortable enough to go back to sleep. So I sat in the bathroom while I ran the shower on hot and the steam helped a lot. So I went back to sleep and woke up about a quarter of five, same story. Except this time inhaler didn't work and neither did the shower (and YES I was starting to panic but I was trying NOT to panic because I know that wouldn't help). I even got dressed and sat outside for a bit just in case it was something in the house. But I panicked anyway and since my mom is at my grandmother's and I would have felt guilty calling and waking her up (because trust me, my mom is not awake right now), I drove myself to the ER.

It only took about 30 minutes all in all (DeWitt's ER is not exactly County General or Seattle Grace, here), and the doctor gave me a script for prednisone to open up my bronchial tubes. They gave me a dose there too and it seems to be working. I just hate that this indicates that I am now clearly an adult because all I can see is the dollar sign attached to everything. I hate money, and I hate not being clear on what my insurance is since that's been a pain in my ass ever since I turned 23. One of the ladies at the eye doctor yesterday when we discovered I'm not insured for eye care said, "Isn't being a college graduate fun?" and I was forced to answer, "No, so far, it blows." And then fill out the blank check my dad had given me for $339.40.

In happier news, Jonathan Groff is playing Dionysus in The Bacchae at the Public Theatre in August, and I am moving to New York in August. Fate? Possibly. Coincidence? Considerably more likely. But that doesn't mean I'm not going to try and swing it before school starts. Yes, I am a crazy fangirl, but a) you wouldn't have me any other way, and b) ...



... if loving him and what he can do on stage is wrong, then I don't want to be right.
dramaturgy: ([Twilight] E/B.)
It amazes me that no matter how many pictures I see of Robert Pattinson, he always manages to look like a freshly fucked homeless man.
dramaturgy: ([SA] Melchior + Wendla)
It is probably a bad thing that my first thought when I see this picture is "What can I photoshop onto that posterboard?":






Actually my first thought is that I want to pet his hair and find out if his feet are ticklish :x
dramaturgy: ([Gossip Girl] Chuck/Blair)
[23:44] my summers die: Sorry I turned John Barrowman back on
[23:44] likeabaroness: And he returned the favor?
[23:44] my summers die: Pretty much.

That has pretty much been my night. XD I am watching the How Do You Solve A Problem Like Maria from Canada. They brought in John Barrowman for acting workshop in Maria school and so there was a lot of touching and such. He was hugging a girl, talking about people being tactile creatures... and the girl he's hugging is making this face the entire time, like :D :D :D. And none of us blame her. Because damn that man is hot. And distracting. I cannot do anything else when he's on. *puts Torchwood on her to-watch list*
dramaturgy: (Bedroom Eyes)
Found a surprise in my bed whilst sleeping last night. My mother brought home the dentist office's copy of the most recent People that has Orlando Bloom on the cover and left it there. How nice. I'm just going to enjoy going around today and probably for a few days hence saying I've had Orlando Bloom in my bed and see what people say and wishing it were true.
dramaturgy: (Paris)
THEY JUST SHOWED A TROY TRAILER ON THE SUPER BOWL.

Orlando Bloom in all his breat-plated, leather skirted glory. I shiver and orgasm in anticipation.

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