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Sep. 28th, 2008 02:17 amArrrrrrrrgh;salkdjf
I went back to Coe tonight to see the play and it was marvelous. We have talented actors at Coe and this was an especially momentous occasion, as it was the first time we did plays by black playwrights. Florence and The Dutchman were both staged as a joint venture called A Dream Deferred, A Race Derailed. A couple of years ago, we read Topdog, Underdog in our theatre history class, and the question came up: why do we not do this play? It's an excellent play, it's probably one of my favorites that I had to read for theatre history, and I read a lot of plays. But it was said that we couldn't do these sorts of plays (where African-American/ethnic casting is needed for the play to make sense), i.e., put them on the schedule if no one was going to show up and audition. There's a certain amount of logic to this; we (and when I say "we" I mean the department) needed to decide whether or not if we built it, they would come.
Well, we built it. And they came.
Jackie, I'll give you more details later if you want them I promise, I am just REALLY tired right now. And if you all read on you will find out why.
The short story: I dropped my car key down the elevator shaft in Murray.
The long story: After the play was over I bid my sister good night some of my friends (Lizabe [![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
techie34], Ashley, Rae, and Chelsea) were getting ready to go to the Homecoming dance, and I was catching up with them some while they did so. I was going to go to the truck (I was driving my dad's Big Truck) and they were going to go to the dance, so we were heading out together. I had the key out and I guess I didn't have a good hold on it or something and it fell out of my hand and RIGHT in the space between the elevator car and the floor. There was much swearing and gnashing of teeth and a little crying (you know how I get). We talked to the RA on duty who did his best to help us (even taping a hook to a broom handle to try and stick in the shaft, bless him) and well. They can't get into the shaft until they can get maintenance in there which would have been tomorrow at the very, very earliest but more likely Monday. And, the cynic in me says, most likely even later than that, because this is Coe College. (It's like Sparta, except it sucks.) So Lizabe, GOD BLESS HER, I LOVE LIZABE, lent me her car so I could drive home. I'll go back tomorrow, return the car, and take the truck back. I parked the truck in a zone that had no parking between 11 PM and 8 AM or something, right there on 1st Ave, but of course I didn't figure on leaving it there over night. I figure I'll have a parking ticket (FUCK) but I am petrified that it's going to be towed and impounded, because I don't owe enough people money already.
I just. Why do these things always happen to me?
I went back to Coe tonight to see the play and it was marvelous. We have talented actors at Coe and this was an especially momentous occasion, as it was the first time we did plays by black playwrights. Florence and The Dutchman were both staged as a joint venture called A Dream Deferred, A Race Derailed. A couple of years ago, we read Topdog, Underdog in our theatre history class, and the question came up: why do we not do this play? It's an excellent play, it's probably one of my favorites that I had to read for theatre history, and I read a lot of plays. But it was said that we couldn't do these sorts of plays (where African-American/ethnic casting is needed for the play to make sense), i.e., put them on the schedule if no one was going to show up and audition. There's a certain amount of logic to this; we (and when I say "we" I mean the department) needed to decide whether or not if we built it, they would come.
Well, we built it. And they came.
Jackie, I'll give you more details later if you want them I promise, I am just REALLY tired right now. And if you all read on you will find out why.
The short story: I dropped my car key down the elevator shaft in Murray.
The long story: After the play was over I bid my sister good night some of my friends (Lizabe [
techie34], Ashley, Rae, and Chelsea) were getting ready to go to the Homecoming dance, and I was catching up with them some while they did so. I was going to go to the truck (I was driving my dad's Big Truck) and they were going to go to the dance, so we were heading out together. I had the key out and I guess I didn't have a good hold on it or something and it fell out of my hand and RIGHT in the space between the elevator car and the floor. There was much swearing and gnashing of teeth and a little crying (you know how I get). We talked to the RA on duty who did his best to help us (even taping a hook to a broom handle to try and stick in the shaft, bless him) and well. They can't get into the shaft until they can get maintenance in there which would have been tomorrow at the very, very earliest but more likely Monday. And, the cynic in me says, most likely even later than that, because this is Coe College. (It's like Sparta, except it sucks.) So Lizabe, GOD BLESS HER, I LOVE LIZABE, lent me her car so I could drive home. I'll go back tomorrow, return the car, and take the truck back. I parked the truck in a zone that had no parking between 11 PM and 8 AM or something, right there on 1st Ave, but of course I didn't figure on leaving it there over night. I figure I'll have a parking ticket (FUCK) but I am petrified that it's going to be towed and impounded, because I don't owe enough people money already. I just. Why do these things always happen to me?
