dramaturgy: ([Misc] Rocking out.)
So, I officially quit life on Sunday after my grandmother sent me a forward that started with a rape joke. (If you rape a prostitute, is it rape or shoplifting? GET IT? SINCE PROSTITUTES ARE PAID FOR SEX WHEN YOU TAKE IT WITHOUT PAYING, IT'S SHOPLIFTING. HUR HUR.) I replied all and said, "It's rape. Also it's not funny. I thought a former cop would know better." (It was forwarded to her by an online friend who is a former cop.) I haven't heard from her since then so my guess is that she's pulling the "Well, I'm old, and I get to say what I want because I was brought up ~in a different time." Yeah, that old chestnut. GRANDMA. YOU WERE BORN IN 1935, BUT THE ACTUAL FOR REALS MIDDLE AGES. Whatever. She also says "coloreds" and "the gays" and I know I should feel bad because she doesn't get around so well and is probably lonely, puttering around her house all day, but I really don't think that's an excuse. And it makes me mad.

So I quit life around 9:45 AM, climbed into the shower and cried until I ran out of hot water, and then climbed back into bed and started rewatching Ugly Betty. But it really wasn't just that. It was just the straw that broke the camel's back.

This whole business with Gabrielle Giffords and the assassination attempt has just left me heartsick and upset. (I will admit to having The Ballad of Czolgoz and the rest of Assassins running through my head for most of the day on Saturday; I am not a perfect person.) I watched the guy's YouTube channel and it's way fucking creepier than any horror movie I've ever seen. The fact that one of the people dead is a nine year old girl who had just been elected to her student council and taken because she was interested in public service and things of that nature AND had been born on 9/11 (ACTUAL 9/11, not a 9/11 since then, HER MOTHER WAS IN THE HOSPITAL GIVING BIRTH ON 9/11/2001) is just the frosting on a very depressing cake.

Then I find out that Sarah Palin had a campaign ad that was basically a hit list and a map with crosshairs on the congressional districts of those on the list and Gabrielle Giffords was on that list. I was disgusted but unfortunately not shocked. And I know that Sarah Palin didn't put the gun in the guy's hand and say "Go for it!" but if I had made that list and that map, we would not be having this conversation right now because the FBI would have broken a land speed record getting to my house AND I WOULD NOW BE IN FBI CUSTODY. You know what, I damn well don't care about Sarah Palin. My hatred peaked sometime last year and right now I'm just sick of her. I think she's stupid and irrelevant at best and dangerous at worst. When you tell your followers to reload, not retreat and show them a hitlist of politicians you don't like, well... even if the Loughner guy didn't care about her, she needs to be fucking called out to explain herself for that ad.

And it's not just her. Everyone who adds to the rhetoric of hate in this country needs to STOP IT and first of all, use their words, and second of all, USE WORDS THAT DON'T INCITE VIOLENCE AGAINST OTHER PEOPLE. I'll be first to admit I'm guilty of it, and it's usually in hyperbole -- how many times this semester did I say I was going to fucking kill my kids? I would never actually. But if all 35 of them had suddenly wound up DEAD I would have been the link between them all and I would have looked pretty damn guilty. At the risk of sounding stupid... with great power comes great responsibility. And your words mean something.

Also, whoever it is that tweets as President Bartlet just made me angry by refusing to acknowledge Sarah Palin should be held responsible. (Toby Ziegler, however, did not disappoint me. Toby has always held a place in my heart, the old curmudgeon. ♥) Seriously, stop turning my fictional hero into an apologist. (I know he's not REAL or anything, so this is kind of stupid, but seriously. [livejournal.com profile] bad_rpers_suck, that's all I'm saying.

Also in the Disappointing Me Thoroughly camp is Jonathan Mandell, aka NewYorkTheater. He writes about theatre for an independent online news source, and occasionally has quoted me in his articles for some of the off the cuff things I say about theatre. I generally like and agree with things that he has to say and quite frankly it's nice to be able to tweet theatre at someone who will tweet you back (although I have had certain people Tweet me back before -- not the point). BUT.

Recently, Bono saw Spider-Man for the first time. Awesome, right? Well. Jenn Damiano was apparently quoted as saying that he had enjoyed himself watching the show. (I am paraphrasing here, but that is pretty much what was said.) Things went apeshit. I was like, "Aw, that's great!" and Mandell tweeted, "He shouldn't be enjoying the show, he should be working on it so WE can enjoy it." (Again, I'm paraphrasing, but that is very close to the actual wording.)

Uh, first of all:
1. That is the most entitled, audience-centric thing I have heard in a long time, and
2. So artists aren't allowed to take pleasure in what they produce?
3. When I saw it, the music wasn't what I thought needed working on.

I tweeted as much to him (well, the second point, I couldn't find a nice way to phrase the first one and the third one is just a can of worms) and he replied (see, so at least he replied) that, "it implies he's a spectator and not an active member of the process." Um. Well, now I think people are just looking for something to bitch about for Spider-Man since nobody else has been injured and reviews aren't officially being made until the show opens next month. Way to take something an actress said and blow it out of proportion.

Anyway. Better news! I hear they're working on a new finale, and T.V Carpio became Arachne. I feel honored to have seen it as early as I did (the fourth preview) and can't wait to go back. Also, Michael Mayer and Billie Joe Armstrong are talking about making American Idiot into a movie (which could be awesome or be horrible) and want to work on an original project together. I hope he remembers my resume. :x
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: ([AI] St. Jimmy.)
[Error: unknown template qotd]

I don't actually have a smart answer for this one. I just wanted the stupidity to spread.
dramaturgy: ([Misc] N2N)




dramaturgy: ([Celebs] Ronson.)
My mother just sat here hitting her knee until she found the reflex spot and she said, "There it is!"

I looked at her and said, "What the hell are you doing?"

"Looking for the reflex spot!"


"I don't know."

And then I died laughing and mocked her with, "Hello? Is anyone in there?" I just wish my dad were in here instead of outside weedwhacking.
dramaturgy: ([DW/T] Peek!)
So I just found out that I am teaching a Theatre 101 class next year. I was kind of expecting that, it's true, but:

1. I found out by searching for my name as instructor name in the online thing. Not by a department member saying "X, Y, and Z will be instructing our 101 classes." Nothing. Nada. I have no e-mail, no personal contact, no phone call, no nothing. Call me old fashioned but it seems like I should have been the first to know.
2. What the fuck do you teach in 101 anyway? At Coe, 101 was for students who weren't theatre majors but wanted a class to fulfill their Fine Arts credit who wanted something less strenuous than Acting I.
3. Directing I, which I have to take to graduate the program, is at the SAME FUCKING TIME as the class that I am teaching. I know, I know, Liz it's not all about you, but I don't know. It's just another pain in my ass.
4. I am going to be the worst fucking teacher in the world.

Just another reason this place is pissing me off.


My presentation's done, and I'm going to do NOTHING tonight, except write my Mentalist recap if there's a new ep tonight. I am going to party with Jose because it is Supernatural's 100th episode tonight. Can I afford to? No. Not really, but if I don't want to lose my fucking mind I don't really think I have a choice.
dramaturgy: ([SPN] Drank a liquor store.)
There is nothing quite so unhappy as feeling superfluous and unheeded. This started last night when I got a reply to an e-mail I sent Steve on Thursday night -- or maybe Friday. Anyway, to set the stage, our New Play Development Workshop class is holding a ten minute play contest since apparently that seemed like a good idea. Well we're down to like the last ten or so plays we want to consider and so we want to bring in actors to do a cold reading, just so we can hear how it sounds. So this is the e-mail I sent him:

I have an actor for class! His name is Nicholas T******, he's in Joe Jeffrey's Theatre in New York class with Jackie and me. His e-mail is nicksemail@ic.sunysb.edu if you need/want to give him more info -- I told him Monday 12-3 but I'm not sure if you have any further instructions or not.

Have a good weekend,

And this is the reply I got last night:


Thanks. If you have Nicholas T******'s contact info, and he interested, ask him to come to class on Monday.
I hope we get a few more.

WHAT. I just. When you get a response like that, you feel like you make as well be dancing around naked, beating a teakettle with a wooden spoon.
dramaturgy: ([SPN] One of those days.)
I feel like poor Cas looks in this icon.

I fell off a ladder in the theatre today. Luckily, it was just when I was coming down and I missed the bottom rung (or slipped, it happened too fast for me to really remember clearly). I went down on my ass and then started to fall backwards into the scaffold that was behind me. Cracked my head. It wasn't bleeding, and I didn't go unconscious at any time. I could feel everything and move fingers and toes, all that. They kept me immobile, called paramedics, and at the hospital they gave me a CAT scan. Everything looked clear, and I could walk in a straight line, so they released me. I'm sore, right now it's no worse than if I'd exercised real hard or slept at a weird angle, but it'll probably be bad tomorrow. I have Ibuprofen, so barring unforeseen circumstances, this is just another stupid accident and another story to tell about silly Liz. More than anything, I was stunned and then embarrassed.

This week sucked. I'm going to work on picspam now.

This today and Wednesday the SATD shot a staple through her thumb. I think someone said the name of the Scottish Play.
dramaturgy: ([BS] Dance.)
The REAL, LIVE version of XKCD's "boom de yadda" comic, which I have watched about five times and fall more and more in love with each time.

dramaturgy: ([SPN] Chuck/Becky!)
To Do )

Val and I went to see New Moon because her roommates bought tickets but then they didn't want to go. It was DEFINITELY worth it. I actually liked it better than the first one, I thought it was a lot better. I credit this to the fact that they had a bigger budget and they didn't put that nasty blue filter on everything. MICHAEL SHEEN was everything I could have wanted in an Aro and more. I'll stop myself there, but. Wow. VOLTERRA WAS VOLTERRA! THE SNOZZBERRIES TASTE LIKE SNOZZBERRIES! And the ending was perfect. XD

Perhaps even better was the impromptu theatre that was created when the fire alarm went off and we had to evacuate the theatre. First, some people refused to leave the theatre, and then the epic whining began while we were waiting outside for the firetrucks to do their thing. We eventually got to go back in and. Well:
[02:39] [livejournal.com profile] dramaturgy: Oh god. And then we were being let back in the theatre, so we were waiting for the movie to get started again.
[02:39] [livejournal.com profile] dramaturgy: When this group of tweens in the middle of the theatre start "ED-WARD *clap clap* ED-WARD *clap clap*"
[02:39] [livejournal.com profile] dramaturgy: And pretty soon we get, "JA-COB *clap clap* JA-COB *clap clap"
[02:40] [livejournal.com profile] thinkatory: *dead*
[02:40] [livejournal.com profile] dramaturgy: I WISH I WAS MAKING THIS UP, KITTY.
[02:40] [livejournal.com profile] thinkatory: SO DO I
[02:40] [livejournal.com profile] thinkatory: OH MY GOD YOU CANNOT MAKE THIS SHIT UP
[02:40] [livejournal.com profile] thinkatory: That is. XD
[02:41] [livejournal.com profile] dramaturgy: I was like DEAR GOD IT'S GOING TO BE A BLOODBATH.

Oh and there was more ~drama tonight. Honestly I think we're all at the end of the semester and we all need a nap and a juicebox but none of us are getting either so we're just cranky.
dramaturgy: ([SPN] Here to save you?)
So I'm chillaxing with my last xanax on the off campus housing website, and the contact name for one of the rooms to rent is Lucy Lu.

Seriously. I couldn't make this up if I wanted to right now.
dramaturgy: ([Glee] Don't Stop Believing.)
I haven't written in here (aside from the fic) since after Kitty left, so I probably should.

I'm not doing much these days, just working and waiting for July 5th to roll around so I can run back up to Milwaukee for the final night of Summerfest and ELVIS COSTELLO. But Liz, you never said you were an Elvis Costello fan. Well truth be told I probably wouldn't be considered a fan by most standards, but I know enough to know that he doesn't belong on the 'classic rock' stage and like I'm going to miss a chance to see a living legend on stage. That and I have to miss FLOGGING MOLLY because I have to work on the afternoon of the fourth. WHY IS THE MALL OPEN ON JULY THE FRIGGING FOURTH ANYWAY? I don't know.

I applied for a forbearance on my Stafford Loan because I figured the worse they could do is tell me no, and now I can actually afford to buy stuff that I'm going to need for school in the fall and put a little bit more away in the bank.

Like paying for my speeding ticket. Yes, I was driving home last Friday from taking Kitty back to Milwaukee when the Belmont PD reached out to embrace me. I cried, but only when I heard a sucking sound that was all of my money leaving my account. I deserved the ticket though, so at least this time I was able to wait until we were finished until I started crying. And he was nice at least. But the real delicious irony is that "All That Jazz" was playing on my iPod when I got pulled over. Yep. This would be funny if it weren't me, and right now it's just kind of sad.

I've been using my lethargic mood over the last few days to catch up on TV. First I watched Tudors, then the Gossip Girl finale, and the Glee pilot (OH MY JESUS PLEASE LET THIS SHOW CATCH ON), and I also caught up on House. I'd missed like ten episodes of that, which was more than I thought I had. And now I'm watching Dollhouse. I think Fringe is next, because. Mad scientists, hello.

OH YES and while Kitty was here we watched seasons one, two, and most of three of Supernatural with my sister. It was great because we got to see her flaily reactions as she watched things for the first time, and we got to look back and seriously it's kind of creepy how much of those seasons is really set up for APOCALYPSE TIEM NAO. Or, if not set up, it just kind of fits in perfectly with everything. Also we became doomed, but that is another story for another time.
dramaturgy: ([FF/S] Mal/Inara)

An update on the karaoke forays of Robert Pattinson, Hugh Jackman, Baz Luhrmann, and apparently Kristen Stewart was there too. Shit this is too great for words.
dramaturgy: ([GA] SERIOUSLY)
So. Today I was woken up by the DeWitt police knocking on my door. My first thought was "When did Gretchen get home last night?" But it turns out Ron is in violation of two city ordinances and needs to be moved. I told him I would tell my dad, which I will, although he looked skeptical. Well, sorry officer. I would go out and move it myself, except IT DOESN'T START.
dramaturgy: ([Misc] I am never going to work again)
So at Lane Bryant, our 'Right Fit' pants are sized somewhat differently. There are three colors, red, blue, and yellow to denote different cuts based on body type. Red is average, blue cinches in at the waist for women who have larger hips than they do waist, and yellow (me!) is for people who are smaller in the butt and thighs and have sagging issues with regular jeans. And they go by numbers, 1-8, corresponding with 1 as a 14, 2 as a 16, 3 as an 18, etc. I am ALWAYS happy to tell people about the sizing and help them find the right style for them, because I love my Right Fit jeans and pants. BUT me giving you the schpiel, help, and smiles is not going to do you any good if you don't LISTEN TO ME. I know I've only worked here about six weeks, but I do know some things!

Also, to the one lady I had today, why did you ask me to explain, and then answer your cell phone in the middle of my speech, and then proceed to indicate for me to keep going (which I awkwardly did) and hold a conversation with the person on the other side? Seriously.
dramaturgy: ([DW/T] *salute!*)
Yay jaunty Captain Jack icon.

I was supposed to go in to work at three, but Frank called me at 1 asking if I could come in to cover for him until RJ got there because he was le sick or something. I didn't really listen. So I went in for about forty-five minutes until RJ got there and he said I could come back at four, so go back at four I shall.

I replaced University of Iowa with Brooklyn College CUNY, because they also have a dramaturgy program AND a theatre history/criticism program. :x I sent an e-mail to admissions asking what their policy on dual application was because I can't deciiiiiiiide mommy, I wanna do booooooooooooooth.

I was having my Waking Nightmares again. It's not a technical term, but a Waking Nightmare is those uncontrollable thoughts and worries I have about money, getting into a school, money, my brother not moving his ass to get into a real school when he's finishing his AA in the spring, money, [livejournal.com profile] thinkatory finishing her thesis, [livejournal.com profile] roseanna and her busy, busy Beeness, money, weird dreams I have, [livejournal.com profile] kaesa being eaten by science, and money when I am trying to sleep. My mind races and I can't sleep and I end up tossing and turning and thinking about it. And sometimes I think I should get up and read or do something until I'm ready to pass out, except it's already three in the morning and it'll take at least half an hour for my mind to slow down... I'm supposed to go back to the doctor in a couple of weeks or something, this is probably something I should mention. Except it doesn't really do any good to put me on an anti-depressant and anti-anxiety medication, does it? ... It just seems counter productive. Maybe less fluoxetine will just do the trick.

Like last night, I was going to turn the light back on and read, but I'd just finished my book. The Handmaid's Tale, if you're curious. My brother read it for a class a couple of years ago, shoved it at my mom, and she shoved it at me. I think I'm going to read The Host next.

I have these really weird dreams. Like the other night I was eating bagels in the kitchen and for some reason the Tyrells were there. Like, not even [livejournal.com profile] westerosorting Tyrells who at least have the virtue of being real people. No. Like Margaery and Loras Tyrell were in my kitchen, eating bagels with me. I also have a dream about this restaurant that is somewhere out in the middle of nowhere north of DeWitt, and it has not only the best chocolate milkshakes I've ever had, but their chicken is delicious and so are their french fries. I was actually convinced that this restaurant was real, but when nobody in my family knew what the hell I was talking about, I realized I'd dreamed it all.

Also, ABC cancelled Dirty Sexy Money. Which, considering how it was going, might be a good thing.
dramaturgy: ([Disney] GFD!)

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] 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?


dramaturgy: (Default)

May 2017



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