Stubborn inefficient piggy

Whenever I have a number of projects going at once-- which for me is most of the time --I always want to work most on the one that is the lowest priority at the given time, and usually have zero motivation to get going on the one that I should be focusing on. When I first conceived of my idea for Just So, the funny short play based on that episode of Frasier, I was raring to go on it, but I should have been devoting my energy to the verse piece that was due sooner. Then later, when Just So's deadline was looming, I could not think of anything I wanted to work on less. Right now I should be thinking about homework, but all I want to do is work on things I can't hand in. I want to brainstorm for Imperium, the idea I had for a larp set in Ancient Rome, even though I have promised myself that I am putting larp writing on hold for the moment in favor of dramatic writing. I want to work on Sundan, the grand, Shakespeare-style tragedy I have conceived of where, in the course of trying to destroy a man who has stolen away the woman he loves, our hero destroys himself. Or maybe Mrs. Hawking, a Holmes and Watson type story, where a working class girl finds a calling through an unlikely partnership with a frustrated-genius high-class lady who she teaches to be a little more human. But neither of those projects satisfy the assignments I've been given, so they can't be used for school. Thus, of course, is my piglike nature, that I never want to do anything that I should be doing, and indeed, even if I used to want to do it, as soon as it becomes priority one I'd rather be doing anything else.

Please let's not talk this out

I know communication is of paramount important to human relationships. Especially in times of conflict. But Jesus Christ, sometimes I would rather gouge out my own eardrums than have to verbally hash things out.

Sometimes I feel like I'm the world's most stereotypical man. No, sometimes I DON'T want to have a long, drawn-out, detailed conversation about just what went wrong between us just now. Can we just skip to the apology and move on with our days? Okay, maybe having it THE FIRST TIME IT HAPPENS is useful, but after that, do you really need to make your point again, when it clearly didn't fix things the first time? Or do I have to sit through it as punishment for repeating my offense?

The most common instance of my getting into it with someone tends to be when someone does something that bothers me and I lose my temper and say something mean. Like, someone is annoying, so I tell them to quit being such a huge pain. Or someone behaves in a way I find absurd, frustrating, or unfair, and I express my contempt. Or someone is personally injurious to me, and I call them a jackass.

I know what I did. It isn't that I don't understand your feelings. The problem is that I TOTALLY DO UNDERSTAND YOUR FEELINGS and FAILED TO RESPECT THEM because I am weak and imperfect. I am bad for that, and deserve to take responsibility for that failure and must apologize for it. This in particular is a problem I have, being short-tempered and unkind sometimes. Can I please just say "I'm sorry I hurt your feelings and behaved badly" and you apologize for whatever it is you did? Can I please NOT have to express in a long detailed conversation that I fully understand the nature of my offense and of your feelings? Can you just trust me on this and accept that I GET IT and don't need to have the same conversation over and over, because I don't think there's anything in the world I hate more?

The other things is, even if we did make sure we were both totally on the same page, we're probably going to do this again at some point. People do not  change at the drop of a hat; you're probably going to do something that bothers me again, and I'm probably going to lose my temper and be mean again. I understand it's a problem. I'll work on it-- especially this, as I've been actively trying to be less nasty when I'm angry --but having the conversation is most likely not going to contribute to it coming about faster or better.

I know, I'm a bad person, a horrible, emotionally stunted person who has no shot at maintaining healthy relationships. I can live with that. Please no more talktalktalk.

Bedroom vanity, Mk2

I wasn't planning to post about this again twice in one day, but I'm just so pleased!

I hung the mirror on the wall with monkey hooks and a length of 18-gauge mirror wire. Monkey hooks are cool, they're meant to be hand-pressed into drywall and slide up behind so that a tiny little hooked tail sticks out of the wall for hanging supported by a long, upward-curving top. I placed the hooks just a smidge lower than I meant to, meaning the table has to go just a little bit in front of it, but it still looks very nice. Even, too! The wire allowed for fine adjustment.

What pleases me most of all is how the table came out. A while ago morethings5* very thoughtfully gave me a bag of various wood stains and sealants. This was just the nicest thing for me, as I have a deep love for the look of stained wood and have used them for a number of projects since, like the coffee table in my living room. For this one, I compared the samples on the labels of each color of stain to the wood of my bedroom set, but found none of them really matched. So I decided to try combining them by layers to see if two together might work. I first used a ruddy color called Sedona Red and allowed that to dry. Then I layered over it with a much darker shade of Walnut. I had to bring it back upstairs to compare it with the frame of the mirror, and look at the result! It's a damn near match! How about that? :-D

I am ridiculously pleased. All that remains now is to seal it with a nice protective polyurethane finish. There's a couple of those to choose from in my lovely gift from Jonathan. Then I will have a perfect bedroom vanity! I love house decorating stuff.

Bedroom vanity, mk1

I got my new little table!

It fits perfectly, the right width to use the space without crowding it and just deep enough to be useful without blocking the doorway into the office. Right now the mirror is just sitting on top of it and looks to be all right, but I'm a little nervous of it just perching up there unsecured. If the table got knocked, it could come crashing down. So I should probably attach it to the wall anyway. I think I will try to do that today. Wish me luck that I don't damage the wall.

Also, I mentioned I wanted to stain this table. It's totally unfinished so I think I'll try to make it match the wood of my bedroom furniture, which you can see here in the frame of the mirror. It's actually a nicer piece than I thought from the seller's photo, so if I take a little care it might actually come out quite nice.

Biweekly Theater Writing Challenge #8 - Early Sundan monologue in blank verse

SUNDAN:

I feel today I am a man anew,
Standing here as I’ve never stood before.
I’ve served Lynesse, the dread duchess Ilan,
In martial venture on her honor’s fields,
And in her council chambers lent my voice.
No more sought I than plain becomes a man,
To do my liege the best I had in me,
But for my service she has lov’d me well.
Through blood and labor I’ve so prov’d myself
That she’s pronounced this day to honor me
‘Fore all the court her most true and loyal man.
And in the thoughts of this new man I find
A stranger courage than aught before had grown.
There is a woman, to all senses a lady,
That all men do know as Juliana.
She is without compare, a girl so bright
That I have fell so far in love with her
The earth would tremble at its breadth and break.
For joy I’ve been my lady’s constant friend,
But the deep truth I never dared to tell,
A secret I have closely held through all
Long ages knowing she would not in kind.   
Strange, but I no more can recall the time.
It feels as if there’s never Sundan lived
Who did not Juliana love. My God!
How can men have called me bold when in this
I’ve gone on so long a coward?
I have a soldier’s years, and led brave men
To hazard life and limb in war,
And yet I fear no foe upon the field
As I dread the measure of those matchless eyes.
But with turns the world has chang’d, and so have I;
No more that humble, fearful boy I was,
But commended now, esteemed by men.
As journeys course, and fortunes veer thus far,
I sense this just begins the turns ahead,
That what I’ve been shall be requite in kind.
A clever man must see when chances come
And damned be if I seize not mine now.
Once Lynesse proclaim my worth today I vow
I’ll speak to Juliana of my love.
Though it break and bow me else to try
To stand commended in my angel’s eyes,
And win that angel’s love as dearest prize.

Conqueror of chores

Yesterday I was the Chore-Accomplishing Powerhouse. I've been very busy with more external responsibilities (work, school, directing Merely Players) that I haven't felt very much like spending my remaining energy on stuff around the house. But I finally made myself call the neurologist and get an appointment-- that I wasn't putting off, I just kept forgetting and never remembering until after office hours --and getting that out of the way lit a fire under me. I cleaned my bedroom, changed the bedsheets, put together my new office chair, repacked my fabric basket, vacuumed the carpet, cleared out all the stuff I'd been driving around in my car, stored the new banquet tables I bought down in the basement, unloaded and reloaded the dishwasher, took the air conditioner out of my window, and threw a roast in the oven for dinner. A lot of this stuff has needed doing for a while so, now I'm glad to have gotten it out of the way.

But I'm still not done. I started painting away the little spots of remaining orange paint on the trim in my bedroom, but never had a chance to finish. I need to keep taping up the blue and get that all covered up. I also need to get around to hanging my big mirror. I've been a little tentative because I don't want to damage it or the wall, but I think I know what I need to do. I have monkey hooks and I bought the stud finder app on my iPhone that valleyviolet* recommended, which might be enough, but I wonder if it wouldn't be helpful to get some eighteen-gauge wire to string it up with. Also, I think I'd like to make that corner of the room a bit more functional. As it is, both mirrors are in my bedroom, while the dresser I'd previously also been using as a vanity is in my office, making getting ready in the morning a bit awkward. Usually when I leave I have just tossed my hair brush and everything onto my bed, which is not as organized or neat as I'd like. I much prefer everything to end up in its proper place. So I've decided that once the mirror is hung I'm going to place a little table beneath it to make that spot into a real vanity. I've been checking out Craigslist and eBay to find something that might serve. The trouble is that spot is in the narrow space between the wall and the door to my office, so I can't put anything there that's so wide it will interfere with egress between the rooms. But I found a little thing that I think will work. Doesn't look like much now, it's a cheap, unfinished half-circle kind of table I'll be picking up on Saturday. But I kind of like that because I can stain it myself and choose the color. I bet I can make it look nice.

I don't have anyplace to be this weekend, so perhaps a run to the hardware store is in order, and I can spend the rest of the time seeing that this stuff actually gets accomplished.

Practicing on my own

Work for the last couple of days has been a string of HIGH STRESS CHALLENGE WILL I BE ABLE TO HANDLE IT alternating with oh thank God I managed to take care of that and then more OH NO ANOTHER HIGH STRESS CHALLENGE PLEASE DON'T LET ME FUCK THIS UP, and so on and so forth. Could be worse. Could be crashing and burning. I'm handling it, but it's got me very on edge.

In less stressful news, I have decided that I am going to use practicing what I learn in my ballet class as a workout. I have gotten so fed up with my old workouts that I think this will energize me to keep up with physical activity. I'm really enjoying ballet, though I find it very challenging and am definitely not very good. But I want to get better, so hopefully that will be motivation enough to practice, which will simultaneously help me improve and keep me exercising. Yesterday I went home after work, walked to the gym, practiced for about forty minutes, went into the weight room to do some abdominal exercises, and then walked home again. I felt very good afterward, and my muscles felt like they got a good workout without being extremely sore. I worked away from the ballet bar so as to practice my balance, and I paid very close attention to keeping my torso above my legs and to how I moved my arms. My ballet arms have been consistently quite ugly, which irks me, oddly shaped and too tense at the shoulder. I also find it difficult to coordinate their movements with what I'm doing with my legs. These are things I'll particularly have to practice as I work on my own.

I've got the class again tonight, so I may just see that I get in some walking today to keep things balanced. Carolyn went with me this past Tuesday. it's Bring a Friend week, so we both got to take the class for free. (Tonight's the same, if anyone is interested!) It was very fun having a friend along, and she really is wonderful company. She's been a dancer for many years, so she's far and away ahead of me, but I hope I didn't embarrass myself too badly. :-) I have a lot to work on!

I love Hipster Feminist

I have been really loving doing Hipster Feminist lately, my once-daily joke Twitter feed on the thoughts of Rhoda, a girl who finds the only thing more exhausting than the patriarchy is the mainstream. I'm enjoying the challenge of having to come up with an on-point joke for it every day, and even though not everything I've come up with has been comedy gold or trenchant commentary, a handful of them have turned out to be really fun and funny. I am getting interested in developing the character of Rhoda (given that name by morethings5*, along with some my favorites of her jokes). She needs a funny last name, and funny life details, and I might just do my hair up stupid and get a pair of black plastic glasses and skinny jeans and take a picture of myself as her. As it is, her character is kind of inconsistent, particularly in how much she flips between being a good feminist and a bad feminist, depending on what joke I want to do on a given day. But perhaps that in itself is funny and a comment on her nature; in case it's not obvious, she is not intended to be a bastion of self-awareness or true social consciousness. Having to stay within a hundred and forty characters does of course make it tough to really deeply explore her, but it's a good format for one-liners, and I like the challenge of working within the limitations.

I just got a whole bunch of new followers lately, too, bringing me up to an awe-inspiring twenty-six! ;-) This is special if only because these new people are people who don't know me and most likely aren't following me to throw me a sympathetic bone. One of those followers is, amazingly, Holly Pervocracy, who write an excellent feminism blog that I started reading a few months ago. She also writes a great deal about sex and kinks, which is fine but not really my cup of tea, but even so it's totally worth following if only for the feminist writing. I wonder how she found it! I also wonder if she noticed that a couple of my HF jokes were drawn from things I read on her blog. :-) At any rate, I'm flattered that she's interested, because she's pretty funny herself and definitely knows her shit when it comes to feminism. Gives me a little confidence that my jokes are sharply observed.

Only mainstream hegemonic assholes don't check it out. ;-)

Biweekly Theater Writing Challenge #7 - "Just So," inspired by the "Dinner Party" episode of Frasier

Here is my next short play draft for my latest assignment for school. It was inspired by a very theatrically constructed episode of Frasier called "Dinner Party," which I always thought would make a good play. In my effort to keep it "inspired by" as opposed to "shamelessly ripping off of" that episode, I did not rewatch it while writing and tried to just capture the spirit of it. I'm not sure I succeeded. As it is, the piece is rough and needs polish. It's not very funny yet; I'll need to touch up all the jokes. But I think it has good bones and can be whipped into shape with some work. As it is, here is the early, awkward first draft.

JUST SO

(Two women, fussily dressed, drink tea in an elegant, old-fashioned sitting room. The remains of lunch lay on a sideboard. There are two telephones, one on either side of the stage, on end tables. BELINDA abruptly strikes a pose as if inspired.)

BELINDA: Estella, my dear?

ESTELLA: Yes, Belinda, my friend?

BELINDA: I am struck with an idea.

ESTELLA: Tell me.

BELINDA: I am inspired with the notion that you and I must put on a play.

ESTELLA: A play, you say.

BELINDA: I do. King Lear, I believe, is due for a sensitive treatment as only our exquisite discernment and taste can provide.

ESTELLA: Wonderful! And I know just what our piece will look like. Nothing will convey oppression and isolation like the stodgy gloom of nineteenth century Europe!

BELINDA: I beg your pardon? You know very well I’ve always wanted to do King Lear in the style of Noh theater!

ESTELLA: I’m sure you’ll get your wish, and it will be no theater.

(BELINDA pulls the small table between them and begins clearing off the remains of lunch. ESTELLA fetches paper and pens.)

BELINDA: Of course, of course, you’re so very clever. I’ll teach you better later. But now to my favorite part of the directing process—

(She gestures broadly with the wine bottle from lunch.)

ESTELLA: Drinking?

BELINDA: No, silly! Casting! There will come plenty of time for drinking when we actually have actors to deal with. Of course we’ll only want to give our parts to the most talented—

ESTELLA: Wait, Belinda, no— we can’t simply hand out the roles with no formal tryout procedure!

BELINDA: Oh, my, you’re right. They’ll say we played favorites!

ESTELLA: They’ll doubt out artistic integrity!

BELINDA: We simply owe it to our reputations to cast this show only after a fair and impartial audition process!

ESTELLA: Just so!

(The two sit, and look at each other uncomfortably a moment. Then they can’t take it anymore and spring back up.)

BELINDA: But if we were to ask them to audition…

ESTELLA: Just to extend the opportunity…

BELINDA: While sticking to a stern standard of directorial objectivity…

ESTELLA: Well, of course that would be all right!

BELINDA: Wonderful! Ah, Estella, what would I do without the guidance of your unfailing moral compass?

ESTELLA: Someone must mind these things, my friend.

BELINDA: I’m sure you can guess who is first on my list. The great…

ESTELLA: The talented…

BELINDA: The one and only…

BOTH: Maurice St. Lefou!

BELINDA: Ah, of course he is the right man!

ESTELLA: Wouldn’t he look handsome beneath the warm glow of a gas street lamp?

BELINDA: We are doing it Kabuki-style, Estella. Of course, you do bring up a good point about setting the proper ambience.

ESTELLA: Of course we’ll have to find the right set designer.

BELINDA: I will not have another catastrophe like they had for Merritt Pickford’s production of Antigone.

ESTELLA: Oh, where their designer heard Greece and gave them a set for a sock hop?

BELINDA: Just so! We must find someone reliable! What was his name again?

ESTELLA: Carver Winthrop, ha! I would not go to him if I were desperate.

BELINDA: But one thing at a time. Casting first!

ESTELLA: Indeed. We’ll need more than just Maurice to fill out this show.

BELINDA: Much as I enjoyed his one-man production of Lysistrata, I don’t think we should go in that direction.

ESTELLA: Well, I know I’d love to encourage that good-looking Roderick Tumbler to come out for the show.

BELINDA: My God, Belinda, the man is tougher to understand than a translated Japanese laundry soap ad! My first thought was that bright young up-and-coming Eleanor Hawking.

ESTELLA: The one with the voice like the dying parakeet? You’d rather listen to her?

BELINDA: I disagree!

ESTELLA: I disagree with your disagreement!

BELINDA: Well, who gets final word?

ESTELLA: Let’s make a deal. Each of us will get three vetoes that neither one may bar!

BELINDA: Agreed. So… if not Miss Hawking, what about the clever and talented Roland Prescott? His Touchstone touched us all.

ESTELLA: Oh, heavens, no.

BELINDA: Why ever not?

ESTELLA: No, no, you may not dissect the reasoning behind the veto, you must simply abide by it!

BELINDA: Fine then. How about—

ESTELLA: Mina Hornsby?

BELINDA: The harpy with just the one eyebrow? Veto!

ESTELLA: The charming Chandler Van Pelt?

BELINDA: The troll with just the one nostril? Sweet Jesus, veto! Why, I’d take anyone over those talentless hacks— wait one minute! You’re throwing all those bozos at me so your little pets will look better by comparison! I’m on to your little game!

ESTELLA: Oh, blast you. Very well, tell you what, if you let me have Tumbler then I’ll let you keep Hawking.

BELINDA: Mumbling Tumbler!?

ESTELLA: Squawking Hawking!

BELINDA: You would dicker over warm bodies for our show like sheep at market?

ESTELLA: I’ll throw in that ghoulish Roland Prescott!

BELINDA: Deal! Oh, I can’t wait any longer, I simply must tell Maurice!

ESTELLA: Go forth and Godspeed!

(BELINDA goes to one phone and calls.)

BELINDA: Hello? The most vibrant and talented actor onstage, please. Oh, of course, darling! It’s Belinda. How would you like to come out and audition for a little piece that Estella and I are planning on putting on? I’m sure there’s a lead it in for you! Yes? Yes? Oh, wonderful! Oh, yes, of course. I couldn't be more pleased. No, of course you can call me back later, we'll talk about the details then! Ciao!

(She hangs up.)

BELINDA: That was Maurice.

ESTELLA: And?

BELINDA: He says he’d be delighted to take the role—

ESTELLA: Triumph!

BELINDA: —provided we find a place for his new paramour as well.

ESTELLA: For goodness sake! That mewling china doll girl Glinda with the voice that can shatter glass?

BELINDA: Oh, she's not that bad! She managed to win that role singing in Candide!

ESTELLA: Oh, yes, the audience was candide as well. There's nothing more candide than a barrage of thrown tomatoes! They're still scrubbing the stains off that proscenium.

BELINDA: Oh, don't worry, we'll just paint her up like a Japanese noblewoman and tell her it's very in character to fade into the background!

ESTELLA: That won't work for the European nineteenth century!

BELINDA: I told you that’s not what we agreed! At any rate, we have Maurice, he'll make up for the rest.

ESTELLA: That he will. But you’ve got me all worked up about designers now. Whoever shall we get?

BELINDA: Well, Wharton Spill would be my first choice. He once built Charlotte Woolley an elaborate castle of Elsinore entirely out of fondant and sugar cubes.

ESTELLA: Impressive! I’ll give him a call.

BELINDA: But by this time of year anybody’s who’s anybody is usually booked up. Whatever shall we do if we can’t get him?

ESTELLA: Carver Winthrop might be available.

BELINDA: I thought we wouldn’t go to him unless we were desperate.

ESTELLA: We’re not desperate, we’re pragmatic.

BELINDA: All right, then. Did he beat the code violations?

ESTELLA: Well, he got his license back somehow. And they’ve finally stopped cracking all those jokes about the time Mimsy Washburn fell through the floor.

BELINDA: Oh, you can’t put all the blame on Carver. Have you seen Mimsy? Even Wharton’s floorboards never stood a chance.

ESTELLA: Hmm.

(As ESTELLA calls, the second phone rings.)

BELINDA: That’s Maurice!

(She runs to answer the ringing phone.)

ESTELLA: I’ve got Wharton!

BOTH: (Into phones) Hello? Hello, darling!

ESTELLA: Might you have room for one more show?

BELINDA: Oh, it promises to be absolutely genius, you’re going to love it.

ESTELLA: You’re the only man who can properly capture the essence of the European nineteenth century!

BELINDA: Yes, we shall be doing it in the time-honored tradition of Japanese Noh!

ESTELLA: (To BELINDA) Wait, what are you telling Maurice?

BELINDA: (To ESTELLA, at the same time) Wait, what are you telling Wharton?

(There is a brief pause, then they talk into their phones again.)

ESTELLA: No, no, no, darling, no one said Maurice!

BELINDA: No, darling, nobody's talking about Wharton!

ESTELLA: It was... Patrice! An elderly aunt Patrice who wanted to invest in the show!

BELINDA: You heard Morton! You know that lovely older gentleman Morton who manages the house?

ESTELLA: No, no, no, don’t get upset!

BELINDA: (At the same time) No need to get so worked up!

BOTH: (To each other) Not such a darling all of a sudden! (Then into their phones) What? Not you, darling, him, darling!

(They talk hysterically over each other into their respective phones, until at they same time they are abruptly cut off by dial tones. Sadly they hang up their receivers and sit on the couch side by side.)

ESTELLA: Apparently they can’t stand each other.

BELINDA: Yes, I gathered that.

ESTELLA: They quarreled beyond reconcile when Maurice compared Wharton's scenic painting to the pancake on an aging whore.

BELINDA: And no actor much likes Wharton's view on what he calls "those roving bleating set pieces."

ESTELLA: And to top it all off, Wharton hates the nineteenth century.

BELINDA: Maurice hates Noh theater.

ESTELLA: Almost as much as they hate each other. At least we don’t have to find a part for that Glinda girl.

BELINDA: But now we’ve got no vision, no designer, and no star. What are we to do?

(Pause.)

ESTELLA: I hear Mimsy Washburn’s legs have healed.

BELINDA: She could do it as a breech role. Might as well make use of that wretched little beard.

(Pause.)

BELINDA: Estella, I’m struck with an idea.

ESTELLA: Tell me.

BELINDA: Let’s not direct a play.

ESTELLA: Not direct, you say.

BELINDA: I do. We will leave such things to the strutting, crowing cocks-o’-the-walk. Instead we will confine our talents to making commentary and separating the wheat from the chaff!

ESTELLA: It takes a special intellect to critique. This is the contribution we should share with the world! It would be a crime if we did not!

BELINDA: Just so!

ESTELLA: Us, directing a play-- ha!

BELINDA: Indeed! Honestly, Estella, where do you get these crazy ideas?

THE END

Work whiny



*Sigh* Just got a bunch of new responsibilities given to me at work, which is nice and all, but are accompanied by other changes that are kind of inconvenient. Spent a lot of today in the position of either wait for instructions and come off as not proactive or helpful enough, or try to use my own best judgment and risk handling it wrong. Hmmm, either be a useless cow, or screw up? Yay, my favorite. The really annoying thing is that my work hours just got moved up from 9AM-2PM to 8AM-1PM. Not super-pleased about that, but it's not that big a deal. I'm just a baby who doesn't want to wake up an hour earlier. At least my work period will end earlier without losing any hours. I do like finishing early rather than late. Tomorrow will be the first day of it, so I'd bet remember to reset my morning alarm.