Dear Wikipedia.org,
I was so convinced that I was the first person ever to really pursue the connections between Samuel Beckett's play Endgame and Noah's Flood; you told me I was mistaken. It was a sloppy beginning to a lackluster day in which I was deprived of any release of my various frustrations.
We're taking a break.
Love,
Claire
Dear Football Player,
Friday is R&B Night in the computer lab. You are two days too early.
We're taking a break.
Love,
Claire
Dear Blue Styrofoam,
Hi, I'm Claire; I'm supposed to be carving 150 SQUARE feet of you into props--not 150 REGULAR feet as I'd so desperately hoped. Whoknew?
We are back on.
Love,
Claire
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
And then I don't feel so bad?
It's days like this that I'm ultimately thankful that I do not have the power to incinerate with a glance.
Oh, I would if I could. The entire theatre would be gone, as well as several students; my chemistry textbook would certainly not survive the heat, and the world might also go down in flames.
Crap ball change. I left my backpack in the cafeteria. I hope some thugly lowlife hasn't made off with it. Oh well. Have fun with my chemistry textbook, thugly lowlife, but the bookstore won't give you beans for it.
So then I might regret burning the earth. Well, I'd mostly regret it.
So I had a bad day. That's what that comes down to. I engaged in petty putainery. I did not stifle my urge to correct stupid people, even though I knew it would be tactless and make them feel more stupid. Rather, I embraced the urge. I went with it. I was a horrible person.
I had a mini-breakdown; I found out later that one of my classmates had a similar one. I wish we'd had ours together. It might have saved time.
When the dog bites, when the bee stings, Rodgers and Hammerstein and Julie Andrews suggest thinking of a few of my favorite things. So here goes.
The Swiss Alps.
West Side Story.
Wodehouse.
Breakfast of Champions--both Wheaties and the Kurt Vonnegut book.
Languages.
Rasmus.
Making fun of mullets.
Making fun of millet.
Making fun of mittens.
Making fun of non-human-hair weave.
DICK VAN DYKE.
Jane Austen.
Kiwi.
Yes. Have no fear--I would spare the earth for kiwi, the Alps and Jeeves and Wooster.
Oh, I would if I could. The entire theatre would be gone, as well as several students; my chemistry textbook would certainly not survive the heat, and the world might also go down in flames.
Crap ball change. I left my backpack in the cafeteria. I hope some thugly lowlife hasn't made off with it. Oh well. Have fun with my chemistry textbook, thugly lowlife, but the bookstore won't give you beans for it.
So then I might regret burning the earth. Well, I'd mostly regret it.
So I had a bad day. That's what that comes down to. I engaged in petty putainery. I did not stifle my urge to correct stupid people, even though I knew it would be tactless and make them feel more stupid. Rather, I embraced the urge. I went with it. I was a horrible person.
I had a mini-breakdown; I found out later that one of my classmates had a similar one. I wish we'd had ours together. It might have saved time.
When the dog bites, when the bee stings, Rodgers and Hammerstein and Julie Andrews suggest thinking of a few of my favorite things. So here goes.
The Swiss Alps.
West Side Story.
Wodehouse.
Breakfast of Champions--both Wheaties and the Kurt Vonnegut book.
Languages.
Rasmus.
Making fun of mullets.
Making fun of millet.
Making fun of mittens.
Making fun of non-human-hair weave.
DICK VAN DYKE.
Jane Austen.
Kiwi.
Yes. Have no fear--I would spare the earth for kiwi, the Alps and Jeeves and Wooster.
Saturday, March 8, 2008
How to Be Frugal and Experience Life in Italy Without Being Robbed By Gypsies or Going Crazy... a Reflective
A. 1) Don't forget that you are in Italy--and may never go there again. Therefore, see exactly what you want to see. I studied Michelangelo for about a zillion years; I really wanted to see the collections of his sculptures at the Academia in Florence but I let time and wealth constraints dominate my judgement and I went to the Palazzo Pitti instead. Of course, the Palazzo Pitti, a Renaissance palace, was great; it had Boticellis and Raphaels and Titians out the wazoo, not to mention amazing architecture, which is one of my favorite things about visiting Italy, but in the end, I have a much larger emotional investment in Michelangelo than in the Medicis. Florence is famous for its very intricate replicas, but apparently the copy of David that I saw outside the Palazzo Vecchio just makes you notice his big hands, and the original makes you cry.
Of course, this also means I have to visit Florence again, which I am ok with; I also have to visit Rome again... and I'd like to visit Bologna again, but that's another story.
A. 2) Be cautious, but don't get hung up on fear of getting pickpocketed. I think this also has to do with the fact that I did not go in tourist season, but I never had even a near-burgled experience. By the way, I developed and highly recommend the Fake Romantic Couple method of protecting your money while in crowds; wear one of those little zippy things underneath your clothes to put your important info and the bulk of your money in, and then put about 10 or 20 euros into your right pocket. Then take the left arm of a gay male friend. Of course you can easily substitute the Fake Romantic Couple method with the Real Romantic Couple method by replacing the gay male friend with an actual romantic entanglement.
A. 3) Find out what the plural of "euro" is before you go to Italy and spend money. And get ready--it'll be a bumpy, controversial ride.
A. 4) Know at least a few words of Italian before you go to Italy.
A. 5) Your new favorite alcoholic beverage is a caipiroska. A caipiroska, developed after the caipirinha, the national drink of Brazil, is popular in Europe but rare in the States and consists of pure vodka plus lots of sugar plus lots of lime or lemon plus lots of ice. Therefore, one will make you happy. Two will make you tipsy. Three will make you broke. So, if you're like me, you only have one. But you have to order one.
A. 6) Don't be afraid to have new experiences. Make eye contact with a Communist. Try pate. Order caffe corretto grappa. You will probably not finish it but you will be able to say you had Italian moonshine in your turbo coffee. Try to communicate with your bus driver who doesn't speak a lot of English. You might find out you had the same oral surgery and will be able to communicate by pointing to the titanium plates in your face and miming rubber bands with "ping" sound effects.
A. 7) Don't ever pay 2,50 E for two scoops of gelato. You can find 1,90 E gelato somewhere else. (Italy, incidentally, is a very expensive country. You should probably never live there. The euro did uncharacteristically crazy things to their economy and I think the lira is still somewhere in the land of dead money crying its eyes out.)
A. 8) You know those people who tell you never to spend money in Venice? They're so right!
Of course, this also means I have to visit Florence again, which I am ok with; I also have to visit Rome again... and I'd like to visit Bologna again, but that's another story.
A. 2) Be cautious, but don't get hung up on fear of getting pickpocketed. I think this also has to do with the fact that I did not go in tourist season, but I never had even a near-burgled experience. By the way, I developed and highly recommend the Fake Romantic Couple method of protecting your money while in crowds; wear one of those little zippy things underneath your clothes to put your important info and the bulk of your money in, and then put about 10 or 20 euros into your right pocket. Then take the left arm of a gay male friend. Of course you can easily substitute the Fake Romantic Couple method with the Real Romantic Couple method by replacing the gay male friend with an actual romantic entanglement.
A. 3) Find out what the plural of "euro" is before you go to Italy and spend money. And get ready--it'll be a bumpy, controversial ride.
A. 4) Know at least a few words of Italian before you go to Italy.
A. 5) Your new favorite alcoholic beverage is a caipiroska. A caipiroska, developed after the caipirinha, the national drink of Brazil, is popular in Europe but rare in the States and consists of pure vodka plus lots of sugar plus lots of lime or lemon plus lots of ice. Therefore, one will make you happy. Two will make you tipsy. Three will make you broke. So, if you're like me, you only have one. But you have to order one.
A. 6) Don't be afraid to have new experiences. Make eye contact with a Communist. Try pate. Order caffe corretto grappa. You will probably not finish it but you will be able to say you had Italian moonshine in your turbo coffee. Try to communicate with your bus driver who doesn't speak a lot of English. You might find out you had the same oral surgery and will be able to communicate by pointing to the titanium plates in your face and miming rubber bands with "ping" sound effects.
A. 7) Don't ever pay 2,50 E for two scoops of gelato. You can find 1,90 E gelato somewhere else. (Italy, incidentally, is a very expensive country. You should probably never live there. The euro did uncharacteristically crazy things to their economy and I think the lira is still somewhere in the land of dead money crying its eyes out.)
A. 8) You know those people who tell you never to spend money in Venice? They're so right!
Monday, February 25, 2008
Growing Pains... Or, How I Learned to Keep Worrying and Go Batspit Crazzzzzzy.
I am done with school.
I didn't even make it til spring break of my junior year.
I just keep thinking... maybe... if I leave school...
I will no longer have to do homework. I can be bohemian. I could get a practical job to support part-time vagrancy because I'm smarter than those full-time bohemians who die of tuberculosis because they didn't get a practical job fast enough. Stop writing five-act plays; start waiting tables before you die.
That is my motto. I learned it from La Boheme, Moulin Rouge, and all those movies where someone dies because the writer didn't wait tables so he could get medicine for the girl who dies of tuberculosis.
I will no longer be plagued by unrequited love. I feel like all love is requited once I no longer have the aging, uglifying stresses of homework.
I will no longer have to wait on the stupid #(*w$&%(w$ printers in the computer lab. I'm about to throw something to my left if the stupid Q(#$(&&#(&@(#$%@ printer doesn't start spitting out naked people for my figure drawings. SPIT NOW SPIT NOW SPIT NOW. It's been processing my job for a good fifteen minutes.
Side note: I don't actually mean curse words when I type gibberish; I just find gibberish jarringly pleasing to my aesthetic. It's so decisive and ambiguous and postmodern. Look at me, having an intellectual geekout over gibberish. How pretentious has college made me? I can fix this; I'm flunking out... see you on the flip side.
I didn't even make it til spring break of my junior year.
I just keep thinking... maybe... if I leave school...
I will no longer have to do homework. I can be bohemian. I could get a practical job to support part-time vagrancy because I'm smarter than those full-time bohemians who die of tuberculosis because they didn't get a practical job fast enough. Stop writing five-act plays; start waiting tables before you die.
That is my motto. I learned it from La Boheme, Moulin Rouge, and all those movies where someone dies because the writer didn't wait tables so he could get medicine for the girl who dies of tuberculosis.
I will no longer be plagued by unrequited love. I feel like all love is requited once I no longer have the aging, uglifying stresses of homework.
I will no longer have to wait on the stupid #(*w$&%(w$ printers in the computer lab. I'm about to throw something to my left if the stupid Q(#$(&&#(&@(#$%@ printer doesn't start spitting out naked people for my figure drawings. SPIT NOW SPIT NOW SPIT NOW. It's been processing my job for a good fifteen minutes.
Side note: I don't actually mean curse words when I type gibberish; I just find gibberish jarringly pleasing to my aesthetic. It's so decisive and ambiguous and postmodern. Look at me, having an intellectual geekout over gibberish. How pretentious has college made me? I can fix this; I'm flunking out... see you on the flip side.
Thursday, February 21, 2008
a. It's happened again; I'm drained.
b. REMINDER TO SELF: YOU HAVE TO SET UP NEXT WEEK'S PROPS SCHEDULE.
Slacker!
c. REMINDER TO SELF: YOU HAVE TO ACTUALLY PLAN.
Slacker!
d. The German word for "twelve?" Who knew it was so hard to pronounce? Gee, I'm so glad I'm not fixated on twelve; I'd never get anywhere with my German studies. I've been practicing "zwolf" for days; I'm still not ok with my pronunciation.
e. New shows? Need dramaturgs! I'm not sure people realize this; to their detriment or to mine?
Both!
f. While I may not retain any information relayed electronically in my lab science course (and will probably consequently do really badly) I'm totally fine with the fact that "lab" includes delicious quesadillas, homemade salsa with at least zwolf secret ingredients, an enormous dog, and fermentation.
b. REMINDER TO SELF: YOU HAVE TO SET UP NEXT WEEK'S PROPS SCHEDULE.
Slacker!
c. REMINDER TO SELF: YOU HAVE TO ACTUALLY PLAN.
Slacker!
d. The German word for "twelve?" Who knew it was so hard to pronounce? Gee, I'm so glad I'm not fixated on twelve; I'd never get anywhere with my German studies. I've been practicing "zwolf" for days; I'm still not ok with my pronunciation.
e. New shows? Need dramaturgs! I'm not sure people realize this; to their detriment or to mine?
Both!
f. While I may not retain any information relayed electronically in my lab science course (and will probably consequently do really badly) I'm totally fine with the fact that "lab" includes delicious quesadillas, homemade salsa with at least zwolf secret ingredients, an enormous dog, and fermentation.
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
So, I've been listening to the European version of High School Musical; that is, Romeo et Juliette.
As you might expect from a musical entitled Romeo et Juliette, it is overambitious and cliche-- hey, like HSM! (No... really... it IS overambitious and cliche; just in case you still don't believe me, all the Capulets wear red and all the Montagues wear blue. Romeo and Juliet sing at least three songs with "love" in the title. I warned you.)
And, extending the High School Musical connection... have you ever seen Lukas Perman, who originated the role of Romeo in Vienna, and Lucas Grabeel, who originated the role of Ryan at Disney, at the same place at the same time? (No, you haven't.)
Do you think there could be a reason for that?
Lucas:
Lukas:
Despite the cliches, and the Lucases/Lukases... well, ok... Lukas might be a little bit of a girly man, but he's prettier than any American musical theatre star is allowed to be...
(Ok, Lucas might also be a little bit of a girly man, too.)
I love it. It's more cheerful than Romeo and Juliet is allowed to be; it's more spectacle; it's just fun.
Tonight, I'm going to watch Northanger Abbey with Caitlin; I can't wait. Her boyfriend has been warned to stay far, far away. Tonight we will be girls.
It might even involve chocolate and listening to our girly mix CD.
It's like Valentine's Day all over again.
Times "girl/girly" was mentioned in this post: Upwards of five.
As you might expect from a musical entitled Romeo et Juliette, it is overambitious and cliche-- hey, like HSM! (No... really... it IS overambitious and cliche; just in case you still don't believe me, all the Capulets wear red and all the Montagues wear blue. Romeo and Juliet sing at least three songs with "love" in the title. I warned you.)
And, extending the High School Musical connection... have you ever seen Lukas Perman, who originated the role of Romeo in Vienna, and Lucas Grabeel, who originated the role of Ryan at Disney, at the same place at the same time? (No, you haven't.)
Do you think there could be a reason for that?
Lucas:
Lukas:
Despite the cliches, and the Lucases/Lukases... well, ok... Lukas might be a little bit of a girly man, but he's prettier than any American musical theatre star is allowed to be...
(Ok, Lucas might also be a little bit of a girly man, too.)
I love it. It's more cheerful than Romeo and Juliet is allowed to be; it's more spectacle; it's just fun.
Tonight, I'm going to watch Northanger Abbey with Caitlin; I can't wait. Her boyfriend has been warned to stay far, far away. Tonight we will be girls.
It might even involve chocolate and listening to our girly mix CD.
It's like Valentine's Day all over again.
Times "girl/girly" was mentioned in this post: Upwards of five.
Monday, February 18, 2008
Ich habe Angst. J'ai peur. I have--- ****
I'm still working on learning twelve zillion languages; or at least German and French. It's actually fairly easy to learn them both at the same time--the grammar of German is sometimes similar to that of French, and German vocabulary is sometimes similar to that of English. I have hope--j'ai de l'espoir, ich habe Hoffnung--that one day I will achieve conversational competence in both languages.
In other news, I am experiencing the growth of a new idea; it's a secret idea; it's rather dangerous. I haven't told anyone what it is. Like I said. I have a secret. Secrets are powerful. I have to choose--who I tell, when.
It has something to do with the title of this post.
In other news, I am experiencing the growth of a new idea; it's a secret idea; it's rather dangerous. I haven't told anyone what it is. Like I said. I have a secret. Secrets are powerful. I have to choose--who I tell, when.
It has something to do with the title of this post.
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