Halloooow, party people! There’s a party going on in my head, and all y’all are invited. Don’t know what’s going on, but I am HaPpY today. I forwent* exercise this morning and slept in an hour (to 6:20), and it seems to have made me surprisingly cheerful. In other news, my new coworkers seem to afraid of me (heh heh). All joking aside, though, they don’t seem the most friendly bunch. I’m using my patented PA charm, but it doesn’t really seem to have made a dent yet. And I only have two weeks from yesterday (yay!) left. Ah, well. We’ll do what we can.
You may have noticed, in the blur of PA-has-too-much-time Massive Brain Purges ™ that I skipped yesterday. You may, in fact, have been grateful. But that is your own business. However, it turns out that inventory project is taking a LOT longer than I thought. It’s starting to reach the proportions of the li’l boxes o’hell from the last job. Siiiigh Bored, bored, bored, and they’ll catch me if I play. Boo. I’m still taking regular reading breaks, though. Two pages (mooostly) at a time.
I’m reading Deepsix, and I’m about halfway through at this point. Not bad for not really trying. This one’s a lot more stringently sci-fi than Devil’s Eye. Consequently, I’m not as interested. This is also a lot earlier in McDevitt’s writing career, and it shows. Not a bad little book, and the characterizations are stellar (so to speak)—to the point where I personally hope one of the people trapped on the doomed planet falls to the tsunami when the oceans “get ripped away”. He tells it pretty well, but the story’s just a new twist on an old plot.
Oh, hey, I just inventoried a letter from my dad! From 1987! That’s just crazy. I pinged him about it, and it sounds like it was related to a board he was working for at the time. Turns out some interesting stuff was involved. He’s going to tell me all about it when I’m home for Christmas.** But, really, it’s like a message—granted, a bureaucratic one—from the past. Dad’s signature and everything. Too cool.
On an entirely unrelated note, I’m amusing my poor, bored brain by singing random songs to myself (at low volume, of course), and I finally figured out some song lyrics I’ve been singing for years: “So, if you’re tired of the same old story, rip some pages…” (REO Speedwagon, “Roll with the Changes”) I get it—story, book, pages--! Delayed reaction, but still. I will also say, “Love in an Elevator”(Aerosmith) is both dirtier (not surprised) and more punful (quite surprised) than I expected. I would say more, but this is a child- and child-minded-friendly blog.
But I bet you all want me to get to the fun stuff, eh? The acting classes? I got a half-hour walk ahead of me to the Conservatory (lovely cool—slightly rainy), so, let’s go!
Last night was Script Analysis, which works the English Lit muscles (miss that! Might have to consider a Masters in Creative Writing next. Hmm…), but tends to be rather quiet. We did, however, have a lovely instance of what earlier, more barbaric, and less PC days (a.k.a. my childhood) might have dubbed a “Chinese fire drill”. I forgot class materials, so, to make a tedious story short, I made a quick, unscheduled trip home and raced to class. I got there, but I was the very first person there. My professor had told us (and I belatedly remembered) that he might be late if his train back from Richmond got in late. A classmate had also said work was mking her travel, so she couldn’t be there. The other girl is always late, so I wasn’t surprised she wasn’t there.
But, as a half-hour became 45 minutes, I started having visions of going home early. I checked in with the veep and, promptly freaked him the hell out. Teach had said he’d be there by 6:30, and he always rode his bike. Was he okay? He wasn’t answering his phone…
Well, veep came into our classroom, and we had a nice, awkward conversation. He was just about (to my horror) start the script anallsis of the creepy pedophile script when Teach arrved. We were both so releaved!
This was long about seven (an hout after class should have started). Teach and I proceeded to have a lovely, long-ranging conversation about politics (which is also part of our homework—two birds with one stone***) and the low-residency playwriting Masters he’s pursuing. (Low-residency Masters in creative writing, you say? Tell me more!) Then the chronically late girl made it, and we got to work—about an hour and a half late. Yikes!
You may have noticed that I skipprd over improv. But there’s no need for a crazy-intense blow-by-blow—and, believe you me, it’s not your typical improve class. Usually, I’m so good at making stuff up. But something about this class makes me sooooo awkward. But I’m learning so much from this class—things I never paid attention to (and am *way* over scrutinizing now, especially outside of class).
Right now, we’re working on status, which does not mean social status but self confidence and how you interact with others. I’m having rather a lot of trouble with this one. I think, in real life, I mixed around some social cue, and that really comes back to bite me in class. On the plus side, though, it’s relly helping me figure out how to bring my coworkers around to talking to me without having to break out the bamboo slivers.
But, anyway, tonight was WAY ntense. The girl on a business trip still wasn’t there, of course, but late girl^didn’t show up either and didn’t call. I’m thinking she might not be with us too much longer if she keeps that up. Thankfully, one of the alums came, or it would have just been me. And she’s the good alum. She just sparkles. All the time I got practicing also cleared the concept of status more. I have a better idea what it means. Now, I just need to figure out how to notice when it’s supposed to change…But, man, four hours on my feet emoting like I was on a soap? I am just wrung out. I’m afraid the party is over, folks. This brain is switching off (and it’s really hard to type while walking and still without a spacebar). Will say, though, it must have really rained while I was in class ‘cuz the sidewalk is damp and the air is AMAZING.
*Isn’t that a wonderfully awkward conjugation? You just don’t hear it that often anymore.
**This is especially cool because Dad and I haven’t really talked about “past history” before. I just realized I’ve never really asked, for Dad or Mom—or the Staircase, either, now that I mention it.
***I am so looking forward to the political aspect of my upcoming job. I really miss being in-the-know. I currently only have time for DC’s little McPaper.