March 4, 2002

This rocks hard core. I'd been complaining about my lack of a nice web-based journal type thingy so that I could easily update whilst away, right? (Away being a very prevalent state with me.) Chris decided to rectify that situation. He send me a live journal code. So I now have a live journal. Go me.

Well, go Chris, really.

So you can expect some shorter missives there on those days when I am unable to get to my home computer and am relegated to the ones in the computer lab at school or the one in Lucas' office at work. Thank Chris. It's his fault.

Lately has been an epitomization (is that a word? If not it should be...) of the Chinese curse, "May you live in interesting times." Interesting doesn't begin to describe it sometimes. I haven't been very involved in CNU theatre lately, even though I am ostensibly a full time student and a major in the department, so when I only had one show yesterday and the one show coincided with the last performance of Where's Charley? at school, I decided to trot 'round and pitch in to help with strike there. It was the oddest thing. I haven't participated in a strike there in years. I have become spoiled, working so much professionally. I just tend to forget how very little I knew at one point. In addition to being a vivid reminder of my roots, it was an odd trip down memory lane. Quilters strike is a favorite. Nothing like dropping a barn. Literally. It fell. So did we. James and I were holding a rope, braced to catch some of the weight of a massive crossbeam, when all of a sudden the weight was no longer there. Nor was the crossbeam. We landed in a hysterical heap on the ground. It's great to begin feeling those memories without pain. Because some of them are damn funny!

After strike I went to the cast party, which I felt awkward about, but the stage manager, Amanda, made a point of inviting me, so I felt at least justified in making an appearance. It was fun, and there really is nothing quite like skinny-dipping in a hot tub, but it seems that the department, by and large, have grown much tamer since I was there. (I confuse myself sometimes - I talk as though I am no longer even associated, and yet, I clearly am. I can't figure it out either, so don't feel bad.) I finally left around 4:45 and got home at 5 something, going straight to bed, ignoring the call of the computer. Which is a shame, because I'm pretty sure there was something funny to say about the party.

I commented on my frustration around two to Mikey, because I found that I was at a party with a bunch of guys, all of whom were unacceptable for one reason or another. There was no reason to even flirt with anyone. There were a few who were openly gay, a few who will be, but haven't quite figured it out yet, a few who were just completely unattractive in an annoying kind of way, one who was apparently having trouble with his marriage (I am so not getting involved with that), a handful in relationships, Mikey, who is like a brother and Justin, who is off-limits for all eternity on account of the Code. We women may seem completely irrational and bizarre sometimes, but we generally adhere to a code of conduct with respect to our friends and where their dating can intersect with ours. Justin, for example, was the long term serious boyfriend of my very dear friend Kim for a long time, not too terribly long ago, though longer than the James/me split, I guess, and as such, even if I were interested, I cannot ever date or otherwise get involved with him, unless possibly many years from now Kim is in a better relationship. And even then I would have to ask permission. So it was a complete wash in the male department.

Kim says that a lot of my problem with men stems from the fact that I"radiate intelligence" and it intimidates them. I think it's because I'm not exactly attractive, you know? No, seriously, I do wonder what it is sometimes. How does radiating intelligence (something I am not entirely convinced that I do, even though everyone who heard Kim nodded in agreement) intimidate people? It just means I use my head as something more than a hatrack. You should too. The guys who should be intimidated by it - the ones who do only have a portable hatstand on the top of their neck - probably don't even perceive it anyhow, so if you are smart enough to know that I am smart, then you are smart enough to interact with me. I know that I have a tendency to enter the dreaded "friend zone" rather rapidly, a problem exacerbated by my unfortunate tendency to drink like a man, and ridicule those who don't, to laugh at all the dirty jokes and to generally be most comfortable around "the guys" - small wonder that I am so regularly relegated to that category. It's not like I exactly fight it. I never dress "like a girl" preferring serviceable jeans to a frilly skirt because you just never know when you might have to crawl into an odd space or scoot up a ladder, at least if you are me. I wear make up roughly three or four times a year. I don't quite scream bulldyke, but I think it's been assumed before. Especially when I had my hair all chopped off short. It's well over halfway down my back now though. Oh well, a source of some irritation to me. Not a big deal, I don't think - it will resolve itself eventually, and I don't even really want a relationship right now, but it would be nice to at least have some interest, you know?

I slept until really quite late this afternoon, after my carousing last night, and called up a few friends. (Stress a few friends, will you?) Last week Dave, Katherine, Walter and I went to the Taphouse for dinner on Monday, only to find that Monday's Happy Hour is more like a Happy Afternoon, from 5 - 9 and was all about $2 drafts on some really good beers. I was quite enamored of the concept (and so, to judge by our bill, were the rest of them) and fully intended to return this week, taking a few friends from this side of the water with me. So a few days ago I mentioned it to Kim, (who is featuring largely in this entry - funny) and last night I asked Angela if she would care to join us. I asked a few others as well, but somehow by this afternoon when we were trying to meet at school and go over, everyone had invited a few other people, and while I knew everyone I thought was coming, it wasn't exactly the intimate crowd I had been aiming for. I'm not going to place a value judgment on that though, because while, true, it was not what I had been looking for, it was quite a lot of fun, and there were a few people there I had not planned on having in attendance who I really was pleased to spend time with.

We had the worst waitress ever, something highly uncommon there, and ended up drinking our last round by going up to the bar and buying it, but we had quite an entertaining time and come 9 PM, when Happy Afternoon ended, we decided to go elsewhere. Tom suggested that we go to the Green Leafe, which is here in Williamsburg, and I was amused by the notion that I would actually be going out in my home city, and agreed, as did Sarah and Kim. Pretty soon the entire party was making the hour trip down the road and we reconvened after dropping off a few who decided they would rather sleep. I can't even tell you when the last time was that I was out in Williamsburg. It was sort of a shame that it was Spring Break and I couldn't invite my brother to join us, but maybe next time.

One funny tidbit about the Green Leafe and then I am going to bed. Once upon a time, not all that long ago (within my memory) there were murals on the walls at the Leafe and they were pretty cool. This fall I met one of the people who painted one of them. Not anywhere near here though. I met him in New Jersey because he was the scene designer on a show for which I was doing the lighting design, and one day over margaritas we were talking about where we were going next and where home was, when I mentioned that I would most likely be returning to Williamsburg. Turns out this guy, who lives in the city now and is a damn good painter and designer, graduated from my high school four or five years ahead of me. Theatre is so great like that. You never know who you are going to meet and it truly is a small, small world after all.