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Monday, December 30, 2002
Steep trouble
Today is my first day back at work after a week off, during which I lapsed into a routine of late rising and later bedtimes. To make sure I would not toss and turn all night only to snooze through the alarm clock's warning I brewed myself a can't-miss bedtime cup of Sleepytime tea last night, which I sipped as I wound down my activities for the evening and laid out "school clothes" for the morrow. An hour or so later as I lay awake in bed totally unable to fall asleep I mentally retraced my tea-fixing steps and realized to my dismay that I had reached into the wrong jar and had in fact quaffed a full (and very strong) cup of caffeinated green tea.
Note to self: read the label next time, chowderhead!
this piece woven by Sandra Hull @
4:09 PM
Road Tripping
My annual holiday road trip to the parental home in Cleveland went well, in spite of a record 11-or-so-inch snowfall. It's always good to spend a few days with the folks, siblings, sibling-in-law and the various pets of all of the above but it's also always good to get back home again. Santa Claus was good to me (as usual) and my gift choices as Sandra Claus seemed to be well received. Well, except for the two items I ordered online and that weren't delivered until 12/24, after I had already left for Ohio, but those will go out to their owners-to-be tomorrow. Technically, you know, we are still in the twelve days of Christmas. None of this "Christmas is over the nanosecond the last present is unwrapped on December 25" business for me.
A road note: My outbound trip took me past the Pentagon (just a few miles down the road from my house and part of my daily landscape) and through Somerset, PA on the turnpike, where signs advertise "Flight 93 Tours." The return trip on Friday took me past both again, but just that morning I had a third September 11 moment, when a friend of my parents' who had stopped by to visit while waiting for his car to be repaired mentioned that the garage employee who had given him a lift to their house had lost his father, a New York firefighter, on that day and now aspired to become a firefighter himself. The same young man stopped by to pick the friend up when his car was ready and was invited in while said friend bundled up (did I mention the buttload of snow that had fallen?) My mom or dad mentioned to him what a wonderful thing he was doing, and what a fitting tribute it was to his father. "He saved 11 people," he replied with a mixture of pride and matter-of-factness. I wondered but didn't ask how he knew the exact number, which was coincidentally the same as the infamous date, because such cynical thoughts are best left unexpressed in the face of such earnest familial devotion. It's simply no contest.
this piece woven by Sandra Hull @
7:56 PM
Things that make you go "WTF?"
Spotted somewhere on the Pennsylvania Turnpike yesterday: A school bumpersticker. Text: Mt. Hebron, Home of the Vikings.
this piece woven by Sandra Hull @
5:45 PM
Blow it out yer nose
What sucks: sinus infections.
What rocks: Augmentin and humidifiers.
this piece woven by Sandra Hull @
12:35 PM
Beware the Ides of December -- Not
[NOTE: Blogger wouldn't let me post yesterday, grrrrr. The following should really be listed under December 15, 2002]
Today was The Big Day: my improv class workshop show! My 5 classmates and I went through our paces in front of an audience of around 50 of our closest friends and family members. Was I nervous? Yes and no. The last time I performed on a stage was in my sixth-grade class' production of Julius Caesar (I played the soothsayer), circa 1972. Even though my day job involves talking in front of groups of people, I have the dual luxuries of ample preparation time and pre-scripted material. Not the case with improv comedy! Nonetheless, in spite of some trepidation over one or two of the more rapid-fire games, I was confident enough in my ability to get through our program that I didn't lose sleep over it. Well, while I was sleeping last night I did dream about doing the show, but it was more like a mental rehearsal, no anxiety attached. I mean, I wasn't onstage naked or anything.
So anyway, it was FUN! The audience seemed to enjoy the show in spite of some obvious rough edges. Each class member rose to the occasion and rather than faltering over some of the stuff that gave us trouble in class, we hit a groove. A groove with rough edges, like I said, but a groove all the same. I got a few big laughs, but I mostly can't remember what for. The one that stands out is when I had to guess what items/activities my teammates were miming and I missed "prom dress," thinking it was "corsage" instead. The ref (our instructor) prompted me with "what else did you wear at your prom?" Without even thinking about it, I said "a bucket of blood." Now, I had previously heard tell of the rush that comes from a hugely positive audience reaction; today I got to experience it for myself. For hours after the show was over I found myself at random moments smiling at the memory of a wave of laughter that I felt more than I heard.
Another lift came when I ran through the audience on my way to the "isolation mall" so I wouldn't hear the shouted-out suggestions for the guessing game, which came after we had already done a few other games. As I jogged past the last few rows a woman near the aisle leaned toward me and said "you rock!" She was a stranger -- not one of my retinue -- making the compliment all the more sweet.
Speaking of my retinue, about a half-dozen of my friends came to the show, some with various members of their families tagging along. Friend Bob got a speaking part, announcing the chapters in our Story game. In the receiving line afterwards none of them avoided making eye contact with me, which I'm gonna assume is a Good Thing. One of my classmates told me that I had been "on" (whoo!) and another asked if I had practiced. Wha-huh? Practiced? It's improv, sweetie!
Friend Marty and his wife and daughter took me to lunch afterwards at the Rock Bottom in the mall, where a woman stopped by our table and told me that I had been very funny! Turns out she was a student in the advanced class, which was (as I learned from her) having their workshop show later in the day. She invited me to stay and attend, which I did, filling in the interim with some holiday shopping. Of course the advanced students did a smashing job, playing different and more character-driven games than we beginners did. Something to aspire to!
this piece woven by Sandra Hull @
8:37 AM
Poop is funny
It was probably worded that way on purpose, but I still chuckled when the in-house ad on the PA at the drugstore (where I stopped for some of those tissues imbued with lotion to pamper by sore, tender doze) that touted some palliative or other for a lower-GI malady ended with "... to eliminate the symptoms of Irritible Bowel Syndrome." Eliminate, indeed. Ha!
I had to supress an even bigger chuckle shortly thereafter when the canned ads were interrupted by a live announcement: "Manager to the pharmacy for a void!"
this piece woven by Sandra Hull @
10:09 PM
May I suggest a side order of deep-fried potato wedges?
Overheard at the takeout counter at Uno's this noon hour:
"And what would you like today?"
"Fish and chips, please"
"Ok. Anything else?"
"Yes. French fries."
this piece woven by Sandra Hull @
1:51 PM
Holy Underwear
I select 3 pair of panties (the kind that rhyme with "throng") and take them to the department store register, where I find myself handing my selections to a saleswoman wearing a Muslim head scarf. On some level I am instantly ashamed of my immodest choice of undergarment style, even though I know I really have no reason to do so. She certainly does not appear to judge me in any way -- she works in a lingerie department after all and besides, her choice to cover herself the way she does is of course *her* choice. But I'm still bracing myself for some sort of reproach and so I have to ask her repeat the statement she has just made to me. "You have 3 pair here. If you buy 2 more you'll get another free."
this piece woven by Sandra Hull @
9:48 PM
The Karmic Wheel Turns -- and runs over my foot
Last week I reported an inadvertent kitty injury that resulted from my post-improv-class exuberence. Payback was swift and twofold in today's class. Firstly, in the course of riding a bunny rabbit around on the stage using spaghetti for reins (you heard) I did something painful to my hardware-filled right ankle. Just as that pain was receding I took a kick in the right shin from an over-exuberent classmate. Owie! To add injury to the injuries, as I wandered the mall after class in search of Christmas booty, somewhat dazed by the pain and possibly by all the bright lights, I walked into a guard rail on the escalator, bruising my right thigh. I'm not sure, but I think Esme is laughing at me behind my back.
this piece woven by Sandra Hull @
8:14 PM
There's Snow Telling
Bad things about today's snow:
Good things about today's snow:
this piece woven by Sandra Hull @
8:06 PM
Safety Tip
Utz "Salt & Pepper" potato chips are hazardous to your health. Specifically if you happen to have a paper cut on the index finger of your chip-grabbing hand.
this piece woven by Sandra Hull @
12:36 PM
Tragi-comedy
Comedy, as we know, is neither easy nor pretty. It also, apparently, can hurt the ones you love. Case in point: I got home from improv class this afternoon exhilirated as usual (have I mentioned how much FUN it is?) and reliving some of my better moments from the day's exercises. One of these involved a scene set in the roaring twenties and so naturally featured the Charleston. Once home I Charlestonned my way to the coat rack to hang up my wrap then did a few kicks just for the heck of it. Sadly, I failed to notice that my cat Esme was behind me as I did this and so she caught a new Lands' End All Weather Clog (black) right in the puss. Luckily, I hadn't been Charlestonning too hard so she got more of a tap than a kick and is NOT, repeat NOT injured, but she still acted scared of me for an hour or so, in spite of my profuse apology and her acceptance of a reparatory tuna treat. Still, even as she shied away from me she walked around with her tail in the air, a feline sign that all is well, really. Quite predictably, all was forgotten and forgiven by the time her dinner hour drew near.
this piece woven by Sandra Hull @
6:39 PM