Charisse is:
- so, so tired of airports.
- determined to never travel anywhere, ever, with more than a carry-on (OK, and a purse).
- surprised by how very pleased she is to be back in the USA.
- sad that the Red Mango frozen yogurt was not good (even though "pomegranate" is an awesome flavor).
- grateful that Americans understand the concept of personal space, even in massive airport lines.
- happy not to be seated next to anyone single/attractive/flirtable, as she has a non-hideable cold sore.
- wondering if her chances of being seated next to someone single and attractive and flirtable will increase if she manages to travel with only a carry-on (sans cold sore).
- sitting directly behind the plane's token cranky toddler, for the leg of the trip that does not include an in-flight movie (i.e., headphones).
- glad she has a couple of movies on her laptop, and headphones.
March 30, 2011
March 27, 2011
Sunday Snippet
"Man cannot raise himself to higher things through what he would like to accomplish, but by what he endeavors to accomplish."
- Elder Glancy
At the end of today's fast-and-testimony meeting the bishop announced the closing hymn, then looked over to find the pianist looking back at him with a little confusion and panic as the chorister was missing. (Poof. Gone. Slipped out at some point, and had not slipped back in!) The bishop, having had some musical training, picked up a hymnbook and rather sheepishly moved over to "lead" the music. (He was waving his arm - sheepishly, mind - to the music, and got the right time signature by the second measure, but I wouldn't actually say he was conducting anything.) Just before the end of the first verse, the chorister (sweet, loopy Jean) walked back in; stepped up to the stand and took a spot next to the bishop, looked up at him looming over her (tall - short), and started conducting right along with him. I thought I heard a faint choking noise behind me. The bishop, noticing Jean, rather awkwardly moved back to his seat a couple of measures into the second verse. Just as Jean really got into the swing of things, the music stand in front of her inexplicably began sinking (the bishop had been holding his hymnbook in his other hand) and she immediately stopped conducting and tried to fix it. I heard the choking sound again.
By the end of the two-verse hymn Jean was hunched over a very low music stand, the bishop had checked out, and I couldn't look at either of them because I was nearly in tears trying to keep from laughing. As Jean sat down I glanced back (it was safer than looking forward) and found the Relief Society President looking at me - both of us cracked up and fought to smother our giggles (once again, she sounded like she was choking) before the closing prayer.
I love my ward.
ETA: Just came across this post by Scott Adams. Fascinating. Such interesting commentary on communication, clarity of intent, and just how much credit people are willing (or unwilling) to give each other.
- Elder Glancy
Faith is seldom Comfortable.
* * * * *
At the end of today's fast-and-testimony meeting the bishop announced the closing hymn, then looked over to find the pianist looking back at him with a little confusion and panic as the chorister was missing. (Poof. Gone. Slipped out at some point, and had not slipped back in!) The bishop, having had some musical training, picked up a hymnbook and rather sheepishly moved over to "lead" the music. (He was waving his arm - sheepishly, mind - to the music, and got the right time signature by the second measure, but I wouldn't actually say he was conducting anything.) Just before the end of the first verse, the chorister (sweet, loopy Jean) walked back in; stepped up to the stand and took a spot next to the bishop, looked up at him looming over her (tall - short), and started conducting right along with him. I thought I heard a faint choking noise behind me. The bishop, noticing Jean, rather awkwardly moved back to his seat a couple of measures into the second verse. Just as Jean really got into the swing of things, the music stand in front of her inexplicably began sinking (the bishop had been holding his hymnbook in his other hand) and she immediately stopped conducting and tried to fix it. I heard the choking sound again.
By the end of the two-verse hymn Jean was hunched over a very low music stand, the bishop had checked out, and I couldn't look at either of them because I was nearly in tears trying to keep from laughing. As Jean sat down I glanced back (it was safer than looking forward) and found the Relief Society President looking at me - both of us cracked up and fought to smother our giggles (once again, she sounded like she was choking) before the closing prayer.
I love my ward.
ETA: Just came across this post by Scott Adams. Fascinating. Such interesting commentary on communication, clarity of intent, and just how much credit people are willing (or unwilling) to give each other.
March 26, 2011
Trivial Pursuit - Pirate Style
Tidbit for the day:
Evidently, pirates were (are?) much more religious than we thought. Originally, the skull-and-crossbones was a symbol of resurrection, which is why Georgian-era tombstones are often decorated with the image.
Don't worry, though, it's still creepy - the "crossbones" are there so the person can dig their way out of the grave. Brrrr. The hourglass with wings represents the passage of time until the resurrection, not an early version of Red Bull (or feminine hygiene products. Sorry. Just me).
In other news: Hampstead actually had a pretty decent poorhouse, as compared to the really scary ones the rest of Dickensian England avoided; Jane Austen's aunt was named Philadelphia, and her cousin Eliza (Philly's daughter) was a) possibly illegitimate, b) probably Jane's inspiration for several characters and stories, and c) eventually married to her own cousin (Jane's brother - although in everybody's defense, this was not such a big deal back then); and it was fairly common for families to keep re-opening graves to bury family members one on top of the other. Now THAT'S togetherness!
See all the things you can learn wandering around an old graveyard on a Saturday morning? Come visit! I'll give you a tour! (No, seriously. After the tour I signed up to be a volunteer tour guide in the area. I'm a theatre student - I can TOTALLY make up all kinds of interesting "facts"!)
In conclusion, pirates were either metaphorically hoping for a better life in the world to come, or using a scary picture to encourage the arrival of a better life in this one. Your call.
Evidently, pirates were (are?) much more religious than we thought. Originally, the skull-and-crossbones was a symbol of resurrection, which is why Georgian-era tombstones are often decorated with the image.
Don't worry, though, it's still creepy - the "crossbones" are there so the person can dig their way out of the grave. Brrrr. The hourglass with wings represents the passage of time until the resurrection, not an early version of Red Bull (or feminine hygiene products. Sorry. Just me).
In other news: Hampstead actually had a pretty decent poorhouse, as compared to the really scary ones the rest of Dickensian England avoided; Jane Austen's aunt was named Philadelphia, and her cousin Eliza (Philly's daughter) was a) possibly illegitimate, b) probably Jane's inspiration for several characters and stories, and c) eventually married to her own cousin (Jane's brother - although in everybody's defense, this was not such a big deal back then); and it was fairly common for families to keep re-opening graves to bury family members one on top of the other. Now THAT'S togetherness!
See all the things you can learn wandering around an old graveyard on a Saturday morning? Come visit! I'll give you a tour! (No, seriously. After the tour I signed up to be a volunteer tour guide in the area. I'm a theatre student - I can TOTALLY make up all kinds of interesting "facts"!)
In conclusion, pirates were either metaphorically hoping for a better life in the world to come, or using a scary picture to encourage the arrival of a better life in this one. Your call.
March 20, 2011
Comic Relief, Indeed
I could be biased, but I'm pretty sure that at this point in my life I haven't seen much that was funnier than eight 60-plus-year-olds all in a row blowing their hearts out to "Ride of the Valkyries" on kazoos.
Previous Guinness World Record for Number of Kazoos Played Simultaneously: 3,861
Current Guinness World Record for Number of Kazoos Played Simultaneously: 3, 910
And I was there! An "Official Witness", I helped make it happen!
(I really hope this is not the pinnacle of excitement in my life. Just saying.)
ANYway, Royal Albert Hall, Red Nose Day Comic Relief Concert, a bucket 'o kazoos, and deely-boppers! (Did you know those headbands with springs and glittery balls had a name? I didn't.)
Previous Guinness World Record for Number of Kazoos Played Simultaneously: 3,861
Current Guinness World Record for Number of Kazoos Played Simultaneously: 3, 910
And I was there! An "Official Witness", I helped make it happen!
(I really hope this is not the pinnacle of excitement in my life. Just saying.)
ANYway, Royal Albert Hall, Red Nose Day Comic Relief Concert, a bucket 'o kazoos, and deely-boppers! (Did you know those headbands with springs and glittery balls had a name? I didn't.)
This? Right here? Was FUN.
(Even if I do look like I'm trick-or-treating in Hell.)
Volunteerism WORKS!
One or the Other
Lookie, lookie! New blog design! That actually looks remarkably similar to the old one!*
I'm a creature of habit. I liked the old design - in fact, I only changed it so that the comic strips I like to post occasionally would, as they say, appear to greater advantage. *shrugs* Priorities.
I'm a creature of habit. I liked the old design - in fact, I only changed it so that the comic strips I like to post occasionally would, as they say, appear to greater advantage. *shrugs* Priorities.
(The strip is "Frazz" by Jef Mallett, by the way. Go buy his books - the characters are great, the art is engaging, and the jokes are fun-nnnny. Also funny? Bill Bryson. His "A Short History of Nearly Everything" rocks my socks.)
*ETA: Once you re-design, you can't stop... it's been changed three times since this post, and now looks pretty much nothing like the original. Oh, well.
March 15, 2011
In the Form of a Question
And that question is: "Sorry, um, WHAT exactly are you talking about with the flour?" (If you haven't been here for a while, you'll see the pictures in the next post.)
And the answer is: Remember when I talked about devised theatre? Well, that's what the flour thing is. My group decided to work on a piece (i.e., someday performance) based on "memory" - retelling of stories, recall, absence (loss of memory), things that are kept, things that are left behind, traces and patterns, etc... Somebody in the group had the bright idea that we should bring in flour and spread it on the floor and walk around in it to see what kinds of patterns we could make (I seem to remember contributing to that conversation) and what we found was that it was much more fun to roll around in it and bury people in it and just generally get it all over the place. That's where the pictures came from. Well, a week before our first performance of the piece we had developed (so far) our group's "set designer" decided that we WOULD be bringing back the flour, and it WOULD be (relatively) deep, and it WOULD cover the entire stage/performance space. The rest of the people on the course loved the flour, naturally, it being so artistic and meaningful and connective as a performance material (yes. I know) and so we did it AGAIN for the second performance that happened today.
We're getting really good at cleaning up several dozen pounds of flour from the floor.
Final performance (Flour 3 - again, see next [previous - either way, down the page] post for reference) - we went from this:
To this:
And finally, to this:
We actually had the masks in case someone had a gluten allergy and couldn't breathe with the flour in the air (see it?) and at this point in the cleanup I decided we probably ought to save whatever percentage of our lungs we had left. Plus, they look funny.
Next question: "And they really give you a DEGREE for this?!?"
(P.S. I did make SOME contribution to the project... outside, in the "lobby", was the lobby display I designed based on our process documentation - i.e., memories.)
The strings are connections, "traces", between ideas and images, while the laptops are playing videos (sped-up into time-lapse sequences, or in one case, slowed waaaay down) of our rehearsals. I know, a little heavy-handed... but hey - I'm just a student!
And the answer is: Remember when I talked about devised theatre? Well, that's what the flour thing is. My group decided to work on a piece (i.e., someday performance) based on "memory" - retelling of stories, recall, absence (loss of memory), things that are kept, things that are left behind, traces and patterns, etc... Somebody in the group had the bright idea that we should bring in flour and spread it on the floor and walk around in it to see what kinds of patterns we could make (I seem to remember contributing to that conversation) and what we found was that it was much more fun to roll around in it and bury people in it and just generally get it all over the place. That's where the pictures came from. Well, a week before our first performance of the piece we had developed (so far) our group's "set designer" decided that we WOULD be bringing back the flour, and it WOULD be (relatively) deep, and it WOULD cover the entire stage/performance space. The rest of the people on the course loved the flour, naturally, it being so artistic and meaningful and connective as a performance material (yes. I know) and so we did it AGAIN for the second performance that happened today.
We're getting really good at cleaning up several dozen pounds of flour from the floor.
Final performance (Flour 3 - again, see next [previous - either way, down the page] post for reference) - we went from this:
(Those are empty flour bags on the left... the hole in the middle was filled in with flour we saved from the last performance, stored in four black garbage bags. This ends up at least an inch deep.)
And finally, to this:
Next question: "And they really give you a DEGREE for this?!?"
(P.S. I did make SOME contribution to the project... outside, in the "lobby", was the lobby display I designed based on our process documentation - i.e., memories.)
March 13, 2011
I'm Working Heah
A few visuals on what I've been working on (for the past two months):
Flour Part 1 -
Flour Part 1 -
Flour Part 2 -
Just kidding.
(But not too far off. I will get actual pictures of Flour Part 3.)
((I don't know anybody named Jenny Ross. Sorry.))
Cleanup of Flour Part 2 -
The Initial Wall of Stuff. This is part of my lobby display.
This picture just cracks me up.
"Only two weeks left! How COULD she die on us now?!?"
"I know, right? And she's totally clashing with the carpet."
"Whatevs, dudes. Can we still use the body in our piece?"
* * * * *
Ah, theatre.
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