Out like a Lamb?

At the beginning of the month, Michael Bloomberg said that March is a month that "Comes in like a lion and goes out like a lamb."  Now, I know that he was talking about the weather, and in this case he's not exactly wrong (he's not exactly right either), but, when applying this note to my life, it is totally wrong.  The end of March is pretty much beating the crap out of me.  And here's why...

I sent my graduate school applications on Wednesday.  They will be reaching their destinations tomorrow!  I spent several hours in the post office on Wednesday and I'm pretty sure the woman at the International Mail desk thought I was a moron.  No kidding.  This is what my afternoon sounded like:

"You have to buy an envelope" 

"You bought the wrong envelope" 

"You have to fill out these 6 forms"  

"You filled this form out wrong, you need to do it again"  

"This address doesn't exist"

"Do you have the phone number of this place?"

"You need to sign this" 

"You need to do this again"

SERIOUSLY.  Kill me.  However, my packages are on their way to Jolly Ol' England and should be arriving there sometime tomorrow.  My stomach just did a summersault.  Wowza.

Also occupying a large amount of my time is the Theatrix! 10-minute Play Festival, which opens this weekend. I've directed a 10-minute play by Shel Silverstein called One Tennis Shoe.  It is absolutely hilarious, my actors are fanTASTIC, and I'm really happy about it.  If you are in the New York area this weekend and feel like a free theatre experience, head on over to NYU.  It's pictured below.

Yeah, out like a lamb my ass, Bloomberg.

Catch Phrase

I love coming home, and here's why: not only do I get to sleep in my own bed and play with my dog, but I usually don't have a ton of work to do and so I actually get a chance to spend some time with my parents. If you've ever spent any extended amount of time with my parents, you know that they are hysterical. I mean, my father's Celine Dion impression is enough to send even the most serious person over the edge.

This trip home has been no different, and today I received a language lesson from my mother and her best-friend. Some of the terms were to amazing to keep to myself, so here you go:

False Alarm: As in the phrase "She's a false alarm." Coined by Grandma Helen, it is used to describe someone who is all flash but no follow through. Examples are too abundant to choose just one, but believe me, when you see a False Alarm, you'll know it. They usually are wearing tootsie shoes, so says my mother.

Check-Out: Used to describe the end of anything--parties, projects, school years-- when all that stuff you didn't deal with initially comes back to bite you in the ass. Try using it in a sentence like this, "I was working on a show, and opening night was check-out crazy."

Tight Shoes: Grandpa Irv, my darling 95 year-old not-grandpa coined this phrase, which is used to describe someone who is admitting something begrudgingly. For example, you call a friend to chat and they immediately launch into a 45 minute explanation about why they haven't called you in a month and a half. As they explain their pathetic selves, you can say it's "like they've got tight shoes"--they've felt the pinch of guilt and now they just can't help but fall all over themselves trying to make it better.

Too Many Dollies: As in the phrase, "That party had so much stuff going on. There were just too many dollies." A phrase I didn't realize was specific to my family until I used it in conversation and was met with confused head tilts/eye squints, it literally comes from a time when Yaya (the Greek, perpetually 100-year-old grandmother of my mother's cousin) went to someone's house in Boston who had a room full of dolls. After an afternoon of showing Yaya the house, entertaining and feeding her, Yaya's only comment was that the house had "too many dollies, honey."

Shawshanking: Not mentioned today at lunch, but one of my favorites from my father and a necessary share. Used to describe a situation where you badger a person/an establishment relentlessly until you get your way, a la Tim Robbins in the Shawshank Redemption. Try using it sometime, both in a sentence and as a persuasive tactic. My father has been shawshanking the gym he goes to for months about locker room etiquette, and though he presently has nothing to show for it, he hasn't given up hope. You go, Dad.

These are all the ones I can remember, but trust me, there are literally hundreds, nay thousands of phrases that my mom and dad use. Living in my house is a lot like living in a Seinfeld episode, just ask me about the cast of characters at my parent's gym. I'm serious, there's a guy they call "The Swordsman" because of the exercises he does down the hallway sans sword.

Flying "Free"

Hi friends. I'm literally writing this in some very short down time while I am (potentially illegally) subbing for my cooperating teacher. Don't ask me how it works, just trust me, I'm not actually breaking any laws...I don't think.

I wish I had more exciting things to write about, other than my rapidly approaching departure from NYC for the sunny West, where I will be until Wednesday night. Should you also find yourself in a westernly way, let me know because I am definitely around. The pieces of my grad school puzzle are slowly falling together--transcripts, recommendations etc.--and after a lot of late night thank-you-baking, I'm nearing the home stretch. Now all I need to do is re-print things and figure out how the hell you send packages to the UK without spending $16,000,000. If you have any suggestions, let me know.

Hopefully home adventures will be exciting enough to write about, but until then, enjoy Spring Break (if you get one...sorry Ed. Theatre comrades). EXCITING THINGS TO COME (like pictures and maybe even stories). Keep a good thought.

I am a rock, I am an island

I'm an island. I'm floating in an internet-less sea. And it SUCKS. A lot. The internet in my apartment is broken for god only knows what reason and I can't fix it. In some sort of comical telephone nightmare, I can't call the East Coast branch of my internet provider. I actually have to call the Bay Area number (which is actually the billing number), which connects me to a different service provider and then they have to connect me to the East Coast where someone gets on the phone and tells me that they can't fix anything. And that's when I begin to cry...Seriously, I feel like I'm in some sort of terrible comedy vacuum. Ugh.

So that explains my lack of blogging. That and there hasn't been anything very exciting to report. I stage managed a production of The Sound of Music at the school I am teaching at, which was insanity. Think on this: 65 students, ages 10-18, one stage constructed in the middle of a 200 year old Quaker meeting house, a set that I couldn't figure out how to move if my life depended on it, and me, standing in the middle of it all, attempting to organize it in hushed tones. Absolute insanity, let me tell you. The show went great, I haven't been that tired in a long time, and I remembered all the reasons why I want to be a director and not a stage manager.

Speaking of directing, I am about a week away from sending out my graduate school applications. I don't know if I mentioned the specific programs before. I'm applying to two MA in Theatre Directing programs and two MFA in Theatre Directing programs (the real program titles are much more complicated than this...like Theatre Practice with an emphasis in blah blah blah) in the UK and the applications are...confusing. Seriously, we all speak English and yet the British university applications have words like "module" in them, which I don't really know the definition of. Plus, the essay questions could be a little more vague. I mean, honestly, telling me to defend my application with no indication of length or desired content is lame. All four of my applications will be sent out by next Monday, so I'll keep y'all updated.

Hopefully I'll have fun, exciting things to report on soon. Until then, do yourself a favor and watch The West Wing. Due to my lack of internet (and my apartment's lack of TV), I've been re-watching a lot of things, one of which is The West Wing. It is usually my show of choice when writing papers and such, since the eloquent language is inspiring and almost like music. I've watched the 1st through 4th seasons dozens of times (an understatement to be sure), but it still has the power to make me both laugh and cry. For a taste of television genius, watch Season Two, the episode entitled "Noel." BRILLIANT.