Wrong On So Many Levels

Offspring has outgrown so many things lately that it's getting hard to keep track. She once used to BEG us to tune the satellite radio to Radio Disney, but that has long gone the way of the dodo. I don't think I've seen my delicate flower of womanhood in a dress in about 2 years, at the least. She's dropped cartoons and Disney Channel shows for Japanese anime shows, which she discusses at great lengths with her friends. Also long gone are the crafty projects that we used to do together and the little-girl fascination with nail polish and horses. These days, the nail polish is black, and the only horses I see are the ones that she draws getting hacked to bits in samurai battles. (Well, maybe that last is a bit of an exaggeration. They aren't "samurai" battles, they're demons who fight using parts of their souls. And, generally, there aren't any horses to speak of.)

We used to watch a lot of kids TV -- anyone who has kids of a certain age know exactly what I mean when I say I watched a full boatload of "Blue's Clues". Offspring had certain videotapes that she watched with approaching near-religious fervor. Among those tapes (and see; it was so long ago that they were TAPES, not DVDs.) was "Big Bird Goes to Japan", which might have been the starting point for the love of all things Japanese she currently exhibits; and a bajillion "Rugrats" episodes. Her most favorite, though, were the Disney Sing-Along tapes. We watched the Christmas and Halloween ones at least once a week, and usually a lot more often than that. We actually wore out VHS copies of both of those tapes, requiring new ones because the screaming without them was hideous to hear.

Then there were the shows that we tried desperately to keep her away from because they made her father and I want to shove icepicks deep within our own brains. "Barney" was pretty much universally hated, and was something she only watched at other people's houses. I think we had her convinced that Barney tapes could only live at other people's houses, and we weren't allowed to own them. I particularly hated "Caillou," and still do , even unto this day. He's such a whiny little prat that I want to smack him. I can't have it on at school, or the red haze descends, and pretty soon I'm being called in the office for yelling inappropriate things at the TV and waving appendages in the air that should not be waved when children are about.

Juggling Freak's favorite show had to be The Big Comfy Couch. He had a serious thing for Loonette the Clown, and even today will make lewd comments about her, and the size of her...um...melons. (Hey, I said it was wrong on so many levels! I warned you ahead of time!) Instead of walking around the house singing, "...on the big, comfy couch!", JF walked about singing the praises of "...the big-breasted clown!" I used to chuck small toys and pacifiers at him when I heard his more-risque version of that theme song, but worse BY FAR was his fascination with the Clock Rug Stretch. It was embarrassing to see a grown man drool and say, "C'mon nine-fifteen!"

It makes me glad that Offspring outgrew that particular show.....

And Once Again, All Is Right With The World

Offspring, who displays very little emotion lately except disdain and "I'm too cool for all of this" came up to me a little while ago, almost in tears. Her beloved iPod, which she got for Christmas, was somehow stuck.

My mother gave her an iHome dock, and we set it up last night because her cheapie CD player was no longer spinning with any regularity. I told her the iHome would not only play her iPod selections, but that it was also an alarm clock. Being that it's fericously hard to get her up at five-thirty in the morning, I forsee this coming in handy.

As she stumbles towards me in her haste, she says, with a note of panic in her voice: "Mom? Was there a certain way to remove the iPod from the dock?" I told her, "Yes -- remember? I showed you how to do it last night." And, I demonstrated the angle at which she was to remove the iPod.

She thrusts it at me, quivering with angst. "But, it's...like....STUCK or something! I took it off the right way, and now it won't do anything!" Listening to the earphones, I could hear that it did seem stuck in the middle of a song, and it was making this buzzy sort of noise.

I tried turning it off and on, and that did nothing, so I googled "troubleshooting stuck iPod" and came up with a list of several things to try. Apple's support page said to turn the "hold" switch off and on and then hold down two button simultaneously until the Apple logo appeared. It worked.

Offspring sighed a huge sigh and said, "Whoof! I'm glad -- I thought it was broken! Thanks, Mom."

See? I am still good for stuff!

The Verdict

Opening night went pretty well, except for me flubbing an entrance. One of the other cast members, however, knocked over what is supposed to be a stationary urn. I figure my flubbed entrance did no damage to the actual set, so I should be grateful that I wasn't MORE embarrassed because it could have been a lot worse.

Did pretty good in the dance that I generally screw up, so it was a give-and-take sort of thing.

Glued my left eye shut with false eyelash glue and that burned like a son of a gun, and I had to redo the makeup on that side of my face.

Didn't fall over, didn't hurt myself, and didn't step on either of my dance partner's toes, so it wasn't too hideous.

Offspring and Juggling Freak came, which was nice. My mother and a couple visiting from England (friends of the family) may come sometime this weekend, so that will be nice.

Now, we're one down, twelve more performances to go. I'm tired, and probably will be for the next three weeks or so....

Hilarious, And Sad, All At The Same Time

Went to rehearsal last night, where I find that the choreographer has inserted me (and three others) into a dance number in which we were not previously included.

Very scary.

I'm most definitely *not* a dancer. Most of the moves are within my grasp, but my timing is atrocious. I turn half a second after everyone else, and I'm gallumphing around like a maddened wildebeest.

I'll just try to stay in the back and not kill or maim my dancing partner.

First Rehearsal Impressions

Our first rehearsal was tonight, and I must say that I think I'm really going to like working with this director. He seems very organized and together, which is not at all typical for a lot of the directors that I've worked with in the past.

I'm not needed every night, so that means as little home-life disruption as possible. Which is a good thing. I mean, I want to get back into doing more theater, but I don't want it to be at the detriment of my family. JF was expecting to see me drag in at about midnight after tonight's run-through, but he was pleasantly surprised when I arrived home shortly after 8:30.

I do feel a bit "fish out of water" as the main body of the cast seem to be people who've worked with this director (and core group of actors, as well) before. I think it'll all be good.

Our first performance is at the end of May, and continue on into June -- 13 performances in all -- so I'll be walking around humming show tunes for a while.

Not What I Wanted, But It's What I've Got

Friday night's callback went fairly well, I thought. I read for an older woman's role, complete with French accent. The dance portion of the audition kicked my butt from here to Nova Scotia, but the choreographer said that even when I was offstep or on the wrong foot, I still had very fluid, clean lines. Uh...yeah. Whatever.

The call came early this morning -- no speaking role, but a voice role in the chorus. It was a sop to my singing....we liked you enough to have you associated with the show, just not enough to give you a major part. Ah, well. At least I got a notification this time, and it's a foot back in the door. Community theater here (and most likely everywhere else, too...) is so insular and incestuous that it's hard to get into the inner circle, so this is a good way to transition back into more work. I'm slightly disappointed, but it's better by miles than not hearing anything at all. And, if this doesn't sound too terrible of me, someone could always drop out. I know that sounds positively awful, but the one thing about working as an unpaid volunteer is that people sometimes do drop out, and the role needs to be filled.

So, first run-through is a week from today. The two co-workers that I auditioned with are both cast as well. The female co-worker got a voice role, much like I did, and the male co-worker got a small older gentleman's role. I'm happy to be in the chorus, if nothing else.

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We went to dinner tonight in a "famous" local bar and grill. We were seated near the game room, and there was a large party next to us that had about four children in tow. The parents were what I call the "yacht" set -- very Land's End/L.L. Bean yuppie types who care more for appearances than actual substance. There was an older girl who was about Offspring's age, a boy of about seven, a girl of about nine, and a toddler.

The kids started off in the game room, which had the swinging "saloon-style" doors. They were pretty noisy in there, but it wasn't so bad because it was, after all, a separate room. The doors did little to mitigate the noise, however.

After a while, the kids began running in and out of the game room, yelling and generally being rambunctious. We looked around several times, hoping the looks would get the parents to quiet them, but no dice. The parents were completely oblivious, sitting there eating their appetizers, drinking their little cocktails, and having a conversation.

Juggling Freak made a loud comment that the kids were being very loud, but this too, went unheeded. The kids proceeded to start turning flips over the brass railing that was next to the table behind us. The parents still do nothing to quiet the children down, or to get them to behave.

Then the kids start shouting as they flip over the bannister, and Juggling Freak has had enough. Usually, it's me that has had enough by this point, and I was on the verge of saying something out loud when JF lets loose. He says something about "why can't you little yard apes sit down and be f*#@ing quiet?!"

Well, of course, NOW the parents speed into action. The father puffs up like a little bantam rooster, and gets in JF's face saying NO ONE speaks to his kids that way; the mother stands there, stammering and red-faced that someone has *dared* speak to her precious babies; and the grandmother looks as if someone has smeared dung under her nose and told her that Martha Stewart really began her life as a streetwalker in Hoboken.

The grandmother gets all hot under the collar, saying that they come there every week, and that if we're so offended, we should move -- they *are* children after all. I calmly tell her that yes, they are children, but that we're dining with OUR child, and she has yet to vault over the brass railing like these children were doing. She reiterates that we're sitting next to the game room! Juggling Freak says, yeah -- it's a GAME room, not a Jungle Gym.

Snooty Grandmother acts as if we're just the most horrible people on the planet, and imperiously tells the others at their table to go get the manager to "deal with us." What makes me the maddest is that she acted like we were totally out of line, and she was perfectly within her rights to have us moved out of the way, as if WE were the people making the disturbance. Things eventually settle down, and everyone goes back to their meals. The wait staff look uncomfortable as they whisk away our dishes. The young man at the table behind us, however, gives Juggling Freak a thumbs-up as we leave the restaurant a few minutes later.

Good News/Bad News

Part of the bad news is that I can't seem to find the time for blogging lately. All of the cookie booths, meetings, and other assorted things are getting in the way of quality blog time! :)

The rest of the bad news is that I guess I didn't get a part in the musical. I say, "I guess" because I hear through the grapevine that it's been cast, yet I've gotten no kind of notification about a part one way or the other, so I assume that means I wasn't on the short list. The most frustrating part about this was not the actual fact of not getting the part, but the endless waiting, only to hear about the end result through a non-involved third party.

The good news is that the conference that I'm going to in April looks like a go, if I can only find a decent flight to DC for a reasonable amount. Also, given the fact that I haven't been on a plane since 1989, I'm not looking forward to a long flight, or one with lots of delays and/or transfers. The transfer part seems pretty unavoidable though, considering that hardly anyone flies on the East Cost without being routed through Atlanta at least once.

The district is going to pay all costs for the conference and hotel up front, and reimburse us for the flight, and give us a per diem eating allowance. Pretty cool. My principal has also authorized me to take professional leave for it, so I don't have to use my remaining "vacation" day. Not a bad deal, if you ask me.

Any bloggers in the near-enough vicinity of the DC Hyatt Regency in late April -- we on for dinner, or something?