Tag Archives: Christmas

Dear God,  Not Snow! 

9 Dec

I live  in the most hypochondriac state in prob’ly the entire world, which is hilarious because we are considered granola by like most other state standards, and could feature on the cover of every Wheaties box from now to kingdom come. 

…We are outdoorsy as hell, will climb anything, run anywhere,  backpack for months, grow and compost our own food with our our waste products, join in every diet fad, fuel up with every vitamin supplement in existence, put sunscreen on when it rains, and show up in droves to picket dirty energy Big Biz when it wants to build some kinda new cancer-inducing shit in our backyards.

…All of which is rather industrious of us.

…But we also, will go absofuckinglutely bat-shit, if anyone, at any point, mentions the word, “snow.”

(We do it with “earthquake” too…and coming from the mountains of CA, I think both fetish-freakouts, are hilarious.)

…I think it’s because we are not properly equipped for either, in any great way…in that they happen so infrequently, there is no “plan of attack.” We only have enough plows to attack major roadways, so: you’re screwed getting out of your neighborhood to them, and they don’t do the useless-but-regular trainings for school children and employees to duck-and-cover under desks and stand in doorways — in case of a quake. 

…We are made to feel essentially helpless in these moments, which I suppose is what fuels the end-of-times panic reaction that both words elicit…so that everyone is running to Costco stocking up their built-from-100%-recycled-material panic rooms, and debating every possible disaster scenario over the water cooler, like: Move over “Survivor XX,” shit gets real now

…Which is essentially what we’ve been dealing with — all week long–from customers and retailers and builders. 

…Until, finally: it came. 

It snowed for five seconds last night, and my side of the state is all:

(Throwing up hands)

“That’s it!  Cancel everything! Close all the theatres and the schools! Blackout the offices!  Bet you’re glad you maxed out your Lowes card on that generator! And slugged that guy in Costco for the last giant flat of Dinty Moore stew! Where are the cell battery back ups?!  Holy hell, how will our Christmas gifts from Amazon even make it through now?! ”

Five. Seconds. 

Today at work, everyone I talk to is like, “Wow, yeah, we need to cancel that… The weather is just too crazy of an x-factor. ” And outside my window, as people continue to live in their little worlds of total hypochondriac denial: it is raining. 

…Not even a lot. 

 …It’s even doing that half-assed. 

…It’s spitting. Weakly. 

…Which is one of many reasons that my current home town just cracks me the hell up. 

(Together with the slogs of people who sign up for races all year round. Because, they claim there’s this thing called “runners-high.” Which, unlike Santa, is totally fake. And everyone knows it.) 

~D

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The One Where She Actually Goes Somewhere

6 Nov

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Listen.

This is kind of a big deal.

I just booked a flight.

…With money I don’t necessarily “have.”

…In that it “exists” but only in the literal sense.  It is actually like spoken for on behalf of bills and Christmas gifts and things.  But  talking to The BFF last night…after way too long of not, on account of schedules and general “life-getting-in-the-way” crap… I decided that I no longer cared.

…So this morning, I booked a nonstop flight to NOLA for a week in December.

…Because, as an adult, judging the need for wrapping paper, other-people gifts, and happy creditors…I choose “me” instead.

I am a selfish bastard. This is not new.   

What IS new is that I just sunk a lot of bucks (to me) to travel to the other part of the US, to be with my sister.  And ABOUT FUCKING TIME! 

…To ride a bicycle in 70 degree weather through the French Quarter, instead of wade through the rain, here. To sneak in all the secret night spot eateries and meet some four-star chef friends…to drink openly in the streets…tour all the theaters, see The BFF’s show.  To uphold our Christmas traditions of cookie-baking, five-course-meal-at-midnight-making, and drunken “White Christmas” sing-alongs.  

It isn’t really real yet…’cept only sorta.  It’s still that “hope” and “wish” and “intent” feel I’ve had for like two years now to actually DO the thing, instead of just TALK about it.  Only now, it’s actually happening.  I’ve got a mo-fo flight itinerary in my mailbox, yo!

I’M GOING TO NEW ORLEANS ON VACATION TO VISIT MY BESTIE! 

HOLY CRAP!  

…AND HURRAH!!

Peace, y’all.

~D
 
 

Gobfesting

28 Dec

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Just got outta seein’ the mind-blowing Cirque du Soliel: Worlds Away in 3D, with the whole Les Mis intensity still in my head from two days ago.  In short: my creative juices are full and wanna play with renewed fierceness. So its good that I have something to do that with then, am I right??

…Done now striking all m’Christmas stuffs, some cleaning tomorrow and I’ll be ready for a house invasion on New Years Eve, post an awesome rehearsal…cuz I just decided it was gonna be.

For now: m’tummy is full of chicken gnocci soup, and the intense need for some PJ pants and a mug o’ tea. So I’m gonna go tend to that and watch “MIB 3” in ridiculous clarity on my new toy.

Life is good!

All hail: 3-day-weekend, part two.

~D

Displaced Stuffs & A Happy Christmas!

25 Dec

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Playing with all my new toys, and finding homes for them around the house. 

…This is no small feat as my little home is already jam-packed, and in some cases a little displacement has had to take place. This always takes twice as long as it prob’ly does for other people, because changing things around makes me second guess the new options. I know I need to just make a choice and leave them till I get used to it…which won’t be for several days…but I keep getting all impatient and shift and re-shift them endlessly.

…Two and a half hours later, my brain is so “done,” you guys.

…Meanwhile, tomorrow am back to work, then home to strike the decorations on account that rehearsals this week need me to. I need enough time to clean  before the small New Years party Marty has nominated me to hold for all us cast adults. We’ll be too busy working scenes on the night of, and not enough time after to dress and get anywhere else afterwards.

Am uncommonly excited about it 🙂 

…No better way I can think to usher in the next year than with a bunch of family, after spending an evening doing something I love.

The bar is stocked.

Marty is floating food ideas in her head.

…And I can only do so much futzing ‘tween now and then, what with a full work schedule ahead.

Sitting here now with “Bells of St. Mary’s” on, sipping some Ceylon Orange tea, trying to calm my brain a bit as I gawk at Bergman’s face, roughly the size of my own, looking back as me from a new significantly larger TV screen. In fact, I keep getting sucked into it and forgetting that I’m s’posed to be writing something.

…I love you and all…but Bergman close-ups outrank you.

Don’t feel bad.

…They outrank pert near every person who has ever breathed.

And that’s the truth.

Ask anyone.

~D

P.S. Incidentally…in this last hour of Christmas, you should totally watch this:

The Inheritance Argument

23 Dec

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I  am eating Doritos at 1 am, after another whirlwind day of, “oh, but I never knew that that was gonna happen.”

…It’s becoming a norm for me, which is really unsettling for a person who clings to habits and planning like one of those suction-cup window Garfields, from the 80’s.

I am growing, as a human, they tell me.

…After changing plans with J, because of a Mr. Cuteness illness, I was swooshed into Greek eats with Ma, then recruited to theatre viewings with Marty with about 40 minutes warning, secured a ticket via JM, met up and saw the show wearing the same fleece get-up from 10 this morning, and had after-drinks, while solving all the artistic problems in the Universe, with The Fella and Marty.

…Then there was this whole brush with the law, and Shop 101 class, discussion of why you need a penis on your side when talking about anything having to do with motor vehicle repairs, and finally made it home in time to send out another late blog, which I view as “technically” the correct day it needs to be done in, even though it is actually “tomorrow,”  on account that I haven’t been to bed yet, so it is “technically” still “today”

This is getting way complicated, I know, but one tends to reach when attempting to justify oneself.

…Also, these Doritos are from yesterday’s lunch.  And they are gone now. There were only about 4 left…slightly stale.

…Listen: I’m tired (big surprise), and still haven’t finished all the stuff I needed  to do today.  Namely stocking stuffers, and the ever insufferable wrapping.

God, I hate wrapping.

…It is the job that is just never completed. 

Presents seem to breed, even in tight pocketbook circumstances, and here I sit to eternity, paying for the consequences.  And now I have this huge turn-of-the-century framed picture to wrap as well.  It’s Ma’s gift, and she already knows about it, as she pointed at it in an antique store and said, “I want that.”  So I obligingly purchased it for her.  And it was then placed in a garbage bag to keep the rain off it in transference to the car. 

…A garbage bag. 

…On a $210 Bronte-esq print with original Kensington Hyde Street framing from London.  With a stamped label.

This is the world of irony I live in.

…And now it sits in my room…in the same garbage bag, waiting for me to return its dignity by wrapping it in paper with sleighs and Christmas trees slobbered all over it, so Ma can open it in two days, while pretending the whole time to be totally surprised by its very existence.  And she will go on about it, just like she did in the antique store, as if she has never seen it before this moment…including the highly unsavory moment she likes to always include in matters of collectables in reminding me that, “this will, after all, belong to you one day.” 

…As if plotting for my inheritance upon my mother’s death is something that I always consider in my present-purchasing.

Me: Why the hell would you say that, even? It’s Christmas and  this is your gift. Every time you say things like this it feels like you have my name on a little sticky dot placed on the back, just waiting so when you drop off the twig someday, this will all be mine.

She:  Well, it will.

Me:  But I don’t wanna think about it!  For god’s sake, you’re my mother!

She: But it’s a really good picture.  And it would look nice in your bedroom and all.

Me: Stop it!  Stop it! I’m buying you a Christmas gift, for shit’s sake! I don’t wanna think of how it may look on my wall when you are dead!

She: …I’m just saying…

Me: Look: Do. You. Like. The. Picture?

She: I do.

Me:  Does it make you happy?

She:  It does.

Me:  Do you have a place to put it?

She:  Yes.

Me: Then can I please buy it for you without death being in the same sentence?

She:  Sure.

Me:  Alright then.

She: …But, just for future reference–

…These are the kind of Christmas conversations I have with my mother. Sober or not.  In joy or sorrow.  Death and inheritance are apparently very  huge to her, even though I am an only child, who has a habit of keeping absolutely everything but gum wrappers…because of some sentimental link or another.  Which tells me, I have been FED this disease from childhood (one suspects), and have been programmed to accept it.  And I adore it.  But not when talking about a picture I’m about to buy you, whose exsistance in your home you are only justifying as a weird kind of savings account placeholder for when you kick the bucket.

…So, let it be known.

…And now I’m off to wrap some more…

~D

Running Behind

22 Dec

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Just got home, for the first time since 10:15 this morning.

…I’m beat, but the happy kind…the kind that knows I still have three more days off work, and I’m aloud to sleep in for all of them.

Good through-line rehearsal, running the show for the first time, and bonding with the peeps, today.  Delicious little sound-bites, and curious eye twinkles, and naughty grins, and confidential truisms: that is the world we live in.  Terrifying though it can sometimes be. And yet, there is almost nothing greater on earth than kicking back over a drink with casties, chewing over the risks taken throughout the day, the things we appreciated seeing in the others, the choices that sent the run in this whole other level of strength and curiosity, the compliments and admiration of the other person’s work. 

…It’s been a helluva year, being so blessed with this continued streak of great show-families to work with. 

Our young ladies were absolutely dedicated to the classes and history work we did today, which helped immensely in their stage presence…the adults spent huge pockets of time line-running in off scenes, and further soaking the show into the artistic sponge cake of our brains.  The tech departments watching, got a strong and realistic look at the bones and beginning muscle tissue of the show before the final work and push, and suddenly…”angst” and “sex” and “separation” and “stakes” are registering at this whole other level. 

Lots still to be found (obviously), but we’re in a good place.

…I may even say, we are in a GREAT one, as Mr. Director saw fit to give us tomorrow off.

So now, we have a “Holiday,” proper.

…And I have more time for all that running around, and last-minute-purchasing that I have to get done.

…And possibly a blog finished on time before the click over to midnight has passed.

…Which I clearly need to work on.

Apparently.

…But just know: it’s been for a good cause.

Happy dreams, loves.

~D

Hurry, Hurry!

21 Dec

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Can’t, don’t have time!!

…Lesson plan finish up, all day, then more Christmas shopping with Ma, and hang time with The Fella, JM and Dame Builder (his ever-cooler-than-most, wife.)

…Am now in purgatory, wrapping to infinity. 

Full day rehearsal tomorrow, need sleep, and a shower, and another one tomorrow.

But, “Love Actually” is in the player to keep me warm. 

…And I fucking love it. Actually.

P.S.  Buying clothes for bottles of alcohol might be my favorite thing ever.  I hope Marty likes it 😉

~D

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