The Diary of Queen Mothy |
Sam, the Stagemanaging Freshman written @ 8:49 PM on January 23, 2003 Quote of the Day: (Related to our discussion of the pyramids) "All right now, raise your hand if you hate the architecture on this campus," said Professor Demarcus, the Professor Snape of the History of Europe to 1715. Two fools who were either very brave or very daft raised their hands. I happened to be one of them. "Oh really," crooned Demarcus. "Well, keep your hands raised... so I can get your names to fail you." My eyes widened in surprise. I suppose I should have expected that. "I was vice president of the school in those days," Demarcus mused, "and I was the one responsible for picking out the architecture of the university. I chose cement for the first building, because if I had chosen red bricks for the first building the entire campus would have been red bricks. "One night I was coming out from my first class and I met a resident from the community staring up at the building. He said to me, 'Hey, buddy... are you guys going to add color?' "Color! That would have been too expensive. Besides, it would have covered up my beautiful cement." It was today that I came to the conclusion that my history professor is insane in a way that I hope I will never be. *** I finally got internet connection back in my dorm... sort of. The hub that my roommate and I were using was busted, as it turns out. So now we're taking turns plugging our wires into the phone outlet. I'm doing much better than when I wrote that one horrifying entry from earlier in the week. I think I have evened out my work load to a manageable time frame (meaning I stopped outlining my history notes and have decided to play it by ear), and I've successfully slid into this new transitional period. All this means is that I can begin to eat again, and my chances of college survival have been increased dramatically. This is good news, so smile! Today was an ungodly cold day. If hell froze over, Satan would build his stronghold on the campus of NKU (or he already has, via my history professor). Did you know that they shut down entire communities in the far northern climates on account of the fact that if people go outside their lungs freeze? This was an unnerving piece of news I heard today, so I wrapped myself up in my Gryffindor scarf (which the entire theater department is in love with) and went on my not-so-merry way to class. Speaking of theater I did end up getting that stagemanaging job for the Y.E.S. Festival. For those of you who need some edu-ba-cating, the Year-End Series Festival is an event that occurs every two years in which institutions of higher learning put on shows that have never been performed-- in other words, world premieres from little or unknown writers who have hopes of striking it big somewhere down the road on Broadway. If you look inside the front cover of most published scripts, you'll see information on where the particular show you have in your hands was first produced, the original cast, technical and design directors, and, of course, stagemanagers. Basically, no matter how well or poor the show goes, your name is in print for posterity. The Y.E.S. Festival is unqiue, however, in that it requires the organization to put on various shows simultaneously. This is the time of the season where migraine medicine manufacturers make the most money. I can only imagine what it will be like; NKU is putting on three new shows this semester, in addition to the musical "Sweet Charity," and if I thought my high school shows were stressful enough, I'm in for a whole new ballgame. I also found it interesting to note that NKU is also the only undergraduate institution in the country that participates in the Y.E.S. Festival. So here I am, a freshman in college that has somehow along the lines of her time here procured herself a stagemanagement position. I'll be working with a show called "Three Women, Four Seasons." This afternoon I introduced myself to Mary Jo, the director, who is also a professor here at the school. She had no idea who I was, of course, but she seemed at ease that she had a stagemanager... or at least she acted like it. Coincidentally, she's an acting teacher. I really like Mary Jo. I talked with her at the beginning of the year about my ambitions in the theater, and she seems like she will accomodate me nicely and help me along more so than any other director in the department. I really have no idea what I'm doing; I'm actually kind of waiting for orders. But she gave me the script and told me to "do with it what stagemanagers do," as if I really knew, and I'm to go to production meetings every Friday at 2 o'clock and attend the script reading next Thursday. Rehearsals don't actually start until after spring break-- so this give me ample time to pull my act together, figure out how I'm going to approach this along with my 19 credit hours of college work, and pull off one hell of a show and ultimately secure my name within the higher ranks of the theatrical hierarchy at the university. Sam Reno the Drama Nazi is rising to power once more! Maw-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-haaa! I am in better spirits than what I have been, thank you, endorphins. Actually, what I had done was draw this very large picture of a unicorn with some of my illustration pens when I really felt like I had hit a breakdown point, and it put me at peace again. Restored my faith, you know? I had stopped drawing unicorns on account of AP Art last year and how, according to Ms. Hagedorn, they weren't "real art subjects." But art can be what makes you happy, and I never felt so happier than those two hours I took to draw my unicorn. And if you want some comely bits of advice, go see "Chicago." It kicked ass. And no matter how odd you think putting Richard Gere in a musical is, he did an excellent job and I give "Chicago" the Sam Reno thumbs up. If there wasn't so much other great stuff out now, I'd go see it again. *** Jessica, Sam refuses to ski or participate in any activity that requires subzero temperatures. Call me in the spring. I am hibernating. *** I splurged at the Art of History at the mall the other day. I bought a cream-colored vintage shawl, a book of unicorn postcards, and this huge-ass red Celtic knotted blanket. I had actually sweet-talked the Greek salesman into giving me discounts on all of it. I got the postcards for $7, the huge-ass blanket for $25 and the shawl for $40. I tell you, it's money that I really should not have spent, but the place was going out of business and I wasn't about to let it slip without making a killing! Who can really blame me?
A Bit of History ~ And Onward! L'Amour Toujours! - August 08, 2005 |
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