(no subject)

So I'm rewatching s1 of Slings & Arrows. First off, may I say I still love Maria a ton. May I also say that the line postmodern pseudo-Brechtian leather-clad schoolboy buggery design is AMAZING.

And may I also say that I never noticed until now that Holly and Richard have the exact dialogue MacB and Lady M have. "Are you a man, Richard? Or are you a little puppy-dog that does tricks for cookie treats?" "Prithee, peace! I dare do all that may become a man. Who dares do more is none."

OH SHOW. <3333

'kay, coffee and then rehearsal, and sometime today I have to figure out what the hell to do about the daggers. And torches. Crap.

(no subject)

How on earth does an actor make it to twenty years old without ever having learned to stage fall?

I mean. I'm pretty sure this isn't the black belt talking -- karate has helped me with a number of stage combat moves, and vice versa -- but I learned how to fall backward and sideways looooong before I started karate, and I was in half a dozen shows where it was useful information before I turned 18. So how do actors get to CMU School of Drama, for goodness' sake, get to their sophomore or junior year, and still not know how to fall without endangering their joints? This is basic stuff, people! Isn't it?

I mean, I can forgive -- sort of -- the sword choreography. Stage fighting with a sword is complicated, and I sure as hell couldn't choreograph for it; I've had just enough training to think I could do a decent-looking job in a fight, but. Anyway. Swords require training. Learning to fall requires half an hour, and it's vital for everything from getting punched in the nose to being drunk! How do you not learn it?!

Sorry. I'm having an entire tech week's worth of OMG DO SHIT NOW GET IT DONE GET IT DONE crammed into about forty-eight hours, plus I have a homework due in a few hours that I don't have any information for, and right now I need to go find detergent and a burlap sack and those fucking daggers. Fuck, I think I'm just gonna make daggers out of duct tape and cardboard tonight.

ETA: What's that you say, props master? The props lists were due Saturday? And I have no chance of getting to the warehouse to search for props?

What's that you say, director? You knew that?

Well FUCK YOU TOO. *head in hands*

I think so, Brain, but where are we going to find a full length tablecloth and a burlap sack at this time of afternoon?

(no subject)

*head on desk*

Home Depot was a bust -- the only burlap they had was a huge roll for $10. If this were ATY, I would buy it with hardly a thought, knowing I could give the excess to them and have it around in the future. As is? Screw that. The very nice guy helping me suggested I go to Michael's.

And then I nearly got lost in Highland, by myself, because I couldn't find a bus stop and it was only barest chance I got to an intersection just as a 71C arrived, and I had no idea where it was going once I got on. I got off the moment I saw we were at Morewood Ave., but then I didn't know which direction home was, so I had to ask a lady walking by.

Anyway, clearly I'm back now. I am starving and frustrated, so I'm going to go eat, make daggers while watching SPN, and plan to find and visit Michael's tomorrow -- because honestly? We could do the show with the props we have right now, as soon as we have daggers. I have Clever Creative Artistic solutions if we get neither sack nor tablecloth, and if the director doesn't like it -- well, I can't say "fuck him," because I'm dramaturging his show next year, and I would like to have a good relationship with him. But fuck him. If he'd gotten his props list in on time, he'd have everything already.

(no subject)

I continue to create a really really weird impression in my roommate and her friends. They walked in on me making foot-long daggers out of cardboard and duct tape, while the Winchester boys screamed dramatically in the background.

Yyyyyeah.

On the other hand, [Adiva] came by and went "MORE STUFF OUT OF CARDBOARD AND DUCT TAPE :DDD," because we made a tricorner hat for Talk Like A Pirate Day. So I gave her the really terrible six-inch-long dagger I made first off. She was thrilled.

At least no one caught me in the bathroom experimenting with the best way to make stage blood and covering my face and hands with it to test (red food coloring and clear laundry detergent, it turns out, stains much less than food coloring and corn syrup).