adiva_calandia | Entries tagged with a christmas story

Load-out: *finishes with five minutes to spare*

Me: FREEDOM IS MINE.

Mom: So! How about those college applications? Remember, they all have to be in before January first and you only have four days to get them to your teachers!

Me: . . . Fuck.

But in spite of that, I think it's safe to say that my level of free time is going to go up, at least some. Because. NO MORE SHOW. No more shows until February, man.

Current Mood: accomplished

*flops* You know it's gonna be a long day when it feels like six o'clock at noon.

And, well, it was a long day. But between the scholarship app sent in (the day it's due to be postmarked *facepalm* At least it's not late?), the smooth IS meeting, the cheerful schmoozing with my teachers about college and class, and the two pretty good shows, I think it counts as a good day.

Despite the shows going well, I'm counting down to Sunday night. Just three more shows . . .

( A ramble on my theatrical identity. )

So there's me. How're you guys? Do I owe anyone tags or threads?

Current Mood: contemplative

. . . So, uh, yesterday was a busy day, huh?

*sets out decaf tea* Like

muffinbutt said, I have thoughts, but I'm worried about prolonging the wank, so I'll keep them to myself.

The kids in the show keep asking me if I'm going to stage manage Charlotte's Web, the next show of the season. I keep saying, kindly as I can, "No, I need a break after this." The kids accept this. The moms all laugh knowingly.

Three more days.

*smiling goofily*

I am wearing a frilly lavender sparkly strapless dress and sparkly jewelry. Prom isn't actually until tomorrow -- there will be pictures then -- but now I'm practicing, at my mother's demand.

I just felt like sharing.

*wanders off feeling pretty*

(The show went much better tonight than it did this morning, for those of you following along at home.)

First show went well.

:o

I mean, yeah, there were the weird sound cues, and the costume changes that did not so much go in a timely fashion, but it went well.

Now, I go take a shower and a nap before tonight's show. (I'm getting flowers!)

So. Last night's post.

The other part of that?

Is that if kids are so tired that they start falling asleep in the seats, and they have a call at 9 the next morning, you should let them go get sleep.

That includes your stage manager, who has to be at the theater before the kids, and who managed to not fall asleep in her seat only because she kept running around to check on light cues.

Dammit.

Dear Director:

You earned yourself some cool points when you sat down and said, out of the blue, "Do you watch Buffy?" (Well, maybe not out of the blue. Was it because of the kata practicing onstage?)

You lost ever. Single. Point. When you kept a dozen TEN YEAR OLD KIDS at the theater until ELEVEN BLOODY THIRTY.

We are a CHILDREN'S THEATRE COMPANY. We are theatre for children, of children, and most importantly, by children. Children who shouldn't be up past ten at night, let alone eleven. It should not be NEARING MIDNIGHT when they leave.

For God's sake. I cannot really fault you for yelling at the kids, because I would have, too, and I don't yell. But knowing that it's after ten o'clock and giving SEVEN PAGES OF NOTES nevertheless is not. On. One of the kids FELL ASLEEP in her seat, and I don't blame her. You're damn lucky it was so late, really -- none of the parents wanted to stick around to take the extra time to chew you out.

If I get chewed out, tomorrow, as the person backstage, I will be pissed.

Not on. Not on as a director, not on as a representative of the theatre company. Not. On.

--Your Stage Manager

Current Mood: annoyed

Well, it's starting to look like a show, which is always satisfying, but it's not there yet. This is all playing merry hell with my energy and sleep cycles, though -- for the first time since this summer, I started to fall asleep in class today, yet now I'm chipper (this latter probably has something to do with the half-caf latte at 5:30, admittedly). But even factoring in the coffee today, I've been weirdly energetic late at night after rehearsals. It's something about having to focus and engage to such a high degree for so long, I think. It leaves an afterglow.

I want to be on a headset, though. :( Headsets mean power.

Anyway. *eyes Poetry homework* So how about that Sylvia Plath, huh? Wacky fun or what?

I have a scholarship due Dec. 15, and an app to Harvard that would "be convenient to have by December 15", so those are going to be taking up my energies. *eyes Nita!plot* I may have to push that date back a little so I can have some time after finals week to get it set up. I can only hold so many organizational duties in my head at once, and getting into college and the show take precedence, as ever. Stage manager got to get paid, son.

*long breath out*

Next year, let's do the minimalist A Christmas Story. With the cast in all black and the set artfully suggested by a bunch of boxes and clever gobos. Oh, and a lot of mime. No one actually needs to see the leg lamp or the Red Ryder gun, right? Make the audience use their imaginations!

In other words, this is a hectic show and I'm worn out. Eight hours of running around putting up props and set pieces, herding kids and mothers, and trying to figure out WTF was up with the lights.

And I now present some Classic Lines from Ten-Year-Olds:

Boy (when my shirt rode up during warmups): You shouldn't wear short shirts! She shouldn't wear short shirts! Oooh, you probably got a date with a boy!
I: *debate the wisdom of talking about how he shouldn't assume that the qualifier to "a date" is correct*
I: *also debate the time necessary to explain that no, I'm quite single*

Same boy (off this outfit): Why you all dressed up? Oooh, you got a hot date tonight!

Different boy: [Male techie] is short like you are. *beat* You two would make a good couple.
I: *wonder when my romantic life became of interest to ten-year-old boys*

Same boy: *very earnest* [Adiva], you should watch Heroes.

*. . . starts laughing*

One of my RL friends wants to read a compare-contrast of YW and DiR.

You understand why I find this so amusing and satisfying.

Off to load-in, now.

*flails around at bar* Aiya, I've been missing so much!

( Milliways flail! )

Too damn much going on in there tonight. *mourns lack of time to play tonight* Hopefully tomorrow. Tomorrow, after load-in.

Speaking of the show, I could rant about rehearsal. I won't.

But so help me, God, if that kid pulls that come performances . . .

In other news,

ghost_light has given me three BPAL scents: Bess, Sudha Segara, and Juliet. She also put some Enchanted Bunny Musk on me, which is still quite strong and very musky. Um. I lack the vocabulary to discuss BPAL in any terms other than "floral!" or "musky!" or "spicy!" or "mmm."

50,123 / 50,000
(100.2%)

:DDDD

It's garbage, but it's therapeutic garbage, and who cares, anyway? I did it, in spite of everything. That's the kickass part.

Next challenges: running A Christmas Story and avatar!Nita plot before the end of the year. Oh, and doing the rest of the college apps.

(Now maybe this journal can go back to having actual content!)

Current Mood: :D

Sheesh.

Take our usual dozen small children, fill them with pre-Thanksgiving energy, throw in an unexpected pizza delivery in the middle of rehearsal to distract them, add a stage manager exhausted from twenty-four hours of college panic, and you have a recipe for one normally chipper SM snapping at the actors when they start goofing off while running the fight scene.

I don't like yelling at people, least of all kids, but so help me God, I will if I see people roughousing during the fight scene again -- even the ones who aren't actively involved in the fight. Few things get me as fired as a lack of focus during stage combat, and this scene is hard enough without distractions, since we're trying to get our lead to hold complex lines in his head while "punching" his partner's face over and over again.

I'm just -- physically and emotionally exhausted. I need these two days off so much.

In completely unrelated news, the "layer opacity" feature in Photoshop is my favorite.

For the record: Got a good ten hours after reading House of Leaves plot, though I woke up with my blankets tangled from tossing and turning. I, uh, suspect that both of these are due to the fact that I left my dimmer lights juuuust a little bit on all night.

Yep. I'm a wimp and I'm not afraid to admit it. :D

But srsly, massive fangirling for everyone involved. I could go through and point out all the parts that made me love specific characters/muns so much, but I'd end up spoiling the whole plot. *sigh* I wish I had more time to be playing, lately.

In other news, I ~~have~~ had freshly steamed asparagus that is delicious, I broke 20k words on my NaNovel last night, and I feel pretty good about things at the moment. Hopefully rehearsal won't ruin the good feeling.

20,526 / 50,000
(41.1%)

So. Christmas Story readthrough. The director, David, is still working on casting, so pretty much all of the little boys there tonight read Ralphie at some point.

(I'm going to attempt to recreate this kid's accent when he was reading.)

Boy: *as Ralphie* Ah always know what tahm it is and Ah'm nevah lost, because mah legendary Official Red Rahduh 200-Shot Carbine Action Range Model Air Rifle has uh compass and this thing which tells time built right inta the stock.

adiva_calandia: *leans over to

ghost_light, whispers* He sounds like Samuel L. Jackson.

ghost_light: *cracks up* Race you to blog that.

I had something this afternoon that was too low-key to properly be called an anxiety attack, but in some ways, it was still near paralyzing. Just listing the amount of stuff I'm doing -- or not doing, in the case of college and scholarship apps -- was enough to make me unwilling to move, make decisions, do anything.

It passed, after I made a concrete decision to walk over to West rather than mope somewhere, and followed through, and hung out with cool people.

I got home and was thinking, "Hey, y'know, things aren't so bad now."

Which was when I reached into my pocket to grab the key to the rehearsal space for tonight and found it gone. It was in the pocket with my iPod -- it was, I remember putting it there -- and it's not in the house or the car. Which means that at some point, I probably pulled out my iPod and dropped the key and didn't notice.

Cue profanity.

I'll go in and I'll grovel and I'll offer to pay for a replacement, and it'll be fine because Janet's nice. Just. Damn. Real good start to being a "responsible adult".