Wednesday, November 29, 2006


So, I'm sickish.

Yes, in the middle of Chicago's run, I'm sickish. It started with those tickling, rasping hints of impending laryngitis last week. This time of year is bad for allergies, but I managed to stave off any outright voice loss through the weekend. Then it came. That nasty "Is is allergies or is it a cold now?" feeling that has left me with wretched sinus pressure, the awful voice, and the inability to keep hydrated. I've been sleeping excessively, whenever possible, to try and get it over and done with. I'm hoping I can be reasonably together for the show tomorrow, though I'm a little worried about blowing out my voice before I finish the weekend.

In other news, I've officially accepted the role of Riff-Raff in The Rocky Horror Show. It should be fun, in a loose and freewheeling way. The director wants it to have a ... well ... loose and freewheeling feel to it, keeping it as spontaneous as possible, so the rehearsal period should be interesting. I'm used to audience involvement and heckling from the dinner theatre (where it's part of the show), but it will be interesting to see how it goes when it's on a the Rocky Horror level. ("Bo-o-o-o-ring! Bo-o-o-ring!")

So that's the brief update.

Have a nice day.

Wednesday, November 22, 2006

A Bridge I May Not Be Able to Negotiate

So, a friend of mine sent a link to the trailer for Bridge to Terabithia, the movie slated for release next year.

Now here's what you need to know, should you not know it already.

Bridge to Terabithia tops my list of all-time favourite books. Yes, it's a wonderful book. Yes, it deservedly won the Newbery Medal in 1978. More importantly, though, it was the book that changed the way I looked at books forever when I first read it as a kid. It was the book that made me realize the power of books. It was the first to make me think, "Oh my. A book can actually affect me. It can be more than a pleasant diversion." I've read it a multitude of times since then and I still love it with each reading. Katherine Paterson is a queen among authors, who refuses to talk down to her audience simply because they're young. (For more on Katherine Paterson, with whom I would love to sit down and enjoy a cup of tea, visit her site here.)

So I clicked on the link and watched the preview.

Oh dear. The preview makes it look like The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe or Lord of the Rings or something. It focuses entirely on the fantasy of Terabithia that Jesse and Leslie create in their imaginations (bringing it, quite possibly, much too literally to life rather than allowing for the simplicity of the fantasy the characters share in the book) and completely sweeps under the rug the fact that it's not a fantasy adventure story at all. It's realistic fiction for kids.

Now I'm not trying to dismiss the movie out-of-hand. I'm hoping it's a (horrible) marketing ploy (though I suspect it would just lead to people being unfairly disappointed if they go in expecting the fantasy adventure fare) and that the movie is a wonderously faithful adaptation of a modern classic. I'd love to hear Katherine Paterson's thoughts on it.

After all, I'm still a bit reeling from the issues I had with Tuck Everlasting a few years back.

Tuesday, November 21, 2006

Consider Me Chastised

I knew it was going to happen. Sooner or later, I knew someone would give me a stern talking to about my lack of posting, and tonight it happened. So here I am. (If you're reading this, there's about a one-in-four chance that you were the one who chewed me out -- very summarily and with minimal malice, I should say -- so I hope you're happy.)

Suffice it to say, by way of self-defense, that I didn't want to be one of those people whom Keltie abhors who says, "I'm tired so here's my post saying just that."

The show opened this weekend and so far audiences are enjoying it, as far as I can tell. Tech week was a bit ... um ... rough at times, but we've managed to get it together. I have to say that the band for the show, who perform onstage atop a platform, are pretty much rockingly good. It was so great to have our first full-orchestra rehearsal just over a week ago and to feel the whole energy of the musical numbers jump up a notch or ten.

I'm also up to my eyeballs in paperwork and with deadlines looming quickly, the level of exhaustion is running a little high. (Hence be being tired.) It'll all get done because it must get done, but there's a further complicating matter.

Yes. Here it comes. The icing on the proverbial cake.

My parents are coming for a visit this weekend.

Don't get me wrong, I love my parents dearly. Really. I lucked out in the supportive parental front. But the catch is that, in the midst of being in a show and having enough paperwork to plug the hole in the ozone later, my parents are coming to visit. At my house. My house where I've been working madly for months now, always having some project or other on the go. I'm not exactly unpacked. Or well-organized. Right now, there's paperwork spread across the floor and coffee table in front of me. The office upstairs (I've moved onto the more-comfortable couch area for the past two days) is frightfully messy and has never been properly organized yet. I've only unpacked things as I've needed them, so the place still looks like I'm moving in... Yes, I've had to start the clean-up in honour of my parents' arrival. It's just rough timing for such things.

Of course, I could have a whole crew of disaster-relief workers come in and work around the clock until my parents arrive and they'd still say, "That's okay. We understand you haven't had time to clean."

Oh well. It'll be nice to see them. Plus, my dad's going to tune my piano, so that's a bonus.

Finally, before I sign off and mosey along, I've been offered the part of
Riff-Raff in The Rocky Horror Show, going up in February. I haven't officially said yes yet, but I reckon I will. It'd be fun, I am sure. It's a short rehearsal period and a brief run (though I'm a little concerned about doing two shows a night...) so it should be a mad dash of a project. It'll be performed in a tiny little theatre down here so it'll all be garters and fishnets right in your face. I'm not sure I'll invite my parents to this one...

Anyhoo, I'm off. Hope you're all well and that I'm well-forgiven.

(Edited to add: Okay, when I published this, it suddenly had all sorts of weird spacing issues from out of the blue. I've tried to fix them. If any slipped through, know I'm sorry and move on.)

Tuesday, November 14, 2006

Stop-Gap Measures

I know, I know. It's been ages since I posted. I'm not gettin' paid here.

Basically, I've just been a bit exhausted and didn't particularly want to fill page after page (okay, one long page, really) with entry after entry which basically said the same thing.

With Chicago opening in two days, we're in that awful crunch where every hour brings another, "Wait a minute..." moment. You know, "Wait a minute; what am I supposed to be wearing here?" and "Wait a minute; what happened to the space on stage?" and "Wait a minute; who thought this would fit me?" and "Wait a minute; where are my props?" and "Wait a minute, I'm trying to get onstage, but I feel like a salmon swimming upstream against a current of people making their exits."

Oh well. It'll all be ready for Thursday, because it must.

In any case, I'm dying of thirst so I'm off for a drink and then it's time to pack it in. After all, these early morning - to - late night days aren't going anywhere soon ...

But on Saturday, I'm sleepin' in.

Wednesday, November 08, 2006


I was almost finished writing a lengthy diatribe on my ridiculously obstacle-prone drive home from work today when suddenly it disappeared from my screen.

It vanished just as I started to write the "perspective piece" about how it's just a petty problem in comparison with many.

Then, as I mentioned, it vanished without explanation or even saying goodbye.

I'm way too ugged to rewrite it.

I'm going to bed.

Monday, November 06, 2006

Brief News Brief

I'm tired.


Sunday, November 05, 2006

Getting With the Program

With deadlines looming, I spent ... well ... pretty much all day working on the program for Chicago. I managed to wade through the most time-consuming part: finalizing the layout and editing the bios for cast, director, and the like. Yeesh. There's still a fair amount to do, of course, but the most demanding parts are behind me. Now it's just nit-picky formatting of a few other things. It's all due the middle of the week, so it will get done. It must get done.

In much more exciting news, I took a break from the aforementioned work to meet up with my friend, Stacey, whom I haven't seen since we took a course together two summers ago. We met at the Sahla Thai restaurant downtown and had a smashingly good meal (I enjoyed Soup #2, whose real name I cannot remember, and the amazing Paradise Beef) and a wonderfully enjoyable catch-up chat. We apparently lingered a bit too long, though, because the waitress eventually came up and said, "I'm really sorry to rush you, but we have reservations..." Still, a good time was had by all.

Thursday, November 02, 2006

A Promise is a Promise

Keltie would be highly disappointed if I didn't post this link to an article about a new snacking wonder, deep fried Coke.

A Moment's Respite

I'm up to my eyeballs in work (and you thought your home was messy!) but having accomplished a fair amount already, I thought it would be an opportune moment to take a short break to update this blasted weblog thing. Having no rehearsal tonight has also given me a moment to pause, catch up, and hopefully do some laundry.

Since Keltie mentioned her odd dreams over in ShinyHappy, I thought I'd share a pair of my nocturnal meanderings.

The other day I had one of those "in a public place and wearing no pants" dreams. I awoke in the middle of the night and, in a state of semi-consciousness, put on a pair of pants and went back to sleep. I awoke, roastingly hot, in the morning and recalled my curious behaviour of the night.

The strange thing was that, when I had awakened from my dream, I knew that it had been a dream, but in my stupor I guess I sort of thought, "Well, I might as well nip that in the bud and put on some pants so that it doesn't really happen in the morning."

Then last night I had another odd dream in which I was locking up at work and, suddenly realizing that I'd left something inside, I opened the door again but (as happens in dreams) for some reason couldn't get to the little keypad to punch in the code. The alarm signal went out and I got a call from a police officer asking what was going on. A rather rude police officer. One who should not be dealing with the public, particularly over the phone.

In any case, as I'm explaining who I am and that I am supposed to be in the building, a little girl appears beside me. It was one of those "I know who you are in the context of the dream, but in real life I would be thinking HUH?" scenarios.

To make a long (and not too interesting) story short, I have to do a tour around the building, because something keeps preventing the "Green Light" that says you can set the alarm again from turning on. In the end, I find some strange man (who turned out to be the mysterious girl's father on the run from the law -- very dramatic, I know) hiding out in a little nook (which does not exist in real life) of the bathroom (which does exist). I'm not sure if the cop who came was meant to be the same one that I spoke to on the phone. If so, he was significantly less abrasive.

Alarms, mysterious little girls, criminals on the run, cops, and my workplace. I'm sure there's a neurotic disorder somewhere buried in there.

In unrelated news, I recently watched Flowers in the Attic, thanks to a burst of nostalgia. A good 20 years ago, my friend Heather would make me watch it with alarming frequence, so I thought I'd give it a view. Wow. It's not very good, is it? It's not the worst thing I've seen, or anything, it's just a typical 80s gothic suspense yarn aimed at teens. It's got it all! A big old mansion. Religious fanatics. Little blonde children (played by a pair of not-too-wonderful child actors). And, most importantly, the little haunting melody sung by a disembodied soprano voice now and then. Ahhh! Memories. Oh, and it also has one of the worst wigs ever to grace the screen. Good times.

Now, back to work for me!