A Memory of Christmas Past

Christmas is by far my favorite time of the year. I get to wear sweaters, everyone tries to be a little nicer to each other, and I get two weeks off of work. I love singing Christmas carols, and seeing the pretty lights in my neighborhood.

I always looked forward to coming home for Christmas more than any other time of year. It was like driving into a neighborhood that was a little bit cheerier than the last time I saw it, transformed over Thanksgiving weekend. I would usually get home in the early evening and be welcomed by the familiar spreads on the neighbors lawns, then finally by the lights Mom had put on the bushes and in that spikey palm tree out front.

There was one year, 2004, when all of the hurricanes went through Orlando that Mom hadn't decorated when I got home from college. There were no lights on the bushes, our stockings hadn't been hung on the banister. Life got in the way of decorating for Christmas. I spent the first week of that break repainting the dining room and kitchen, and then we decorated. Everything was put up only a few days before Christmas. We contemplated just putting up a few things, but I couldn't stand the thought of having just the tree in the dining room with no little Christmas Village houses and no snowflakes hanging from the loft to keep it company. It was almost as though Christmas couldn't happen unless the house was ready for it.

This year the house has been decorated for a few weeks already. Mom demonstrated a Christmas tea, so she put everything up a little early. This weekend, though, marked one of the first times that we plugged the lights in. Christmas just arrived!

The Christmas Wish List 2008

The house on the next block has officially turned on enough Christmas lights to rival the Griswold's of National Lampoon's fame which means: it's time to publish the annual Christmas Wish List!

• a calendar (retro art nouveau or art deco poster reproductions or non-Ansel Adams black and white photography)
• a new watch (I'm pretty sure this one is already spoken for...)
  
• a new wallet
• The Tales of Beedle the Bard by J.K. Rowling
• Photoshop
• Leatherman Serac S3 Flashlight (because I work in a dark theatre. Also, I like toys.)
  

On Giraffes

I was wandering around on the internet, following some rabbit trail because there was nothing else to do, when I stumbled upon a photograph of giraffes. This brought to memory a conversation I had with a student concerning the theory that giraffes don't actually exist. That's right, they don't exist. This student, who will of course remain nameless, also believes the 9/11 attacks were planned and carried out by agents of the United States government, but I digress. The idea is that they were actually created by someone to fool people, for what purpose and to what end I do not know. "Why would they need such a neck," he/she asks, "and have you ever actually seen one?" "No," I say, "but I've seen pictures." "Ah, but pictures can be altered, so you've never actually seen one." "No," I say," but I know people that have seen them." "They must be in on the plot." The conversation goes on and on until I finally end it with, "Any former respect I had for your intelligence has evaporated under the hot African sun beneath which the noble giraffe roams." Okay, so I didn't say that, but wouldn't it have been funny if I did? I'm sure I said something snarky and condescending, just not quite as intellectual sounding.

The conversation reminded me of my first week of ToK in high school. Is there a dragon in the box? How do you know? From whom did you hear it? Do you trust that source? I wonder if the modern high school (or even some college) student asks themselves these questions when studying or researching. Anyway, I don't know how I got on this topic. School/work and education are not all that I think about. Really, it's not.

On a completely different note (sarcasm), I heard a joke about how teachers can't go for 24 hours without talking about their students. I'm convinced that it's true.

Odd Couple from the Other Side

Odd Couple is now over! I'm extremely proud of my students, and I'm especially happy that I actually got to sit and enjoy the show this year (for the most part), which means I'm nearly to the point where they can run it themselves, without having to consult me at every turn.

Of all the nights, I'd have to say that Thursday and Friday were the best, mostly because the crowd was the most responsive those nights. I was worried at the beginning of the week that they wouldn't be able to pull it off, but on Thursday it all seemed to come together, and they gave sterling performances.

The cast for the Sunday performance experienced one of the things that makes live theatre unique from other dramatic forms: audience responsiveness, or in this case, the lack thereof. When I stepped on stage for the introduction, I felt the lack of energy and excitement in the crowd. The audience hardly laughed for the entire first act, even with the other cast and myself doing our best to seed the laughter. Despite this, the cast persevered and the audience loosened up a little bit in the second act.

All in all, I think the show was a success, but I'm glad that it's over. I spent this entire last week coming home early, well, at the same time as everyone else, and sleeping.

Simple Pleasures

Show week has finally arrived, or more accurately, leapt on me, but instead of focusing on how tired and stressed out I am, I'm sharing a list of little things that made me happy today:

My 2nd Period Drama I class.

The sound masking tape makes when I pull it off the roll really fast.

The smell of freshly cut grass.

The feeling of wind rushing across my shoulders when I stick my elbow out the window on a cool evening.

The song, "En La Muelle de San Blas" ("On the Pier of San Blas").

How my feet feel after I finally sit down after a long day.

The vibrations of the gear shift beneath my hand.

2:15 run time with a 20 minute intermission.

When my cat nuzzles my cheek with his forehead.

Show Week

Pardon the retroactive post publishing. I don't know why I didn't publish this when I wrote it. Maybe I felt it was too short.

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Show week is here. This is the first time that I feel almost ready. Last year, we were still trying to get off book the Monday before the show. But right now, I think well be okay, despite having some hick-ups along the way. We were supposed to have new lavaliere mics, but the order got bogged down in purchasing, so we will most likely not get them in time for the shows. I'm frustrated to say the least. We will get through it. The cast just needs to learn to project. A lot.

We will be ready, whether we're ready or not.

Making the Magic: Flying Plate of Spaghetti

In theatre, we have to do things that would never ever happen in real life, like throwing a plate of spaghetti...sorry, linguini, at a wall four nights in a row (plus rehearsal). The problem is that spaghetti, when thrown, goes everywhere. The noodles don't stay on the plate, and the poor techie on the other end of the flying sauce-er (bad joke, I know) gets a large mess to clean. Compounding the problem is the need for one of the actresses to take a bite of the soon to be flying spaghetti.

The solution to the problem: Elmer's School Glue and tape. You cook the spaghetti first, then put it on a plate, toss with glue and nuke the heck out of it. The resulting pasta is rubbery and sticks together, and most importantly, can be taped to the plate. Spread a little bit of fresh (i.e. not glued and rubbery) spaghetti on top of the glued spaghetti (hurray for non-toxic glue) for the actor to play with, add a little red sauce, and no one is the wiser.

The picture to the right is the spaghetti post nuking, before the extra glue dried. The white stuff is glue. Yum!