deutschgeist

Time for what has become my bi-annually livejournal post.  This time I have two tings to report: some good news and some bad news.  The good news is that this will be my last bi-annual post, as I will be making them much more frequently from now on.  The bad news is that I have yet to develop telekinetic powers.  I know this may not seem like a big deal to most of you, but having my dream crushed time and time again has become somewhat disheartening over the years.  Ah well, maybe I should stop wishing for stuff that doesn't exist.

In other news, I'm back into showbusiness, in a manner of speaking.  I'm in the CSUS production of Female Transport, a feelgood romantic comedy that has nothing to do with romance or comedy, about a british women's prison ship bound for australia.  The play itself is exceedingly dark, and should be avoided by children, unless their parents want them to bring questionable ideas about the physical and sexual abuse of women convicts to school the next morning.  The show itself is shaping up nicely, with a capable cast, a massive set, and lots of facial hair for yours truly.  Not my ideal show to kickstart my return to the stage, but I'm not complaining (so long as O'Brien stays on my good side).  I'll catch up to you, Ang, sooner or later!

The final tidbit I wish to pass along is my recent change in occupation.  No longer am I a slave to the corporate beast that is SEARS.  I am now proud to announce that I have upgraded to being a slave of the corporate beast that is Starbucks.  Yes, my faithful Craigolytes, I have sold my soul to the 'Buck.  But compared to the hell that was dealing with old people demanding free tools to replace the ones they bought in 1947 when SEARS actually gave two shits about their customers, now I just have to worry about learning to speak Starbuckese.  If nothing else, I'll get some free caffeine out of the deal.

And so, with a renewed sense that my life isn't headed for a total dead end in which my worldly ambitions and dream will never be realized, I give a hearty "fuck you" to my previous employers, the powers that try to hold me back, and the great zombie-pizzly bear conspiracy.  It's good to be back!

Hi, again.  Nope, not dead.  Not even a zombie.  Not even a republican.  I've just been busy trying to be busy.  For those of you who do not know as of yet, I have now partially sold my soul.  I am employed at SEARS.

It's not the most glamourous of jobs.  It's not spiritually fulfilling, or soul-stirring by any stretch of the imagination.  It's not even something I would enjoy doing a year from now, but it's a source of income until the holiday season is over.  Or at least until I can find a better job that won't make me hate helping people.  Because, make no mistake, I loved helping people before starting at SEARS.  But the thing about working in customer assistance for a huge company is that when shit goes wrong, it's never the company's fault, or the product's fault, or the company that makes that products' fault... it's your fault.  

Add to the fact that SEARS, while having been around since your grandparents started fucking (you're welcome, and try to crank one off to that mental image), they know how to cut corners everywhere.  Sure, on paper in some corporate office, dealing with faulty merchandise and constant returns and repairs may be a negligible loss, but that damn report never mentions the irrate customers who can't understand why product X doesn't fall under warranty because of the company's confounding language in their returns policy (made doubly irritating when the customer can only speak spanish and doesn't want to talk to anyone else but you).

At any rate, I don't know if I'll still be working there after new year's (if I am, they'd better make it worth the aggrivation), or if I'll be someplace else.  At least I can find some comfort in that I'll be able to spend the holidays in the presence of friends and loved ones.  And if any of you feel the urge to come pester me at work, at least have the decency to buy a screwdriver while you're down there so it look like I'm doing my job.

Jebus, it's been a long time since I updated this thing. A lot has happened since then, but I'll try to keep things brief.

I'm currently looking at stage carpender gigs at several regional theatres all over the country, but the one that's really caught my eye is the journeyman program at the Western Stage in Monterey. It's a year contract and they havn't finished casting their season yet, so I may even get some stage time. But right now, I have all the "options" in the world.

The Adventures of Tom Sawyer came and went.  I am personally of the opinion that one should never stage a broadway musical in a black box theatre with a cast of primarily children, but c'est la vie.  Man of La Mancha closes tonight, and, except for the SoHo stuff, that's been the most fun I've had here.  Granted there's been some chemistry problems, but we've sold out nearly every show to standing ovations, so i think we've done pretty well for ourselves.

Well that's the Cliff's Notes version of the past month.  Look for a more substantial post in the days to come.

It's official. Yesterday I was called into Lars' office and informed that I would not be offered a second year internship at Playhouse Merced. No, I wasn't exactly surprised by the fact (especially considering I've been overhearing our Technical Director talking to our General Manager about this guy he knows who "can do anything, and I'm ready to bring him in right now"), but that didn't mean itstung less. Granted my time here has had it's ups and downs, but it was still fun, I've made a lot of friends, and helped rebuild this theatre after the destruction of Hurricane Claude, but I feel sad that I won't be able to see the fruits of my labors next year.

So disappointment aside, now I've got to start thinking about having a paycheck come mid-July, or at least a roof over my head. Thus, "The Great Job Hunt II" begins. I see two immediate options: 1) stay in the area, making ends meet and being active in local theatres (a la Sierra Rep or even at the Playhouse), or 2) leaving the area outright and apply to theatres across the country. After talking to Rob and Susanne, they're putting in a good word or two with some theatres they've played at in the Master Carpender and Stage Manager departments. But there's only so far networking can take me. So, on the bright side, I have a sea of "options" before me.

The thing that bugs me about not being offered a 2nd year, though, is that appearantly hard work, dedication, self-sacrifice, and a burning passion to fulfill your dreams won't get you jack shit in this world. Having that thrown in my face I can handle (barely), but if Joe (y'know, the crippled, double-talking, manipulative slacker) gets a slot here, I may just burn the fucking building down. Seeing yet another person like that being handed what I've slaved a whole year towards... Maybe I really will do something to warrant my mysteriously hideous karma.

Cuddles.

Well it's just about time for SoHo's next show. This time we're doing two absurdist one-acts. The first is Thank You Twenty-Thousand Pound Man.  It's about a little boy who gets catapulted into space when a twenty-thousand pound man sits on his see-saw.  In keeping with absurd theatre's tradition of bizarre metaphorical messages hidden among non-sequitr drama, the boy's parents argue about divorce while a kooky park ranger obsesses over a bag of chips and the little boy waxes rhapsodic about the bounciness of super balls.  Cathartic, is it not?  Second is The Mime Crime, where a police investigate to brutal slaying of a man by a street mime.  A subject near and dear to my heart.  To quote the grieving widow, "Mimes are evil, evil bitches."

So if nobody is doing anything around 7:30 pm on this coming Monday or Tuesday, and will be in the Merced area, stop by and take in the show.  Come for the metaphysics, stay for the booze.

In my copius free time (*snicker*) I have been revelling in my inner nerd at Adventure Quest.  Behold the medievel awsomeness that is Lord Dudeimus, and his ferocious battle penguin! *maniacal laughter* So I'm a nerd, what of it?

No, I am not dead. No, I did not get eateed by a bear. No, I have not fallen off the face of the earth. Just the face of the internet. Work has been non-stop, managing two shows, designing and constructing one all by myself, on top of the regular headaches that go along with my work schedule. And the icing on the cake is that the only computer with internet access I have...um...access to is at the theatre, so I can't really spend as much time doing my stuff as I'd like. But c'est la vie.

Underpants is closing this weekend, Jungle Book is opening next weekend, the touring shows are getting worse (we played in two churches this past week or so), and my bank account is limping like our neighbor's three-legged dog. While some of you may think I'm insane for doing so, I've applied for a second year here at the Playhouse. And I don't care if you think I'm "a tard" for doing so. Fact of the matter is, quality theatre jobs in the area are severely lacking, and I don't have the padded resume nor the financial backing to go very far away or take big chances. If I don't get picked up for a second year, my hand will be forced, but I'd rather take it a little slow for right now. And anyone who has a critisizing or derogatory thing to say about where I am or what I'm doing, all I have to say is this: "So what the fuck are you doing about chasing your dreams?"

Time for another installment of my predictably infrequent posts. First order of business is the post-mordem on "Nothing Serous." All the interns at Playhoiuse Merced (plus Roque) produced our own show this past Monday and Tuesday; a collection of skits by Rich Orloff about theatre, God, and the cycle of life called "Nothing Serious." The turnout Monday was less than what we hoped, but Tuesday's crowd more than made up for it. My parts ranged from a suicidal jumper in a playwriting class to a slovenly Adam (vis a vis the Garden of Eden) to a prospective groom who gets divorced before his wedding to a pretentious actor who spent five years in the National Left-Handed Black Polish women's Theatre ("Everything I learned about acting I learned from the Sutherland Method.). It was a fun show and all, but the real thrill came from doing this show as an inauguration of Southern Hospitality Productions (SoHo for short), the theatre group us interns started up. Yes, I am a founding member of a 0-budget, for-profit theatre. It's like I'm a real actor or somethin'! We've got another show in the works for April or May, maybe a full play with an actual set this time (here's keeping our fingers crossed we can pull off getting the rights for "Reefer Madness")!

The changes at Playhouse Merced continue with the acquisition of a new Artistic Director. We've looked at a few candidates the past couple weeks, and we've seen a Chicago viewpoints mucky-muck, an experimental theatre enthusiast, and an LA actor ('nuff said). But hopefully we're going to snag the fourth, and by-and-far the best, candidate; Lars. Lars is a teacher at the American University at Cairo, Egypt. If this sounds familiar to any of you, it's because he directed Drew this past year. He says he wants a job closer to his family back home, so he has deighned to brighten our doorstep. Lars is intelligent, passionate, and fun to be around (a quality on which he has a monopoly compared to the other candidates). I really hope he takes the position here at the Playhouse, because I think he can really make this place into what it has the potential to be.

And finally: Stress... thy name is Stage Management! Yes friends, I have entered into that elite society of stress-ridden, overworked, caffeine-guzzling techies. I am stage managing the Playhouse Merced production of Steve Martin's "The Underpants." But wait, there's more! I am simultaneously stage managing a children's theatre production of "Jungle Book - the musical." Not bad for a guy who's never SM'ed a damn show in his life, huh? So if I seem short of breath, short of patience, or short of sanity over the next month or so, you'll know why.

Oh yeah, and my knees suck full-time now.

Your results:
You are Uhura

Uhura 80% Geordi LaForge 80% Mr. Scott 75% Jean-Luc Picard 70% Worf 70% An Expendable Character (Redshirt) 70% Chekov 65% Mr. Sulu 55% Data 54% James T. Kirk (Captain) 50% Deanna Troi 50% Leonard McCoy (Bones) 45% Beverly Crusher 40% Will Riker 40% Spock 37%

You are a good communicator with a pleasant soft-spoken voice. Also a talented singer.

Click here to take the Star Trek Personality Quiz

Haven't had a "This Is My Life Thus Far" update in a while, so I figured I'd check in. "Nuncrckers A-Men" went okay. I wished we had the kind of audience we had at closing every night, but that'd be in a perfect world. Speaking of perfect worlds, all our stuff was still where we left it after coming back from Christmas vacation. HUZZAH! My haul was not nearly as impressive as many others', but I'm satisfied. I got BBC Shakespeare with a blackface Anthony Hopkins as Othello and Bob Hoskins as Iago. I have incredible respect for Bob Hoskins because not only is he an incredible actor, but "Who Framed Roger Rabbit?" would have destroyed the career of any lesser man.

New Years I worked the Playhouses' second annual (and probably last) New Years Party. Not many people showed up as we thought, but we were able to break even. We had a live band that was pretty good, but they didn't play all that much. Roque sang the same Frank Sinatra tunes over and over again ("'Cause I looooooooove you..."), and we were treated to truly mediocre Abbot & Costello bits from the Hypes twins (they wouldn't've lasted 10 minutes in Vaudeville). The saving grace of the night was the massive amount of boozahol we had. Three bars, each eight feet long, two shelves apeice, and they were all packed with tequila, Jim Beam, Popov, Smirnov, and more gin than I've ever seen in my life! I was a good boy, though. All I had was one shot of tequila with Leslie (our marketing head), some Johnny Walker Red, and this fruity shot that everyone took together, spread out over six hours. Didn't do much dancing, but the interns and a couple staff members got auctioned off for a dance. I'm worth $5 appearantly. All in all, a fun night. But the real fun is watching the hangovers the following morning.

the Cutting Edge (52% dark, 57% spontaneous, 36% vulgar)

your humor style: CLEAN | SPONTANEOUS | DARK Your humor's mostly innocent and off-the-cuff, but somehow there's something slightly menacing about you. Part of your humor is making people a little uncomfortable, even if the things you say aren't themselves confrontational. You probably have a very dry delivery, or are seriously over-the-top. Your type is the most likely to appreciate a good insult and/or broken bone and/or very very fat person dancing. PEOPLE LIKE YOU: David Letterman - John Belushi The 3-Variable Funny Test! - it rules - If you're interested, try my latest: The Terrorism Test

My test tracked 3 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender: You scored higher than 51% on darkness You scored higher than 81% on spontaneity You scored higher than 46% on vulgarity

Link: The 3 Variable Funny Test written by jason_bateman on Ok Cupid, home of the 32-Type Dating Test

1) We opened "Nuncrackers A-men" tonight at Playhouse Merced. If you've never heard of it, Nuncrackers is part of the mildly popular "Nunsense" theatre franchise, specifically it's a christmas musical with singing nuns. Correction: it's a fluffy, trite christmas musical with singing nuns. What makes it even better is that our version is done as a drag show with guys playing all the nuns (hence the "A-men" addition to the title). Everything about this show is unoriginal. The guy who wrote it merely reworded several of his previous songs, and there's one number that's made up entirely of titles to christmas carols. But the cast is great to play with, and sometimes it doesn't hurt to be a part of mindless fluff.

2) I finally got all my christmas shopping done. I is poor folk this year, so none of my gifts are that expensive. The most I spent was on an afghan for my mother, but I figured if she carried me for 9 months and put up with me for 21 years after that, she deserves a few extra dollars. My parents have been rather generous as of late (recently donating $250 to the Playhouse, against my knowledge and better judgement) so I've stressed that I don't want hardly anything from them this year. I know this may sound crazy to some, but I feel guilty when they spend lots on me because I'd rather they enjoy the fruits of their labors. As for friend gifts; I'm not buying anything for friends, but instead it'll be a made-at-home exchange. *wink wink*

3) Finally, as the title suggests, Merced wants my soul. Don't get me wrong, I'm having a blast here immersing myself into a full-time theatre company (semi-professional and struggling as it is), but there have been several occurances that lead me to believe that this town does indeed desire my sanity, health, or a combination thereof. First off are the robberies. Our house was broken into last month, and again today (I believe it to be the same person from how he went about it). Thankfully nothing has been stolen, but now our garage and back doors have been boarded over, and every lock we have has been engaged. It's starting to feel like I'm living in the goulag.

Next is my exhaustion. I've lost a bit of weight and slendered out these past months (partially from working 12 hours and eating 2 meals a day). Add to that the lack of restful days off for the past 3 weeks and cramming 4 weeks of rehearsal into 2 (see Nuncrackers post above), and my body has about had it. I passed out right after shutting off my alarm this morning, lucky to get to work on time, and the whole morning I was stumbling about, tripping over things. Honestly, if I don't get a day to bomb out and recoup, I'm gonna collapse at an inopportune moment soon.

Finally is the lonely torture. Sure I'm surrounded by great people I work with each day, but I WORK WITH THEM EACH DAY. Granted, none of them have any real family nearby so their only friends are each other and those over the phone. However, I have other friends a half hour's drive north, and family another 30 minutes down the road. But I hardly have time to see them. I'm always working and come home tired as hell each day, but I have to go to bed early knowing that I have friends so close, but they may as well be hundreds of miles away. I just want a day or two to hang out and have fun together. I miss you all.

I must be the only person in my social sphere who wasn't extatic over this movie. As a movie by itself, I liked it. Unfortunately, even if you never read the books, you could tell there were huge chunks missing here and there. I think the whole Dobby/S.P.E.W. subplot would be hilarious on the screen. That and drunk house elves are funny. I hated the cutting of certain scenes, namely the Quiddich World Cup (complete with dancing veela and Krum kicking ass), Hagrid & Madame Maxime's racial arguments, the other inquisition scene from Dumbledore's penseive, and especially the blowup between Dumbledore and Fudge.

I was thuroughly disappointed in Ralph Fiennes' portrayal of Voldemort. The eyes being the wrong color is a minor bone of contention with the director, but the performance is all old Ralfie's. Big V was just too manic, if I could narrow it down to one word. Generally if you're a character with a lot of power, you don't have to talk as loud or move around as much as lesser characters, and Voldemort is "der pimp," thus... The man makes a good Nazi, but the Lord of Darkness escapes him somewhat.

But despite my gripes, I did love the movie. A geek cannot change his spots, nor the nerd his stripe.

Since is seems to be the popular thing, I'm posting what I want for Christmas. The list is short, but distinguished.

1) Food. The intern's second best friend.
2) Sleep. The intern's first best friend.
3) Any of the video games on my personal wishlist (too long to post here).
4) Cash. The intern's third best friend.
5) Free porn. The intern's twenty-sixth's best friend.
6) Time to just hang out with any of my friends away from work.

That old adage has proven to be true this past month. First, my computer refused to work, and when it did decide to work, our house phone line was disconnected. then it refused to work again. My tech acting up: strike one. Next, our house got broken into. Thankfully nothing was stolen... except my pocket wrench, my lousy cell phone, and my precious iPod Mini. I got a new cell out of the deal, but the iPod was a graduation gift that meant more to me than almost any of my other posessions. Having my sense of security virtually shattered: strike two. Then, just as I thought life was done crapping on me, I learned a couple days ago that my grandmother had passed away. My final grandparent dying: strike three.

Yesterday at karaoke, Rob asked how I was enjoying my internship. I all but laughed in his face, but instead I said, "Okay, I guess." Actually, I'm damn tired, I ache all over, and am emotionally exhausted, so I don't think I can take a fourth strike. Hopefuly life is done tormenting me for the moment. Somebody stop the world, I wanna get off!

So my first two weeks of internship have come and gone, and I'm finally starting to feel like one of the gang. First the rest of the interns...

*Christina is the Props Intern. She's come back for her second year as an intern, so she's a good source of information for the likes of latecomers such as moi. Nice enough girl, a bit wacky, and kind of a lush when the party really gets going, but she's nerd enough that we get along really well.
*Noelle is the Marketing Intern. She keeps to herself most of the time, talking to her friends and family back in Maryland on her cell phone most of the time, but she's got a real knack for tech in the shop, so she's cool.
*Abi is the Costume Intern. She's the crazy, wild-child of the group. She's really energetic and enthusiastic, but a bit flighty at times. She mostly hangs out with...
*Joe, the Management Intern. The junior of the Hypes twin brothers, Joe is always up for a party, or any other excuse to drink and meet girls. Kinda quiet most of the time, a bit sluggish in the mornings, and personality-wise the opposite of his brother...
*Rob, the Lighting Intern. Also in his second year, Rob is more upbeat than Joe, but I don't get to see him much outside of work or company functions since he doesn't live in the house, but rather with his girlfriend.

As cliche' as it sounds, each of us seems to fill some kind of "Real World" role in the House. Christina is the boozer with a bad relationship track record. Noelle is the loner who most everyone has a beef with. Joe is the playboy on the search for ass. Abi is the hyper party girl who handles half of the comic relief. Rob is always around in spirit, if not in person. And Roque is the unnofficial 7th intern who can be found with the group 5 times out of 10. As for me, I'm the other half of the comic relief, but also the House-mom/"clean freak" who's a hard worker but accident prone. And so we join our intrepid adventurers as they begin a year of danger, excitement, and lots of alcohol.

Well today was my first day on the job. Yesterday I moved in, and did it all by myself, as everyone else was on a trip to the coast. No biggie, 'cause it gave me time to try and organize all that I brought. Although I was lied to about the room size (I packed for a room half as big), I at least have all the essentials I need (bed, clothes, TV, PS2, manga, Monty Python, etc.). I live with 5 other interns (the 6th is shacking up with his girlfriend, so his twin brother has the master bedroom all to himself) and I'll post on them once I get to know them better, but from what I can tell they're all as crazy and nerded up as me. I got to sit on my ass and watch TV for practically the whole day, and I feel it may be a good while before I can do that again. Everyone has rehearsals for the upcoming shows ("Anne Frank" and "James and the Giant Peach") while I sat alone and ate quesadillas. The day ended on a high note as everyone watched the season premiere of "Nip/Tuck" together.

Today I woke up far earlier than anyone else, thinking the house would be busy in the morning as we two bathrooms and a community kitchen. Oh how wrong I was. I was all ready to go at least half an hour before anyone else was even awake! I have since reset my alarm. The house itself is nice, although the living room and kitchen are a sty. I don't even know what crap is whose, just that none of it is mine. Oh, and there's mouse turds in two of the silverware drawers. Lots of 'em. But they all eat meals out, so the cupboards are crammed with food they never eat. Three cardboard boxen of Rice-A-Roni are sitting on the dining table as we speak. The only food that is consumed in the house as far as I can tell, is cereal, soda, and liquor.

Work itself is kinda what I expected. Being the "tech intern" I spend the majority of my time under the technical director, Mark. He's a funky little man with a grayish ponytail, glasses, and listens to classic rock. He and I loaded his pickup with useless scrap wood while singing "American Pie." All today was spent cleaning. First it was the little ready room/kitchen the interns have at the theatre, then it was moving wood racks and clearing a space for a paint station in the scene shop, and finally stuffing old clothes into trash bags until 9 at night. I'm exhausted, I'm sore, and I love it. I know it'll just get harder from here on out, but I feel like I'm home.

I'll post again about my co-workers later, and hopefully I can see the show this weekend (free tickets rock). Later!

As of tomorrow, I will be a full-time slave to the theatre. I have secured an internship to Playhouse Merced. I'm moving into the intern house tomorrow and signing a year of my life over to the company. The scary part is that I'm the shop intern, and I'll be responsible for building practically all the sets for every show. Those of you who know me know that I'm not a techie at heart, and the prospect of entire shows hinging on my ability to work a radial-arm saw is rather daunting. Especially when it's something you don't have a particular knack for. But I'm up to the challenge. This is gonna be a great year.

sick (sik), adj., -er, -est.  1. afflicted with ill health or disease; ailing

Uuuugh!  Why does it have to be so accurate?  Two weeks ago felt weak, fatigued, dizzy, and anything but fun-happy-jolly-time healthy.  And now Monday I find out I've got strep throat.  Swallowing hurts (shut up, Alan), I still feel tired most of the time, and I can't sleep more that two hours at a time without waking up in a cold sweat.  But I'm not complaining.  I've been reintroduced to the wonders of fruit juice.  It's a beautiful thing.