updates on the last couple posts
Another mini-review, this one more glowing, again from the good people of the City Paper.
The tomato sauce got made and is delicious. Also pesto.
Today at work we had bad doctors, and I discovered that I can effectively take eight-minute naps.
I am lonely. The postdeparture shabboses have been lonely. Weekdays less so, but still.
9.04.2007
9.02.2007
fringe props
Our first review is here: today's Inquirer calls it "a tableau of alive minds over dead matter." It's a hot-and-cold review, with no juicy comments on the script/language (my dept). Still.
Also, a non-review, but long shout-out-blurb, in the City Paper. Noted: production features full nudity, not intended for children. We did have a seven-ish-year-old the first night, with her performing artist parents, and all I could think was, that kid is going to grow up to be an engineer. She seemed to like the show!
As have my many friends who valiantly trekked to north Philly, including out-of-towners from Boston and, gasp, Mt. Airy. (They tend not to leave the Mt. Airy zone-o'-love-'n'-peace.) I'm so proud and pleased with this project.
Saw some other good stuff too--more soon--and I miss ND like crazy. It's been a lonely couple of shabboses without him. I need to seek out co-Jews intentionally if this observance stuff is going to stick. I did have a great conversation about art and g!d with my Catholic ISABELLA coworker Rachel. Shallow but true: most of the great religious insights are to be found in all the great traditions. More surprising: we have the same gripes about our communities, too.
Our first review is here: today's Inquirer calls it "a tableau of alive minds over dead matter." It's a hot-and-cold review, with no juicy comments on the script/language (my dept). Still.
Also, a non-review, but long shout-out-blurb, in the City Paper. Noted: production features full nudity, not intended for children. We did have a seven-ish-year-old the first night, with her performing artist parents, and all I could think was, that kid is going to grow up to be an engineer. She seemed to like the show!
As have my many friends who valiantly trekked to north Philly, including out-of-towners from Boston and, gasp, Mt. Airy. (They tend not to leave the Mt. Airy zone-o'-love-'n'-peace.) I'm so proud and pleased with this project.
Saw some other good stuff too--more soon--and I miss ND like crazy. It's been a lonely couple of shabboses without him. I need to seek out co-Jews intentionally if this observance stuff is going to stick. I did have a great conversation about art and g!d with my Catholic ISABELLA coworker Rachel. Shallow but true: most of the great religious insights are to be found in all the great traditions. More surprising: we have the same gripes about our communities, too.
8.31.2007
little coop apartment on the prairie
Oh, darling roommates. We're working our way towards full kitchen and living room function, which is getting us excited about living together and so forth. Also, apparently, we're writing emails to each other about putting food up for the winter. Domesticity is great.
I know this is a cheapo way to "write" a post, but I am trying to get more stuff up here. Quantity over quality.
AL wrote:
Through the farmstand, if we'd like, we can get 25 pounds of tomatoes for a mere $20, along with instructions for simple ways of preserving the tomatoes, so that we can bring them back to life in winter.
These tomatoes are delicious, but are cheap because they are "seconds" because some imperfection made them not retail-worthy. I don't want to be personally responsible for preserving them, but if I had some help, maybe we should do this?
RG wrote:
If they'll keep until, say, next Thursday, I'd be game..... but that seems like a long time to make 20lb of tomatoes wait around!
NS wrote:
I'd personally rather spend extra house time cleaning a little more, but we do need vegetables...how long do you expect this venture to take?
AL wrote:
Just to clarify, these tomatoes would basically be for the winter. It wouldn't take very long. The easiest thing to do is to roast them, then freeze them. Total working time is like 20 minutes plus time to clear out enough space in the freezer to freeze them in a single layer. So, really, not very long.
OK, right, I could even do this on my own, actually, if people would use the tomatoes in winter and if we could find space in the freezer for these tomatoes. Which is a perfect incentive to clean the fridge and freezer!
NS wrote:
I'm around on Saturday to make pesto and tomato sauce, anyone have good recipes? I'm not too experienced with cooking.
A, when can you get the tomatoes?
RG wrote:
I'm gonna be super busy unpacking and stuff on Saturday, but I do make excellent tomato sauce and would be happy to help you with that, N. I also do a mean creamy (tofu + Parmesan, or I guess nutritional yeast might work ) pesto, if you want that recipe. Regular pesto's easy too, just way more greasy.
Oh, darling roommates. We're working our way towards full kitchen and living room function, which is getting us excited about living together and so forth. Also, apparently, we're writing emails to each other about putting food up for the winter. Domesticity is great.
I know this is a cheapo way to "write" a post, but I am trying to get more stuff up here. Quantity over quality.
AL wrote:
Through the farmstand, if we'd like, we can get 25 pounds of tomatoes for a mere $20, along with instructions for simple ways of preserving the tomatoes, so that we can bring them back to life in winter.
These tomatoes are delicious, but are cheap because they are "seconds" because some imperfection made them not retail-worthy. I don't want to be personally responsible for preserving them, but if I had some help, maybe we should do this?
RG wrote:
If they'll keep until, say, next Thursday, I'd be game..... but that seems like a long time to make 20lb of tomatoes wait around!
NS wrote:
I'd personally rather spend extra house time cleaning a little more, but we do need vegetables...how long do you expect this venture to take?
AL wrote:
Just to clarify, these tomatoes would basically be for the winter. It wouldn't take very long. The easiest thing to do is to roast them, then freeze them. Total working time is like 20 minutes plus time to clear out enough space in the freezer to freeze them in a single layer. So, really, not very long.
OK, right, I could even do this on my own, actually, if people would use the tomatoes in winter and if we could find space in the freezer for these tomatoes. Which is a perfect incentive to clean the fridge and freezer!
NS wrote:
I'm around on Saturday to make pesto and tomato sauce, anyone have good recipes? I'm not too experienced with cooking.
A, when can you get the tomatoes?
RG wrote:
I'm gonna be super busy unpacking and stuff on Saturday, but I do make excellent tomato sauce and would be happy to help you with that, N. I also do a mean creamy (tofu + Parmesan, or I guess nutritional yeast might work ) pesto, if you want that recipe. Regular pesto's easy too, just way more greasy.
AL wrote:
All, sorry, but before we get too excited, I might not be able to get those tomatoes after all. I'll find out later today, I hope.
In terms of pesto, the impetus for buying all the basil for pesto was that we have an obscene number of pignolas to get rid of. So as long as they're involved, all is well.
All, sorry, but before we get too excited, I might not be able to get those tomatoes after all. I'll find out later today, I hope.
In terms of pesto, the impetus for buying all the basil for pesto was that we have an obscene number of pignolas to get rid of. So as long as they're involved, all is well.
7.25.2007
naked rehearsal
The show I'm working on now is set in a morgue and five of six characters are dead. And naked. They're going to have body makeup eventually (surely cold comfort) but for now we're just starting to work on being naked all the time.
Yesterday was the first naked day and we, ladies of the loyal production crew, pitched in to help the gender ratio and the camaraderie. The six actors, the director, and we three "staff" all stood on a circle, faced outwards, stripped, and turned around. Then we all giggled and said hello and shook hands and were polite. Director Dan commented on the absence of uncircumcised cast members (sic). Brief discussion ensued. Then we sang a song together! It was like naked preschool. After a while the staff put on our underwear (hey, it's hot in there) and sat around disinterestedly talking about how women's 'boy-short' underwear always creeps up your butt.
The actors got their team robes and made some naked sculptures. What a great job I have.
The show I'm working on now is set in a morgue and five of six characters are dead. And naked. They're going to have body makeup eventually (surely cold comfort) but for now we're just starting to work on being naked all the time.
Yesterday was the first naked day and we, ladies of the loyal production crew, pitched in to help the gender ratio and the camaraderie. The six actors, the director, and we three "staff" all stood on a circle, faced outwards, stripped, and turned around. Then we all giggled and said hello and shook hands and were polite. Director Dan commented on the absence of uncircumcised cast members (sic). Brief discussion ensued. Then we sang a song together! It was like naked preschool. After a while the staff put on our underwear (hey, it's hot in there) and sat around disinterestedly talking about how women's 'boy-short' underwear always creeps up your butt.
The actors got their team robes and made some naked sculptures. What a great job I have.
7.23.2007
hit the ground running
I returned from the giant Israel debacle on Tuesday morning and after a too-brief nap, went straight to rehearsal.
I'm working on Romeo&Juliet (in Clark Park! August 1-5 at 7pm, be there) and the immense undertaking that is Pig Iron's latest Live Arts Festival offering (Sept 1-16, be there) and the Jewish Dialogue Group deliberation guide and of course the sainted Day Job as simulated patient. And that's just the stuff I get paid to do.
Did I provide these links before? Can't even remember. Photos of Israel upcoming but for the now, get on Facebook and become my "friend" and you'll see some other people's great photos (of me). I miss having noodle-around time with teh internets.
I feel overwhelmed. Physically tired and a bit shaky. I'll to bed, but first say: this too shall pass. I'm going to be circumspect in the fall about how much I try to do. Also, though: I love traveling and miss it. Haven't been anyplace new in a year and a half. Want to live abroad, despite having just moved into a bigger lovelier room in my apartment. Ugh, moving; sigh, new space. Hm.
I returned from the giant Israel debacle on Tuesday morning and after a too-brief nap, went straight to rehearsal.
I'm working on Romeo&Juliet (in Clark Park! August 1-5 at 7pm, be there) and the immense undertaking that is Pig Iron's latest Live Arts Festival offering (Sept 1-16, be there) and the Jewish Dialogue Group deliberation guide and of course the sainted Day Job as simulated patient. And that's just the stuff I get paid to do.
Did I provide these links before? Can't even remember. Photos of Israel upcoming but for the now, get on Facebook and become my "friend" and you'll see some other people's great photos (of me). I miss having noodle-around time with teh internets.
I feel overwhelmed. Physically tired and a bit shaky. I'll to bed, but first say: this too shall pass. I'm going to be circumspect in the fall about how much I try to do. Also, though: I love traveling and miss it. Haven't been anyplace new in a year and a half. Want to live abroad, despite having just moved into a bigger lovelier room in my apartment. Ugh, moving; sigh, new space. Hm.
6.18.2007
praise them in the highest
Pig Iron, that is. Looks like they're hiring me as dramaturg for their Live Arts festival commissioned production: ISABELLA, aka Measure for Measure in a morgue. I will see dead people. Huzzah with a cherry on top.
I've moved my Israel return flight to accommodate the rehearsal schedule. Damn, no time to visit Nablus and the international human rights workers. I've started looking at my SP schedule with misty eyes; jumping into that will wait until September. Or, rather, I'll do my training and work the minimum hours to stay involved.
And we're looking for new roommates, and I saw a good show (The Four of Us, by Itamar Moses), and there are all kinds of meetings and things dashing about. I'm teaching a clown workshop for non-actors, focused on presentation skills, for the next couple of weeks. That's sort of embarrassing because I don't think I'm qualified, but I planned it, and it will be fun. It's hazy hot and humid. I want some ice cream. Need to get some stuff done on the writing project. Ho hum.
On another note: outrage: the Gaza situation. Israeli Foreign Ministry spokesman Mark Regev (always spouting criminally ridiculous lies on BBC in his charming accent) says "it is not our intention to sit idly by during a human rights crisis in Gaza." Of course not, you effing salesman, you don't sit idly by, your government creates and aggravates the human rights crises in Gaza.
Pig Iron, that is. Looks like they're hiring me as dramaturg for their Live Arts festival commissioned production: ISABELLA, aka Measure for Measure in a morgue. I will see dead people. Huzzah with a cherry on top.
I've moved my Israel return flight to accommodate the rehearsal schedule. Damn, no time to visit Nablus and the international human rights workers. I've started looking at my SP schedule with misty eyes; jumping into that will wait until September. Or, rather, I'll do my training and work the minimum hours to stay involved.
And we're looking for new roommates, and I saw a good show (The Four of Us, by Itamar Moses), and there are all kinds of meetings and things dashing about. I'm teaching a clown workshop for non-actors, focused on presentation skills, for the next couple of weeks. That's sort of embarrassing because I don't think I'm qualified, but I planned it, and it will be fun. It's hazy hot and humid. I want some ice cream. Need to get some stuff done on the writing project. Ho hum.
On another note: outrage: the Gaza situation. Israeli Foreign Ministry spokesman Mark Regev (always spouting criminally ridiculous lies on BBC in his charming accent) says "it is not our intention to sit idly by during a human rights crisis in Gaza." Of course not, you effing salesman, you don't sit idly by, your government creates and aggravates the human rights crises in Gaza.
6.14.2007
why blog?
not because I got an interesting new job (standardized patient)
not because I started writing a guide (scroll down) to the Israel-Palestine conflict
not because I saw the last episode of the Sopranos without ever seeing it before
not because I went to Boston and heard crazy news (George is engaged!) or saw wonderful people (happy birthday, Mom, enjoy that extra cheesecake)
not because I went to New York and heard crazy news (oh Louisa!) or saw wonderful people (all yall)
not because we had a great meeting with synagogue folks to theorize prayer
not because of all the random articles online that I bookmark in order to remember to share
...no, I save my writing for petty ludicrous hijinx:
Yesterday I flew from Boston to Philly. I packed a big backpack just about solid with books and clothes from the mothership (Forest Street) and my usual courier with the current book and calendar and water and (gasp) mesh pouch of sundry hygiene items. Nothing over 3oz, 4 tiny bottles total. I get to the TSA gauntlet, and feign naivete when the 7-foot-tall inquisitor guy asks me if I have a Ziploc baggie. In my mind, this should be appropriately copyright-tagged: "Ziploc brand resealable plastic storage bag."
I have no baggie. He says I can dump my stuff (perfume! no.) or go out to the newsstand, where they sell "Ziploc baggies" for 35 cents. I note the lack of people in line, exit the TSA danger zone, buy my baggie. My mother laughs at me. I reload, stowing the hazardous teeny-Tom's-of-Maine in a few microns of crisp plastic, sealing up those menacing eyedrops, and hustle through the gauntlet. Mr Inquisitor ignores me, now "wanding" a hapless teenage droneboy with a suitcaseful of trashy Tom Clancys and nondescript garb.
Sparing you the details of a plane-hop (though it must be asked, what makes these pretzels 'gourmet'?) and train-slog homewards, I arrive at my front porch in West Philly, fumble archetypically with my keys, and realize:
On the keychain is my 2" folding pocketknife, slim, classy, and razor-sharp. That little beauty went through a scanner twice without notice, and, as Laurel commented, "could definitely kill someone."
not because I got an interesting new job (standardized patient)
not because I started writing a guide (scroll down) to the Israel-Palestine conflict
not because I saw the last episode of the Sopranos without ever seeing it before
not because I went to Boston and heard crazy news (George is engaged!) or saw wonderful people (happy birthday, Mom, enjoy that extra cheesecake)
not because I went to New York and heard crazy news (oh Louisa!) or saw wonderful people (all yall)
not because we had a great meeting with synagogue folks to theorize prayer
not because of all the random articles online that I bookmark in order to remember to share
...no, I save my writing for petty ludicrous hijinx:
Yesterday I flew from Boston to Philly. I packed a big backpack just about solid with books and clothes from the mothership (Forest Street) and my usual courier with the current book and calendar and water and (gasp) mesh pouch of sundry hygiene items. Nothing over 3oz, 4 tiny bottles total. I get to the TSA gauntlet, and feign naivete when the 7-foot-tall inquisitor guy asks me if I have a Ziploc baggie. In my mind, this should be appropriately copyright-tagged: "Ziploc brand resealable plastic storage bag."
I have no baggie. He says I can dump my stuff (perfume! no.) or go out to the newsstand, where they sell "Ziploc baggies" for 35 cents. I note the lack of people in line, exit the TSA danger zone, buy my baggie. My mother laughs at me. I reload, stowing the hazardous teeny-Tom's-of-Maine in a few microns of crisp plastic, sealing up those menacing eyedrops, and hustle through the gauntlet. Mr Inquisitor ignores me, now "wanding" a hapless teenage droneboy with a suitcaseful of trashy Tom Clancys and nondescript garb.
Sparing you the details of a plane-hop (though it must be asked, what makes these pretzels 'gourmet'?) and train-slog homewards, I arrive at my front porch in West Philly, fumble archetypically with my keys, and realize:
On the keychain is my 2" folding pocketknife, slim, classy, and razor-sharp. That little beauty went through a scanner twice without notice, and, as Laurel commented, "could definitely kill someone."
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