Subtlety? What's that? *shakes head* This video speaks out a lot to what's wrong in music these days...

My, but the British do get such fun kids shows...

Lrf, V xabj vg'f n fcrpvny cnebql rcvfbqr bs gur fubj gurl znqr gung gurl arire nverq...

I got an odd compliment today. One of the sound people said that I was "bottom of the board". Basically, the principals (which includes me) are miked. And, except for one song I do at the end, they always keep my sound level one notch away from the bottom because I project enough that I don't need the amplification. ^_^ It was an odd but very nice compliment to be called "bottom of the board". As for the performance itself, it had its ups and downs, but I had fun at it at least. I think there may be trouble brewing in internal relations based on conversations I overheard, but it's like they say, "You can't have theater without drama."

In other news, I found out that Sweeney Todd has been cast, and with me never having been contacted. *sigh* Oh well, life. Apparently their music director has already quit and there's people saying that the show's going to collapse under the weight of its politics, but I still would have loved to had the chance to be part of it. Next time, eh?

Weird dream. As usual, the bits and pieces of it are slowly skittering away, but part of it was set in a sort of Pittsburgh. I remember walking by parts of Pitt, including the Cathedral of Learning (albeit done with a red brick facade and then onto CMU's campus. I stopped by a booth where a hiring company was doing interviews for Navy jobs, except that they were doing it as musical auditions with people singing Broadway songs. They stopped things before I could sing my song, but the guy before me wasn't very good, slightly off-beat and off-key. I think I ran into Bev briefly, but I can't remember much of that. Then, I ran into this guy who'd been working on a variation of the Hippogryph song from Harry Potter. I mentioned that I had a copy of the song at home on my computer in a PDF file, so we headed back. I apologized for the mess, and started to look things up on my computer. Unfortunately, I couldn't find the song by looking in the usual spots or running a Google Desktop search. I also quickly checked my mail and did a regular Google search, but to no avail. Oh, and the guy who'd walked home with me was a girl now. And Eileen, my sister, was visiting, I was taking care of a baby cousin, and there was this other girl who was hanging around because she knew Eileen and her slightly crazy older brother kept showing up. Anyhow, I told the girl who'd been looking for the song that I needed to check on the cousin and headed upstairs (the architecture for heading upstairs was similar to Grandma's house, including the room immediately to the right of the stairs where the baby was being kept. I checked on her (him?) and they were asleep. That's when I realized that there was a presence in the room. I quietly walked back in the darkened room and caught the crazy brother by surprise. He explained to me that he was following me because my grandfather had been some sort of secret agent or assassin. I was the chosen heir, but he had been being trained in my stead because I'd been gone. Oh, and for whatever reason, when I'd snuck up on him, I had his neck clamped between my bare feet as a submission hold. We then watched an episode or two of this new anime which was vaguely surreal and had more bright colors than most Hanna Barbara pieces. The girl who'd been looking for lyrics showed and I apologized for getting sidetracked, and headed down to the basement. While down there, I wound up in a blind staircase (a staircase which ends against the wall or ceiling without any apparent place to go afterwards) and I found myself practicing holding myself up in the corner with my arms while moving my feet around freely. I had a vague feeling that this had to do with ancestral assassin memories. The girl looking for the lyrics showed up again, and I found myself grabbing her neck with my feet this time. I apologized agian, and found that she was cooking sinner, some French dish involving cylindrical objects and wine. Oh, and I realized at that time that I was supposed to be on a date with her (things often "come to be" in my dreams when I try to remember them. I don't know whether they just suddenly start, they always existed in the dream and I'm only just now remembering them, or I'm embroidering the dream as I recall it). We headed to the ground floor where my Mom showed up with others in the family in tow. I explained everyone's presence that I could and was reminded that we were headed off to visit Bev's mother, which had apparently slipped my mind. The girl tagged along (I don't think I had a chance to formally introduce her to Mom but Mom was aware that she was there. While walking up (and it was definitely uphill... must really have been in Pittsburgh), I remember I was talking animatedly with various relatives in the group while the girls with the lyrics was kind of walking alone. We got to Bev's Mom's place (although, at this point, I was in a wheelchair which I'd originally picked up because Eileen had been injured and I wanted it available for her visit. I had to navigate several tricky sidewalk obstacles including a pipe that was 2 feet off of the ground which I solved by wheelying it). It was a bit small initially going into it, but then I remembered that her house was being renovated and next I know, I enter a huge auditorium filled with people. I threaded my way around, looking for Bev's mom and trying to explain to my date who "Big Bev" was. At this time, she asked if Bev, my sister-in-law, was in computers and I told her no, that Bev was studying Opera at CMU. We wound up seating at the far left, close to the front, which was Ok because that's where the podium being used was (which resulted in everyone moving chairs to be closer to us). There was a musical fanfare done by people playing on instruments made out of cast-metal molds of human body parts. At this time, I knew that this was news involving Big Bev's fight with cancer, because she'd always said that she wanted to have improvised instruments for her funeral. I was explaining Big Bev's cancer to my date when I started waking up. I had enough time to apologize to my date for disappearing on her before waking up to find that my right eye had gummed shut (I didn't shower last night after the party and I suspect I still had fragments of makeup from the show) and that I had had a very odd dream indeed.

So, the usual fun, what does it all mean? I can pick out bits and pieces of elements from it. Big Bev really is dealing with cancer, with my brother and his wife, her daughter taking care of her, down in Pittsburgh. Oh, and I now remember running into someone at the party with blonde hair and accidentally calling her Joanna (Joanna is Big Bev's other daughter, actually has long black hair, and last I heard is gallivanting around Europe with her various guys while complaining that Bev doesn't help enough with her mother) before she turned around. Big Bev's house did get some free renovations, but the specific touches I saw had more to do with my grandmother's house's renovations a few years back. The girl with the crazy brother looked like a girl I know from the HP&P theater. The "date" looked vaguely familiar, and might have been modeled after the girl I went to karaoke with a few weeks back. The job/musical audition probably has to do with the fact that I have been auditioning for various shows, and that I've considered looking for another job in Pittsburgh, if for no other reason than that allergies are eating me alive here in Jersey. The guy with the bad audition, I actually suspect it has to do with this one musical line in Pajama Game which never quite goes right because it's such an odd line vocally. What he was singing had the same feel to it and similarly, I was sitting there mouthing the correct rhythm and cringing as he failed to provide it. I think the baby cousin was partly modeled on this one baby brought into Pajama Game rehearsals. And I don't think that Big Bev really has a desire to be sent off with improvised instruments, but it feels like something she would do.

Normally, I'd start psychologically picking this one apart and trying to figure out why I dreamed certain characters and elements of the plot, but I'm still kind of tired and not up to it. It was an odd dream. I will leave it at that.

*sigh* Well, we had a good show. We had a party afterwards. I'm feeling depressed. *wry grin* No fault of the show, or of the cast. I just don't do parties well, and the longer I stay, trying to fit in and failing, the more down I get as I realize I'm not going to fit in. Eh. But I'm a human and I keep persisting. I hurt too... that toe isn't really getting better. There's a bit of flesh that keeps growing over the toenail and then splitting and bleeding. I've been applying antibiotic ointment and keeping it bandaged when I'm not airing it, but it's definitely a bit infected, and the hours that I have to keep my feet in confining shoes are not doing it any good. And compensating for that toe is leading to cramping throughout my foot. Add to it that for some reason my elbow and forearm have been experiencing periodic (really rather infrequent) shooting pains, and I'm not a happy camper, particularly as I don't know why this is happening. Meh, I'll sleep and feel better in the morning. I don't know if I'll be doing Capoeira. We'll see.

You know what I hate most about depressed like this? I feel like I've got nothing I'm really justified in complaining about, so I feel all the worse for feeling down. You know?

Teabag trauma - Injuries sustained in the process of trying to perform your morning ritual to wake up, specifically those injuries caused by the fact that you are not yet awake enough to perform said rituals. The titular example involves accidentally dropping the entire tea bag into boiling water and immediately trying to pluck it out with your bare hands.
Term stolen from "Happy Families: Teabag Trauma" by Dyce.

I am exhausted. I got home around midnight last night from the theater. I talked with Catie a bit, then did my best to sleep. It took me a few iterations of hitting the snooze button and drowsing off before I got up, and even then, I was stumbling through the process. I will be very glad when tech week is over. I literally leave rehearsal, sleep, wake up for work, go to work, then go straight from there to rehearsal again. At least rehearsals are going fairly well. We still have some rough spots, but I think we're just about ready to open the show. Which is good because we open on Friday.

Every once in a while, you mean to make an entry private and instead make it public. You quickly take it down, hoping no one saw it in the brief time it was up, but sometimes you just can't ask because the people you're worried about having seen it are the ones you were talking about and gosh darn it, but it gets awkward. At least, in this case, it was a protected/private mixup so I don't think it gets emailed out, and people will only see it in their subscriptions if they specifically hit the Protected tab. Still, pretty embarrassing and sometimes it can have dire consequences.

I'm running on fumes right now. Between work and tech week, plus my inability to just come home and go to bed or to just wake up and leave for work, I've been getting about five hours of sleep each night. Furthermore, I'm running out of canned soup for my lunches and dinners as of today and by the time I'll be getting out of the theater, the stores will be closed. Why the heck do we have call at 6 when the shows don't even start until 8? I just wind up rattling around for a solid hour before having to get dressed for the show. *sigh* And I still haven't managed to make it to Goodwill to get slippers and better-fitting pants. And with the schedule at work bumping right up against call, I'm not going to get the chance to either.

Ok, first off, I auditioned for Sweeney Todd. I was unable to get a songbook for the show (every single music store in the area had just sold out; I guess there was a run on them with the auditions and all) so I auditioned with Take Me or Leave Me from Rent. I actually muffed the song more than a bit, but the accompanist was messing up too, so that provided cover for me. ^_^ So, anyhow, absolutely no idea how I actually did, but I gave it the old college try. Then came the The Pajama Game dress rehearsal.

It was a mess... Some of it was the usual problems with suddenly adding in costumes and lighting cues, but I also screwed up several of my lines and there are a few changes which just are not going to happen. *sigh* Well, I have to make them happen, but I'll be working on that tomorrow. And learning my lines better. And getting slippers and a new set of grey pants (the set which I bought three weeks ago? I've outgrown them. If all else fails, I can wear them for the show, but they really are too tight. I'll be optimistic and say that I packed on too much muscle through Capoeira) from Goodwill. You know, all in my copious spare time.

Well, I should be sleeping. I just got back from practice a bit ago and I thought I would post an entry quickly to get people up to date.

Oh, and one other oddity. A few days ago, I realized my left big toe felt funny. I found out that part of the toenail had started growing into the skin, so I figured that was why my toe felt funny. And in the process of clipping it, I left a small wound (I had to pull out the part that was embedded in the skin), so when it still felt a bit funny, I left it alone. Now... I actually think the toenail may be broken because I have that funny floaty feeling you get with hangnails and I found that the nail lifts up slightly all along the right side. Oh well, it will heal.

I probably banged it up at Capoeira. I'm slowly getting better there, but there are still a few things I get wrong. I picked up a bruide on my lower back Saturday, trying to do a kip-up from a forward roll. I didn't get my legs under me and I slammed one of the central points of my hips (the part that surrounds the coccyx). I'm still sore and there's that small bruise where the nub of bone pinched my skin between it and the floor. Meh, but I'm alive. I'm still moving. I'm more sore than I'd like... to quote the poet, Garth Brooks, "I'm much too young to feel this damn old."

^_^ Just call me macaco branco! Honestly, I think Mestre Doutor was under pressure to get nicknames for those of us who've tested since the Batizado is coming up. And, since I was wearing my 2004 Year of the Monkey shirt (picked up in Hungary, of all places), he free associated my name. Hey, I could have done much worse. Mestre Corisca, his teacher, had at one point taken to calling me Mr. Karate because of my tendency to lapse into old habits of hard blocks, static kicks, and jamming. I've gotten better.