WesternActor's Friends
[Most Recent Entries]
[Calendar View]
[Friends View]
Below are the most recent 25 friends' journal entries.
[ << Previous 25 ]
| Wednesday, November 11th, 2009 |
divarobbie
|
12:04a |
|
| Tuesday, November 10th, 2009 |
mprmike
|
3:32p |
More of the Same
We're at the stage of the game where I just want to curl up and die. Or nap. One of those things. La Cenerentola's hell week is just about over. We have our first of two invited dress rehearsals tonight (the second is on Thursday). Tomorrow is a day off, because the union stagehands would've gotten time and a half for working on Veterans Day. It's a little annoying, because normally we would've had a day off before doing the first invited dress. But Thursday's rehearsal is a morning one (11:30 curtain, which puts me at the theater at 10:00), which is always really hard to do when you've performed the night before. So while I'd love to have the night off today, in the end it's probably better to have it tomorrow. Sadly, I'm also at the stage where I'm really boring because I've been living nothing but opera and work for some time now. And work is even more boring (I don't have much to do this week, but on the plus side I've gotten some really high scores in Bejeweled Blitz). Tonight's rehearsal will be in front of a relatively small number of friends and family (probably no more than 100 total), and 600 students (8th - 12th grade, I believe). Opera and students... you never know what you're going to get. Most of the time they're very well behaved, but they're not always that into it. I think the combination of comedy + familiar story (with some different elements) ought to keep them engaged. We'll see. Thursday's rehearsal is for 800 students, by the way. That's a lot of area kids seeing opera... Tomorrow I shall endeavor to have something on my brain beyond opera and my job. I PROMISE NOTHING.  |
thepopa
|
1:40p |
The Circle
Listening to Bon Jovi's new record. Solid stuff. That is all. |
divarobbie
|
12:03a |
|
| Monday, November 9th, 2009 |
mprmike
|
2:54p |
I sure do love the photo posts!
This will probably be the last of these because they've been so popular I don't have a whole lot more to share. But yesterday we did hair and makeup for the first time, and they're kind of awesome. First, some noble-people:  Oh hey, nice wig, Mike. What's that you say? It's not a wig? No, it is my own hair post-curling iron and plenty of hairspray. Let's take a closer look, shall we?  Stylin'! [This is why I've been I've been growing my hair out since Tommy closed.] But what about when you're a servant? Do you still sport that fabulous head of hair? No, when I'm a servant I'm fancy.  Shiny! So in conclusion, we all look kind of awesome. And if you're in the area and were thinking "hey, maybe I might like to see an opera, and this Cinderella one sounds like fun, but they sure are expensive;" ask me how you can get $25 tickets. I might have to do one more photo post if I can find a moment to get the two step-sisters together. Because they look AMAZING. So over-the-top. |
mprmike
|
9:18a |
FAIL
The fall of the Berlin Wall was 20 years ago today, not yesterday. Oh well, it gave me something to write about, if rather hastily. (And this does not count as today's entry.) |
divarobbie
|
12:03a |
|
| Sunday, November 8th, 2009 |
okb
|
7:59p |
Dream of the Week --- 2009/11/07
I remember bits and pieces, but not how or whether they fit together. In one part I was hanging out with Irene. Then I seemed to be in her neighborhood, but with a different chyk. We went outside and saw some horses in a nearby yard. They came toward us threateningly, and we gradually realized we had been doused with some sort of scent that attracted and angered them. We got in a car and fled. This seemed connected to a third-person part about a sly, evil rich man who was trying to get his hands on some artifact owned by a group of people. He seemed to make a fair deal with them, but then, at a celebratory party, he plied them with liquor while his henchmen did some underhanded reneging on the deal. There was also a part where I was with Irene and we were walking through a maze of narrow hallways whose walls were almost entirely covered with doors. We had an appointment of some kind (or rather, we each had a separate appointment) at a certain room. The rooms were all numbered, and there seemed to be a general regularity to the numbering, but there were many small deviations and rooms numbered out of sequence. We finally found the room number we were looking for, but it labelled only a sub-hallway with more doors. We wandered around this area for a bit, trying to figure out which room to enter. At one point we ran into a guy who had activated some sort of secret passage that slid aside some walls and revealed an elevator. There was another part where I was walking around the neighborhood near the Castillo Street house (where I lived until I was about 8). A bunch of kids were playing in the street. I was walking home, but I instinctively turned down Pedregosa Street to head toward the Castillo Street house rather than my real, current house. When I noticed that I'd done this, I had a feeling of being transported back to my childhood, when I'd lived in that house. I felt that seeing the kids playing had pushed my mind back to when I was a kid. I was filled with vague but powerful sensations of memory and nostalgia. |
mprmike
|
1:05p |
Sorry
I have nothing to say. It's been a long weekend of rehearsals (and there's one more tonight, not to mention tomorrow, Tuesday, and Thursday before we open on Saturday). I'm tired. I'm catching up on recorded TV and laundry. And I'm just a little bit brain dead. That's truly all I've got for the time being. EDIT: I totally remembered what I was going to write about today. Of course now I have to leave for rehearsal in about ten minutes, so we'll see how much I can get done. Anyway, 20 years ago today the Berlin wall came down. I was on a choir tour, and we were in New Orleans. We were staying in the dorms of a school down there. A group of us were just coming back from dinner when someone yelled out from his room "THE BERLIN WALL IS COMING DOWN!" I thought it was a joke. I don't think people who are younger can possibly remember what it was like to grow up with the full force of the cold war (and I'm not that old, but still, these are the things we talked about in school all the time). The wall was a symbol of that, and it didn't seem like it was something that was ever going to go away. I watched in disbelief as people stood on top of it and hammered at it and gradually made a whole section of it fall down. It was the most amazing thing I had seen in my life up to that point. It's still pretty darn amazing. I'm sure I had something a little more eloquent to say at one time, but I've been wearing pajamas all afternoon and I have to put on some clothes and get out the door. |
maga_dogg
|
2:33p |
flip out and kill people
Before there were cocktails, the cool tipple for the American colonial to throw back was flip, of which I have spoken before. But I hadn't tried it myself, didn't know first-hand anybody who had, and could only dredge up a scant handful of brief modern testimonies online. Notwithstanding that these universally held flip to be the foulest beverage they had ever consumed (a view also quite widely held by contemporary visitors to the colonies), I felt that the frontiers of historical research deserved my personal attentions. ( and to think they LAUGHED at me! LAUGHED! ) |
divarobbie
|
12:02a |
|
| Saturday, November 7th, 2009 |
thepopa
|
9:03p |
|
off_coloratura
|
5:03p |
Everything I Know About Running, by Off-Coloratura
I've been running now for more than a month, so I want to round up all the useful tips and information I've learned about it, both for my own reference, and to help out others who might be interested in starting. GearI got fitted for a pair of comfy running shoes at a place where they film you on a treadmill to see what your run looks like, for instance whether your ankles bend in or out, and then recommend a sole that will help with that. My foot rolls toward the inside (over-pronating) and so the saleslady brought me three pairs of shoes to try, and I picked the one that fit the best - the only one that was actually my foot size, 10.5 narrow. They are Saucony ProGrid Omni 8 sneakers that fit snug in the heel and arch and give plenty of toe room, and they are the comfiest shoes I own. I bought two different kinds of socks to see which I liked more, and I ended up really liking Smartwool PhD minisocks. Snug, cushy, they wick sweat away and they don't make me blister. I found them for cheap on that link and stocked up. I use an iPod Nano with a Nike+iPod receiver and sensor, held onto my shoelaces with this case, to listen to tunes and measure my runs. I use the Xtreme Mac Sportwrap for iPhone to hold it. It holds it nice and snug with plenty of room for the receiver, and it will also hold my iPhone if I ever want to use that instead. The band is comfy neoprene and fastens with velcro. The only thing I don't like about it is that the window's a bit too thick to operate the touch wheel, though, so if I need to adjust the volume or scroll through menus, I need to stick my finger inside it. So I take my shoes and socks, some bike shorts, a sports bra and a t-shirt, my ipod (with receiver) and armband with me anywhere I travel, and I'm ready to go out the door and start running. I go slow.The main, number one reason I always hated running in the past and never thought I could do it was because I was trying to do it WAY too hard and fast. The first day I took it slow was the first day I ran a whole mile without stopping or feeling like I was going to die. And we're talking slow here, I probably could have speedwalked faster. If I felt like I was getting winded or starting to gasp, I'd slow down even more. For longer runs I pace myself; I picture the beginning as the warmup and tell myself I have all the time in the world to get there. I have (very slowly) worked my way up to a thirteen-minute mile this way, without even trying to speed up. I have a plan, and things to shoot for.I do better with structure, and I'm more motivated when I'm shooting for something specific, so after my second day of running I signed up for a 5K. Now that that's coming up and it looks like I'll be able to do it, I have a 10K in Australia to shoot for next July. I follow this Hal Higden training program, which keeps me going out and running. I'm also curious about what I'm able to accomplish - I never expected I'd be a runner, and it continually amazes me when I add another quarter mile onto the distance I'm able to run. Music helps.I have a large playlist of songs that make me want to move, and play them on shuffle. I never know what's coming, which adds to the interest, and they're all songs I love, so I feel like I'm indulging myself when I run. The songs that most consistently make me feel like running are uptempo songs by the Wise Guys or Billy Joel, or 80's electronic pop. Don't forget your second wind.The first mile usually feels pretty good. Blood's pumping, you're tearing along. Somewhere between the first and second mile it starts to suck, to varying degrees. When this happens, I slow down and will myself to keep going through it. I focus on the music I'm listening to, and let it carry me along. I focus on moving my legs from my hips, I try to straighten up and have good posture, I try to breathe well. I hit mile 2 and suddenly all is right with the world again. Yay second wind! I try not to look.Even though I've got my iPod keeping track of how far and how long I've been running, I try not to look at it at all if I can help it. I'll plot out how far I want to go on MapMyRun or WalkJogRun, and once I get out there I just try to run the course. When I get towards the end I have to bargain with myself to keep going. I'll find a landmark to shoot for ("just get to that tree, now just to that corner," etc.) I'll slow down. I'll focus on the music. But I'll listen to myself and do what it takes to keep running to the end of my course, no matter how long it takes. If I'm constantly checking the time/distance and being discouraged, I'll be much more inclined to give up before the time's up. Running in heat sucks.Below 70 F is where it's at. Shade, breeze, and running at dusk or at night are good. Heat not only makes you sweat more, it makes it harder to run as far or fast as you can in cooler temperatures. If you have any useful facts you'd like to share, please do! |
thepopa
|
4:48p |
The Men Who Stare At Goats
"The Men Who Stare At Goats" plays at a sort of standard-issue liberalism that's fairly common in movies these days -- but it's payoff seems to roll everything over on itself to the point that if the filmmakers intended to make their usual left-wing puff piece, they screwed up royally but if they intended to set up something seemingly obvious and then pull the rug out from underneath it, they did something commendable. As I'm not sure what they've accomplished, if anything, that's probably a sign that movie got lost somewhere along the way, even if much of it highly entertaining, if nothing else. Ewan McGregor plays a journalist who goes to the Middle East mostly as part of a mid-life crisis brought on by his wife leaving him. As much as he tells her he's gone to war, he's mostly just sitting around a hotel in Kuwait, wishing he could get into Iraq so he could swap war stories with the other journalists. But at that hotel he encounters a former 'jedi warrior,' a psychic soldier trained by the US military after Viet Nam, meant to defeat the commies through peace, love and understanding. McGregor's character had previously interviewed one of Clooney's compadres and that revelation sets in motion Clooney taking McGregor into Iraq as part of a secret mission. Here is Clooney again doing what he does best these days -- embracing a preposterous character with complete sincerity. While he may bring more of a twinkle to his characters when he's working with the Coen Brothers, in this movie, his complete committment to what his character believes he was trained to do is what makes it work. Even though the story claims to be based on fact, the story is ludicrous and if Clooney let us in on that, the whole thing would fall apart. And it almost falls apart anyway. The movie flashes between Clooney and McGregor's adventure in the present day Iraq and Clooney's training back in the day, under the tutelage of Jeff Bridges' Bill Django, a character that might as well be Bridges's Dude character from "The Big Lebowski." Here's the thing: whether or not Clooney and Bridges's characters are actually psychic isn't really the point. The point is they BELIEVE they're actually psychic and, in its own way, that gives them the one power they need: the power to persuade. Strapped to McGregor's character who's looking for anything to believe in, the antics and training of the US Psi-forces seems suddenly plausible. So as a story about a character looking for belief, "The Men Who Stare At Goats" tells an interesting story. If it's about the power of Bridges and Clooney to alter minds simply because they have the confidence of their beliefs they can, that's interesting. But as anti-war stuff? Eh, it doesn't especially work. Kevin Spacey shows up at his absolute smarmiest, playing a wanna-be Jedi warrior who in time finds ways to convert Bridges's mojo into something more effective for modern day war, namely torture techniques. By the movie's end, he's embraced the underlying insincerity of what he believed, and as a final act of rebellion seems to show Clooney and Bridges embracing the same, that McGregor ends up believing in them and all of it anyway takes the pointedness off whatever bold point the movie may have wanted to make. But if it didn't want to make a point anyway, other than that ludicrous people can convinve desperate people that anything is possible, then the movie's solid. If they wanted us to fall for it too, well, that probably didn't go as well as they'd hoped. |
mprmike
|
10:44a |
The Prince is Having a Ball
I woke up with a slightly sore throat. This is not a good thing. I took some Airborne, so hopefully the magical "invented by a teacher!" substance will do its thing and help my immune system ward off any nastiness. Yesterday was exhausting (sitzprobe from 1:00 - 4:00, a nice break, then piano tech from 6:30 - 10:30). I actually went home at the break time to get caught up on work email and snoozed on the couch for about 15 minutes. Problem is, I was only going to close my eyes for five minutes, so I was a little late to the evening rehearsal. Thankfully, that 6:30 call is just for wardrobe and the run didn't start until 7:00. I was in costume in plenty of time to start the run. Today it's more of the same, except it's two piano tech run-throughs: one at 2:00 and one at 7:00 (with half-hour calls beforehand). We need to finish teching the show today because tomorrow we have orchestra with us so we won't be able to stop to focus lights. And finally, a little more period frippery. This is my nobleman costume, all decked out for the ball. For the scenes that take place in the palace, I'm a servant. But there's one scene that's technically at the ball, but in the palace gardens. Cinderella has left the ball and Ramiro (the prince) is vowing to find her. The chorus men are there as back-up, to say that we'll help in the search. These should be Ramiro's peers - it doesn't make any sense to have servants there. So for that one scene I get to pretend I'm a guest at the ball instead of working it. (click image for a larger version)  Pay no attention to the guy in the background. :-) |
divarobbie
|
12:02a |
|
| Friday, November 6th, 2009 |
off_coloratura
|
6:09p |
Happy scent
I just wanted to say quickly that the Winter candle being sold at Bath and Body Works is the nicest thing I've smelled in a long, long time. It's a mix of pine, bay leaf, cinnamon and wood, and it smells, simply, subtly and without an ounce of cloying artificiality, like Christmas. Mmm. |
mprmike
|
11:47a |
Hit and Run
This may have to suffice for posting today. I leave for the theater in about 45 minutes and I don't expect to get back home until 11:00. So for the time being, I give you a first look at La Cenerentola costumes. This is my servant outfit (I'm a servant for about half the show), which explains why I look like the other guys. I also have a nobleman outfit that doesn't match anyone else, and is pretty darn cool. No photos of that one yet (I'm bringing my camera to rehearsal today).  |
thepopa
|
12:14p |
A Beginning
Not sure what this is or what it might become but it sort of rolled out of my head this morning after last night's sleep. ( Something or other ) |
maga_dogg
|
4:00p |
|
| Thursday, November 5th, 2009 |
maga_dogg
|
8:05p |
|
maga_dogg
|
7:45p |
|
mprmike
|
11:31a |
The Play That Changed My Life
Later this month, Applause Books is publishing The Play That Changed My Life, in which The American Theatre Wing asked several playwrights to discuss the play that got them interested in theater. It sounds fascinating, and I look forward to reading it. And of course it got me thinking - what got me so interested in theater? What did I see that turned on this obsession? The weird thing? I don't really know. Like a bajillion theater fans (especially performers) around my age, the first professional production I ever saw was Annie (in my case, the tour, on a field trip with my sixth grade class). And I definitely remember being kind of awestruck that aside from the fact that they were all girls, those were kids just like me on that stage. Why do they get to be in a show when I have to go to school? But by that time I was already performing, albeit in somewhat rinky-dink children's choir musicals at my church. My parents put my sister and me in choir in first grade, and I loved it. And I remember the director saying something about tryouts for parts in the Christmas program. I don't know why, but I really wanted to do it. If memory serves, I ended up being around the manger in a cardboard donkey mask. Why I thought that was cool is a total mystery. Certainly over the years I've had various shows that have moved me and/or sparked minor (and maybe not-so-minor) obsessions. But I can't point to any one event that made me say "wow, this is what I want to do." I wish I could. |
maga_dogg
|
6:23p |
innternationalist
I am sipping on my second mediocre craft beer of the evening, a Wood's Shropshire Lass (the previous one was a Salopian Brewery Darwin's Origin). Mediocre craft beers are different in the UK. In the US, craft beers tend towards excess and novelty; massive overhopping, wacky ingredients, a tendency towards excessive sugar. British beers work with a smaller palette, rarely straying away from bitter, mild and the occasional porter or stout. This is probably because a) America is a melting-pot and can therefore choose more freely between different brewing traditions, and b) American craft brewing was murdered by Prohibition, so its current renaissance doesn't have to deal with a continuous tradition. The best North American beers I've had have been one-offs, wild outliers: Alaskan Smoked Porter, Midnight Sun Panty Peeler, Unibroue Fin de Monde, Rogue Brutal Bitter. The best British beers I've had have been paradigms of a type - Theakston's Old Peculier, Three Tuns Cleric's Cure, Big Nev's Marathon. When American beers fail, it's because they're wacky but stupid; when British beers fail it's because they're dull. [edit: this possibly says as much about my own expectations as it does about the beer; when American beer is merely boring, rather than cat's-water awful, I don't register it as a failure. Thus Alaskan Amber, etc. I have no idea how I'd have received Brutal Bitter if I'd drunk it in the UK, or Shropshire Lass had I encountered it in Juneau.] |
divarobbie
|
12:10a |
|
[ << Previous 25 ]
|
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
westernactor's Friends Page