Y'all know that I'm a Potterphile, right? Well, Lianne and I are going to see Goblet of Fire tonight, and I'm fired up! I loved that book, and I can't wait to see Ralph Fiennes at work. It's a darker movie for sure (PG 13 now!) and I like Mike Newell's work (Four Wedding and a Funeral director--hee hee!)
And well, it's my second time going to see it, so I'm looking forward to being able to take in more the second time around. The first time I saw it, I was mostly troubled and preoccupied by Brendan Gleeson as Mad-Eye Moony (I had nightmares about his character the night I saw the movie) and by how the kids are growing up. I mean, I remember cute little Dan Radcliffe in the first movie and now...he's growing up to be vaguely hot! He has muscles and hairy legs and all, and I feel a little bit like a dirty old woman for noticing.
So yeah, I'm looking forward to noticing other stuff like the effects and the acting and the pacing of the story's narrative and whatnot.
Tuesday, November 29, 2005
Monday, November 28, 2005
The Knitwit
Yes, dear friends, it's that time of year again, when the weather gets cold, and the holidays approach, and melancholia about my non-functioning marriage sets in again.
These are the times when I'm a little hard on myself: eating unhealthy food, drinking alcohol, not sleeping enough (but when I do manage it, doing it at odd hours), neglecting my fitness routine, and smoking cigarettes.
So since the smoking thing has gotten out of hand, I've taken up knitting once again! Keeps my hands busy and me from getting bored. I don't know what it is about the process of knitting, but the rhythm and the repetition of it is soothing. It might be the fact that you can see your progress, even when it feels like things are going slowly, you can measure it and see that you have moved ahead. And then there's the fact that if you make a mistake, you can just pull it out and start over. There's also something about the sense of accomplishment you get when you finish a project. It's quite therapeutic actually. Sometimes I wish life could be more like that.
Anyhoo, the point is, scarves are forthcoming again my lovelies! If you have never received one from me yet, there's a good chance you might get one this winter!
These are the times when I'm a little hard on myself: eating unhealthy food, drinking alcohol, not sleeping enough (but when I do manage it, doing it at odd hours), neglecting my fitness routine, and smoking cigarettes.
So since the smoking thing has gotten out of hand, I've taken up knitting once again! Keeps my hands busy and me from getting bored. I don't know what it is about the process of knitting, but the rhythm and the repetition of it is soothing. It might be the fact that you can see your progress, even when it feels like things are going slowly, you can measure it and see that you have moved ahead. And then there's the fact that if you make a mistake, you can just pull it out and start over. There's also something about the sense of accomplishment you get when you finish a project. It's quite therapeutic actually. Sometimes I wish life could be more like that.
Anyhoo, the point is, scarves are forthcoming again my lovelies! If you have never received one from me yet, there's a good chance you might get one this winter!
Saturday, November 26, 2005
More Funk Defenders
Yep, we'll be doin' our thang at Brutopia on December 3rd. Tell a friend!
Oh, and by the way, I've tried The World's Greatest Sandwich as featured in the movie Spanglish, and it is the bomb! It must be accompanied by a tasty glass of beer, though. (Which I had, and it was gooood.)
That is all.
Oh, and by the way, I've tried The World's Greatest Sandwich as featured in the movie Spanglish, and it is the bomb! It must be accompanied by a tasty glass of beer, though. (Which I had, and it was gooood.)
That is all.
Thursday, November 24, 2005
The Flavour of the Month
Check it out, Check it out, Check it out y'all!
I have just gotten word that I've been cast in the Black Theatre Workshop School Tour next spring! It's a one-woman show (which I've never done before) called Afrika Solo about a girl who goes to Africa to get in touch with her roots!
So now, as of January next year, I'll be working exclusively at Black Theatre Workshop! First working on Afrika Solo, and then two days later on Blacks Don't Bowl! And all the while I'll be teaching in their Youthworks theatre training program! I'll be working pretty steadily from January through until May! I'll be for once doing exactly what I love, making a (really) decent living at it, without having to work more than two jobs at once!
So all of y'all best be coming to see me act in the show! How amazing is this???!!!?? Not only do I get cast in my first professional production, the same place wants to keep on working with me for other productions!!!! I'm really really excited!!!! (Can't you tell by my excessive use of exclamation marks?)
Go, Me! (Someone pat me on the back or something...)
I have just gotten word that I've been cast in the Black Theatre Workshop School Tour next spring! It's a one-woman show (which I've never done before) called Afrika Solo about a girl who goes to Africa to get in touch with her roots!
So now, as of January next year, I'll be working exclusively at Black Theatre Workshop! First working on Afrika Solo, and then two days later on Blacks Don't Bowl! And all the while I'll be teaching in their Youthworks theatre training program! I'll be working pretty steadily from January through until May! I'll be for once doing exactly what I love, making a (really) decent living at it, without having to work more than two jobs at once!
So all of y'all best be coming to see me act in the show! How amazing is this???!!!?? Not only do I get cast in my first professional production, the same place wants to keep on working with me for other productions!!!! I'm really really excited!!!! (Can't you tell by my excessive use of exclamation marks?)
Go, Me! (Someone pat me on the back or something...)
Tuesday, November 15, 2005
Part Deux...
So anyway, I finally phoned my bandleader, and he came down to rescue me. SO then I had fifteen minutes to get changed, throw on some makeup and choose from an assortment of wigs before we go on stage. Guess who's supposed to kick off the festivities with a rousing rendition of Aretha Franklin? Yep, yours truly. Anyhooo,
Who says women take forever to get ready? I managed to just slap on some lipstick right before we had to rush down to the backstage and get ready to go onstage. Where I learned that all of our chit chatting, and entertainment had to be in French, and that we were performing for an awards night. The Association of Chefs in Montreal or somesuch. And the Director of the Association was completely hammered and having to hang on to the podium microphone to remain upright. She skipped right over our segment of the evening's festivities and continued to to present awards and blather on (with only the faintest detectable slurring). Oh, the sound crews were vexed. I learned colourful new curse words in French (wish I'd have known them when I was in the taxi) and laughing so hard, and yet so quietly that I was sure I would burst my corset. Happily, I didn't and all of my bits and pieces stayed inside the costume where they belonged.
Half an hour later (yes, we're still waiting in the wings offstage) they manage to trundle the poor drunken sot offstage, and we went on to do our bit for the remaining ten minutes alottted to us for our first set. And when it came time to do our second set, which was scheduled a mere twenty minutes later, we had another twenty minute wait while the aforementioned Drunken Duchess giggled into the microphone.
But we made it through alive, all of my naughty bits remained covered, although I didn't feel personally it was my best show ever. The sound man didn't route my voice into the stage monitors, so I had to bellow to hear myself in the speakers in the room. He couldn't seem to understand my sign language gestures indicating to him to raise the volume in the monitors--perhaps my gestures were too subtle. But he didn't seem to notice the musicians frantically windmilling their arms to get his attention either, so...maybe he just thought it was our band choreography. Dunno.
Gotta love those corporate gigs. And why? 'Cause we got paid. And they liked us anyway. So how about that? Just goes to show you, the product they're looking for has little to do with musical virtuosity and everything to do with chicks in sparkly outfits with lots of decolletage.
Thus ends the saga.
While I'm bellyachin' about my life, I'd just like to say that the Concordia Library computers in the lab are CRAP. This is the third time they have corrupted my diskettes and I have been unable to access my homework. We are not amused.
And the snow is pretty innit? If only I could watch it through a window by the fireplace in a lovely chalet while being served glasses of wine, and buckets of Popeye's fried chicken, bags of swedish berries, and philly cheesesteaks by a hunky manservant named Julio.
Who says women take forever to get ready? I managed to just slap on some lipstick right before we had to rush down to the backstage and get ready to go onstage. Where I learned that all of our chit chatting, and entertainment had to be in French, and that we were performing for an awards night. The Association of Chefs in Montreal or somesuch. And the Director of the Association was completely hammered and having to hang on to the podium microphone to remain upright. She skipped right over our segment of the evening's festivities and continued to to present awards and blather on (with only the faintest detectable slurring). Oh, the sound crews were vexed. I learned colourful new curse words in French (wish I'd have known them when I was in the taxi) and laughing so hard, and yet so quietly that I was sure I would burst my corset. Happily, I didn't and all of my bits and pieces stayed inside the costume where they belonged.
Half an hour later (yes, we're still waiting in the wings offstage) they manage to trundle the poor drunken sot offstage, and we went on to do our bit for the remaining ten minutes alottted to us for our first set. And when it came time to do our second set, which was scheduled a mere twenty minutes later, we had another twenty minute wait while the aforementioned Drunken Duchess giggled into the microphone.
But we made it through alive, all of my naughty bits remained covered, although I didn't feel personally it was my best show ever. The sound man didn't route my voice into the stage monitors, so I had to bellow to hear myself in the speakers in the room. He couldn't seem to understand my sign language gestures indicating to him to raise the volume in the monitors--perhaps my gestures were too subtle. But he didn't seem to notice the musicians frantically windmilling their arms to get his attention either, so...maybe he just thought it was our band choreography. Dunno.
Gotta love those corporate gigs. And why? 'Cause we got paid. And they liked us anyway. So how about that? Just goes to show you, the product they're looking for has little to do with musical virtuosity and everything to do with chicks in sparkly outfits with lots of decolletage.
Thus ends the saga.
While I'm bellyachin' about my life, I'd just like to say that the Concordia Library computers in the lab are CRAP. This is the third time they have corrupted my diskettes and I have been unable to access my homework. We are not amused.
And the snow is pretty innit? If only I could watch it through a window by the fireplace in a lovely chalet while being served glasses of wine, and buckets of Popeye's fried chicken, bags of swedish berries, and philly cheesesteaks by a hunky manservant named Julio.
Monday, November 14, 2005
Cooking With Gas...
Kay has been good enough to remind me that I never told you how it went at the Casino. Well, let me tell you--t'was an adventure.
I had to leave class a bit early to get there on time, as my bandleader had asked me to pick up a VHS tape so that we could record the show for promotional purposes.
I hailed a taxi from downtown, with fifteen minutes to spare before I was supposed to check in at Security. Yes, I was cutting it close, and feeling a little stressed. I hopped in the cab and requested my destination.
"What route do you want to take to get there?"
"Listen, if you don't know how to get to the Casino, I can just take another cab, no problem."
"No, NO! Just wait a second...(He pulls over and pulls out a map.) I'm a new driver, and the regulation is that we don't drive off until we know exactly how to get to a given destination."
Five minutes later...
"I'm in a hurry, I'm just getting in another cab, I have to be at work, it's my first day."
"No, no, I've got it."
(Ten minutes later, after a scenic tour of downtown Montreal and its bridges)
"Miss, I'm going to be honest...I'm calling another cab to take you the rest of the way because I'm lost."
I yelled. A lot. Stuff along the lines of I knew it! Why wouldn't you let me out of the car, you're an idiot and prideful, if you cost me my job, I'm going to cost you yours...stuff like that. What can I say? I was vex. I am proud to say that profanity never entered into the conversation, I wanted to maintain my dignity as much as I possibly could, but I also didn't want him to turn crazy and drive me out even further in Nowheresville while there was still a chance I could get another cab. But as long as we're all being perfectly honest, it's also (to a tiny extent) because the above conversation was happening in French and cursing in French doesn't feel like cursing to me. No satisfying venting of emotion possible, and it's hard to curse with any sort of authority when you get the accent wrong.
Ten minutes later, I finally arrived at the Security desk (ten minutes late) to get my badge. Problem. Noone's there from the band, or the staff associated with our contract to lead me to the backstage area where I can get dressed and changed. I have no idea where I'm supposed to go, and the security guard cannot leave his post. What's more, he's not particularly interested in my plight.
What happened next? Tune in later for the next installment of Cooking With Gas, sponsored by Pooty Pootwell and Co.
I had to leave class a bit early to get there on time, as my bandleader had asked me to pick up a VHS tape so that we could record the show for promotional purposes.
I hailed a taxi from downtown, with fifteen minutes to spare before I was supposed to check in at Security. Yes, I was cutting it close, and feeling a little stressed. I hopped in the cab and requested my destination.
"What route do you want to take to get there?"
"Listen, if you don't know how to get to the Casino, I can just take another cab, no problem."
"No, NO! Just wait a second...(He pulls over and pulls out a map.) I'm a new driver, and the regulation is that we don't drive off until we know exactly how to get to a given destination."
Five minutes later...
"I'm in a hurry, I'm just getting in another cab, I have to be at work, it's my first day."
"No, no, I've got it."
(Ten minutes later, after a scenic tour of downtown Montreal and its bridges)
"Miss, I'm going to be honest...I'm calling another cab to take you the rest of the way because I'm lost."
I yelled. A lot. Stuff along the lines of I knew it! Why wouldn't you let me out of the car, you're an idiot and prideful, if you cost me my job, I'm going to cost you yours...stuff like that. What can I say? I was vex. I am proud to say that profanity never entered into the conversation, I wanted to maintain my dignity as much as I possibly could, but I also didn't want him to turn crazy and drive me out even further in Nowheresville while there was still a chance I could get another cab. But as long as we're all being perfectly honest, it's also (to a tiny extent) because the above conversation was happening in French and cursing in French doesn't feel like cursing to me. No satisfying venting of emotion possible, and it's hard to curse with any sort of authority when you get the accent wrong.
Ten minutes later, I finally arrived at the Security desk (ten minutes late) to get my badge. Problem. Noone's there from the band, or the staff associated with our contract to lead me to the backstage area where I can get dressed and changed. I have no idea where I'm supposed to go, and the security guard cannot leave his post. What's more, he's not particularly interested in my plight.
What happened next? Tune in later for the next installment of Cooking With Gas, sponsored by Pooty Pootwell and Co.
Tuesday, November 08, 2005
Go Shawty, it's ya birthday...
Actually, it's not, but it's the song that popped into my head when I realized that this was my fiftieth post. Oddly enough, I don't like 50-Cent at all, or anything that he stands for, although lately my life is somewhat reflective of his motto: Get rich or die tryin'. But mine's the bargain basement version: Make ends meet or die tryin'. Maybe if I could bring myself to be a goldigger (and I could manage to rid myself of the cold, sick, and frightened feeling I get whenever nice lookin--actually, any--men smile at me) I could.
Singing at the Casino de Montreal tonight...woo.
(I guess that seems rather ungrateful of me, doesn't it? Sigh...it's a living.)
Big bisous to all of you, call me write me, show a sister some love!
Singing at the Casino de Montreal tonight...woo.
(I guess that seems rather ungrateful of me, doesn't it? Sigh...it's a living.)
Big bisous to all of you, call me write me, show a sister some love!
Thursday, November 03, 2005
Can you dig it?
What a nice feeling to be on top of your game...For the second week running, I'm managing to stay on top of all my tasks AND find time to exercise (which I hadn't done for a little while).
Although I can't lie, a big motivator for the exercise thing is the gig at Casino de Montréal coming up on Tuesday. Got to look the part, blah blah...and if that gig goes well, maybe our band will start getting corporate gigs in town instead of having to go to Atlantic City! Which would be fab. I don't know if I can stand another extended period of time at the Quality Inn over there...although the band members and I fondly(?) dub the place Calcutta.
Anyhoo. I had an audition for the Artistic Director of Black Theatre Workshop today, although I wasn't really auditioning for any specific role (to my knowledge) I presumed that Tyrone (call him!) just wanted to see if I was any good as an actor. And well, not to toot my own horn, but I am. The Bomb. His words were, "You rock!" How gratifying. Wouldn't it be nice if next year I made a living as an actor for even six months out of the year? And I wouldn't have to be a maid, a hooker, or a criminal of some sort! I've got a big stupid grin right here in the computer lab just dreaming about it.
Speaking of dreaming...I've been dreaming for the past week about being involved in romantic-type relationships with random people of my entourage that I'm not even interested in or attracted to. I wonder if this is my subconscious warming up to the concept of eventually one day in the next decade being somewhat willing to consider actually getting involved with someone, or if it's my subconscious telling me not to bother, that it's not going to be worth it. Dunno. In any case, who has the time? I don't have any social life to speak of, for one. Secondly, I'm really digging just being with me these days. I really enjoy my own company and I feel like, alone isn't a bad thing at all. I've got friends and family that I love and who love me right back. Would a relationship with a man really be more worthwhile than that? Does the lack of being involved with someone make all my other relationships insignificant? Hells no!
So check it out, y'all: this is me saying that I loves ya, and even though my head is down right now while I'm plowing my row, you're still in my heart every day, and you matter to me a lot, even though I don't tell you so as often as I should. I'm blessed with understanding and faithful family and friends and I'm so grateful for you.
I can dig it.
Although I can't lie, a big motivator for the exercise thing is the gig at Casino de Montréal coming up on Tuesday. Got to look the part, blah blah...and if that gig goes well, maybe our band will start getting corporate gigs in town instead of having to go to Atlantic City! Which would be fab. I don't know if I can stand another extended period of time at the Quality Inn over there...although the band members and I fondly(?) dub the place Calcutta.
Anyhoo. I had an audition for the Artistic Director of Black Theatre Workshop today, although I wasn't really auditioning for any specific role (to my knowledge) I presumed that Tyrone (call him!) just wanted to see if I was any good as an actor. And well, not to toot my own horn, but I am. The Bomb. His words were, "You rock!" How gratifying. Wouldn't it be nice if next year I made a living as an actor for even six months out of the year? And I wouldn't have to be a maid, a hooker, or a criminal of some sort! I've got a big stupid grin right here in the computer lab just dreaming about it.
Speaking of dreaming...I've been dreaming for the past week about being involved in romantic-type relationships with random people of my entourage that I'm not even interested in or attracted to. I wonder if this is my subconscious warming up to the concept of eventually one day in the next decade being somewhat willing to consider actually getting involved with someone, or if it's my subconscious telling me not to bother, that it's not going to be worth it. Dunno. In any case, who has the time? I don't have any social life to speak of, for one. Secondly, I'm really digging just being with me these days. I really enjoy my own company and I feel like, alone isn't a bad thing at all. I've got friends and family that I love and who love me right back. Would a relationship with a man really be more worthwhile than that? Does the lack of being involved with someone make all my other relationships insignificant? Hells no!
So check it out, y'all: this is me saying that I loves ya, and even though my head is down right now while I'm plowing my row, you're still in my heart every day, and you matter to me a lot, even though I don't tell you so as often as I should. I'm blessed with understanding and faithful family and friends and I'm so grateful for you.
I can dig it.
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