The Garret

Well well well, once again I have totally failed to post anything in almost two weeks. I've been kind of worn out by work and the weather and things. Last week I met up with some dear friends for a picnic followed by Shakespeare on the Common's production of Othello, which was mostly very good except when it was unintentionally funny. I found Iago a lot cooler than in previous productions. I am tempted to blame this, like so many other things, on kdramas. Or jdramas.

Speaking of things with infuriatingly vague endings, how about that Veronica Mars series finale, eh? I finally finished season 3 and was left gaping. What kind of an ending is that? (P.S. Oh Logan, what are we going to do with you?)

I've been doing a lot of reading lately--Robin McKinley's forthcoming book, Tony DiTerlizzi's novel, and so forth. And what I feel building up in my brain is a rant on evolutionary biology, comma, textual misuse of. Anybody interested?

This is your semi-annual airport post, brought to you by that infernal "soft jazz" Sacramento insists on playing, which pleases nobody and irritates everybody, “everybody” being defined in this instance as “Fiona”.

Last Thursday we went to the local performance of Into the Woods! It was most excellent. My favorite part is always the princes, and I am most annoyed that the London cast recording doesn’t have the "Agony" reprise. The orchestra was fantastic, and the cast was wonderful. Cinderella's prince was a dead ringer for Tom Cruise. It was hilarious. I was a little bit smug to note, however, that they only had one cow, and Milky White had to masquerade as Fake Milky White. When I was Assistant Props Mistress, we had Milky White and Irma the Fake Cow. Irma only had one scene, but she acted the hell out of it.

Er, as much as a paper-mache’d suitcase on legs can act. I’ve completely forgotten how we got the cows to roll around. And nothing could ever, ever beat our Prince’s giant stuffed horse.

( dwarves are very upsetting )

Last night I went to see Gilbert & Sullivan’s The Gondoliers at MIT. cadragongirl was busy papering and the other people I usually go with were busy doing something, so I flew solo, looking very spiffy in my green nail polish and pseudo-Victorian locket-on-a-ribbon, if I do say so myself. Despite some technical difficulties, the cast did a fabulous job, and the costumes and set looked great. Congratulations to mistyivy and her comrades on another excellent production!

I came home rather late, thanks to T shenanigans, and related my version of the opera to M. This mostly consisted of the words "dude," "dudes," "gondolier-types," and "entourage retainer-dude." You can take the girl out of California...XD

Safely in CA and counting down the days to Japan. I expect to spend most of them wandering around the house, Donald Keene translations in hand, absentmindedly wrapping things and trying not to kill myself with the stairs.

( airplanes, Gilbert & Sullivan, and keeping the fire department entertained )

Pre-semester booklist just came in. Heigh-ho Prius, away! To the library!

This evening there was a farewell party for a classmate who’s moving out to SF. All that delicious sourdough couldn’t happen to a nicer person. :)

Yawn. Rachel posted about the past week, so I should get my butt in gear and do my own, much chattier version. (She has mastered the art of brevity. I, as you may observe, have not.)

Ahem. Right. ( But first, a few comments on the Buzzer Beat Inter-Episode Kiss Battle, and other things )

...

Oh right, this was going to be about Adventures in New York.

Last week I took the bus in to the city for an astonishing $1.50, which was great. On the minus side, the passengers were forced to listen to (and watch) Happy Feet for the entire ride.

The excellent a4yroldfaerie met me uptown and we had awesome pizza and black cherry sodas before heading further up to her place, where everyone was absolutely lovely to me. Her cat promptly decided I was fascinating and new. I happily petted the cat and sat limply in front of the beautiful, beautiful air conditioning. And then we made quiche. Nothing burst into flames this time, but I was most happy with the experience nonetheless. (I was allowed to beat the eggs and wield the pointy cheese-cutting knife. Yeah, my joy in cooking is kind of predictable.)

We awoke in the predawn hours, hauled our stuff over to 81st Street, collected people, and proceeded to camp out for hours and hours to get free tickets for Shakespeare in the Park’s production of The Bacchae. Some of you will probably remember that I was actually in The Bacchae a few years ago. The experience was memorable not only for my lingering affection for the play and tendency to suddenly intone bits of it in Greek, but also for my then-nascent addiction to chai.

Tickets obtained, we crashed for a few hours, ordered Thai, and headed back to the park. The production was really, really good. The music helped a lot-- originally it was musical, of course, and I think that went a long way toward making it accessible. I would personally have cut some of the long choral passages about the beauties of such-and-such fields, but in general having the chorus be an actual chorus worked really well. Dionysus was insolent and hilarious and a little crazy, as he should be, and had perfect Dionysus hair. Well, obviously I don’t know if the flowing curls were perfumed and dripping with oil, but they flowed very nicely.

The production notes were very clear on what an uncomfortable play The Bacchae is. And it IS uncomfortable. It has comic bits that work toward and culminate in tragedy. It has dancing and songs about idyllic fields and innuendo and cross-dressing and hideous, hideous gore. It has a king who is trying to keep his damn city-state functioning, versus a god who is in the right because he is a god, and for whom functioning city-states are completely beside the point.

I kept trying to remember what Nietzsche said about it, and could only remember that it was the only Euripides play he liked, and he didn’t just like it, he loved it.

I was delighted to discover that the translation they used was the same one I’m familiar with. I honestly got chills when the chorus started in on “From the mountains I have come.” And “It is finished” is much more elegant than “Thus have these things turned out” (my own version) for toiond’ apebe tode pragma. (Please pardon the accent fail; I’m functionally font illiterate and moreover working from memory here).

We finished up the evening, as one does, with very elegant desserts and very loud Beatles music. Delicious. ♥

I’ll leave the rest of the week for another time because I am sleepy and have packing to do. My bed, such as it is, is becoming more comfortable by the minute. *snuggles* Sweet dreams to me. (I do hope there is no body-switching tonight...)

I'm sorry to report that this is not your high-on-chai report from the airport. There will be no high-on-chai report this semester due to the continued lack of chai at the school coffee shop. I apologize for this temporary lapse in service. Here, have an Airport Anecdote instead:

I made it to the airport with only my carry-on-- everybody is charging for any checked baggage these days. Bunch of tightwad cheapskates. It was really nice not to have to wrangle a suitcase, though. My flight was really late, it turned out, and I’d miss my connecting flight through Phoenix. I put on my best wide-eyed, hopeful smile and the nice ticket counter people fell all over themselves getting me on a connecting flight through Philadelphia instead. Once I made it through Security, boarding started before you could say “Emotional manipulation of customer service is amazingly effective!” Made it home without major incident, even though there was a huge traffic jam on the Philly runway and we sat there for an hour after the arriving flight was half an hour late. Stay gold, traffic control! There was also some amazing turbulence over the Midwest, but I convinced myself we weren't going to die and kind of enjoyed it.

( Sundry Analepses )

Well, I’m back home at The Garret at last, and me all lit up from an impromptu night on the town. Four words: “sex farce” and “free tickets”. ( No, really. Oh, and about last Saturday as well... )