Notes from a Kike

Last night Tony and I postponed our Sacramento Pizza Adventure to see NWC. A showing of N*gger, Wetb*ck, Ch*nk came to the Mondavi Studio and they added a 10:30PM show to their short sold-out run. For those of you who do not know them, they are 3 guys out of LA who basically do this 3 man storytelling show about race and stereotypes. Since nigger is the mack daddy of derogatory slang and I heard it said about 500 times over the course of the show, I was inspired to sing my own K*ke number to Tony's Wetb*ck grooves as we left the theatre. Pretty cool stuff with a strong clear message.

On Thursday night, I saw Guillermo Gomez-Pena perform his one man show El Mexorcist 2 in the Main Theatre on campus. It was packed to the gills and after a short intro given by Larry Bogad, one of our faculty members, playing a Homeland Security officer, we were off and running on issues of immigration and "straddling the border." Gomez-Pena came out in a knee length black and white skirt and boustiere donning one high heeled pump and a leather boot. It was very participatory and about a third in spanish. I felt what it was like to be -- as Victor said -- "a cultural other."

On Friday after Rinde's class, there was an 8-hour workshop lead by Gomez-Pena. We did this amazing exercise where we had to stand at the end of the room, close our eyes and run to him at the other end. What an amazing test of trust. It also showed us our true way of running. I ran like a gazelle at the start and when I got close to the end and the trust wained I slowed down and contorted my face. The workshop got very intense with us creating human sculptures -- images of religion, sex, fetishes and fallen immigrants.

I was concerned about my ability and willingness to "go there." His ideas and images are so provocative. I mean in his show he talked about very political and sometimes sexual things. Would I be able to forget my inhibitions with a bunch of primarily strangers?

In a word, no. But I did come awfully close and expanded my Jewish American mind.

I Am An Idiot or Caution: We're Gonna Get Gross

I really can't believe that I am even going to write this.

You all know more about the more well-rounded me, so I trust there won't be a huge amount of judgement. Hopefully. But I'm warning that it gets pretty nasty pretty quickly. The few people I told about this verbally were at least appreciative about the educational element.

Last chance to turn away...

For the last 4-5 days, I have have felt a little crampy. I was not in any discomfort so I decided it wasn't anything to worry about. However, a day later I noticed blood in both my stool and urine. It didn't go away, so I called the nurse help line at the Health Center this morning. After explaining my symptoms, the nurse scheduled an appointment for 9:15. I immediately sent a message to Melanie, the professor of my Voice class since class began at 10 and I might have been late.

I got excited about another chance to view a doctor for my acting class for medical practicioner workshop idea. And of course, I was relieved that someone would tell me what the heck is going on with my body. After waiting for 30 minutes in the waiting room, I was called back into the exam room.

There were a bunch of long and thin tools and supplies (um, yeah phallic) sitting on the exam table, so I had a clear idea what was in store. I spoke to the nurse and the doctor and was asked to head down to the lab for a urinalysis. I returned to the exam room and picked up my Anne Bogart book, A DIrector Prepares, we are reading for CORE -- and waited. I have to admit that waiting is usually the thing that sucks the most.

I pray to god that that was my first and only rectal exam. The doctor did confirm the blood, but then said something about fibrous tissue. I sat up and we discussed the possibility of hemorrids. I mean, what the heck are they, anyway? He wanted to do a blood test, but I just wanted to wait for the urinalysis. Then out of the clear blue sky Mr. Doctor Man asked if I had been eating beets. BEETS!

Um, yeah, these 4 beautiful beets were in my last CSA box from Riverdog. I boiled and peeled them and covered them with a vinaigrette and made a salad. Then I sauteed the beet greens with fresh garlic and broccoli. Yummy, yum, yum.

When the results came back from the lab, (on pink paper!!) of course, there was no blood. I felt like a complete idiot.

To make matters worse, this was not the first time that this happened to me. When I was at Emory, my stool was a funky green color. When I called the nurse at the health center, she asked if I had eaten anything different. "um, no." When suddenly it dawned on my that I had ingested almost a full bag of black jelly beans.

Bleh

So, we are in the middle of NoCal's rainy winter. Over Winter Break, Christine and I bought rubber boots at J Crew. At the first hint of rain, I put those bad boys on and started puddle jumping. What a blast! I felt like a kid again.  I got excited at the sight of rain, because I got DON MY BOOTS.  Yiipppeeee!

However, I have not seen the sun in way too many days and the weather forecast is a string of these rainy icons.  As Della said in our CORE class on Tuesday, she just wanted to get into bed with a book.  Um, me too.

I mean I know it's good for the land -- and my yummy CSA veggie boxes, but it's dampening my outlook. Rain, rain, go away...

Still Swimming...

It's already 6:38 -- where the heck did the day go? I meant to get a bunch of reading done and a rehearsal in for my self portrait, but I didn't get out of bed until 11AM. Well, I got up at 8 to feed the cats, and again at 9AM to make eggs with hummus and pita, but I was in bed watching Hotel Rwanda (with some of the special features) until just about 11AM.

Gosh, what an amazing film. And so frightening that this kind of atrocity happens even today. Hotel Rwanda was on my Netflix queue. The disk sat on the floor of my bedroom for almost 2 weeks. I don't even remember what comes next. I have a feeling that I will let that subscription go, just as I did my jdate plan today.

Classes are going well. We just completed week 2 (of 10) and I don't really have a routine. On our walk to the MU to do our Invisible Theatre piece at the COHO Bakery last Wednesday, Sara mentioned the same thing. Now that THIRDeYE is opened I hope to settle into a regular schedule.

I invited Christine and Tony over for dinner and they joined me for the opening of THIRDeYE on Friday. I cooked a lovely dinner of curried lentil soup with fresh citrus, red leaf & romaine with avocado and mandarins and the main course was lamb with sushi rice and sauteed garlic broccoli. Tony picked up my CSA box and then lettuces and broccoli were used immediately. After 2 bottles of wine and lemon drops (made with fresh Meyer lemons) we stumbled to The Wyatt for the show.

I am not sure what I was thinking. I made a comment that I could not be intoxicated for the show, but who did I mention that to?...my intoxicated friends. I may be paranoid, but I am pretty sure that many people knew that we were more than tipsy for the performance. In fact, I don't remember all of the show. Um, that's bad.

I'll probably head back next Saturday, so I can see the growth in the performances and well, really SEE the plays. I saw Jade today on campus and she was quiet. She was either engrossed in a project or giving me the cold shoulder. That's when the paranoia popped back up again.

We ran out of time in Voice on Thursday, so I will present TH on Tuesday. As I roast some yummy potatoes and onions and saute the beet greens with the remainder of the broccoli, I read Chapter 2 of Augusto Boal by Frances Babbage -- and sip some tea. No wine tonight.

My Brain is Swimming

We just started the new quarter just over a week ago.  I am finishing up advising the undergraduate play festival, THIRDeYE that I worked on last quarter, but for the most part everything else is new.  New classes, new schedule, new ideas and new challenges.

Needless to say, my brain is full.  Well, not full, but a mass of material. Do I talk about the homoerotic physical work of Lloyd Newson or the movement we are doing in Fate & Spinoza?  Or do I keep things more personal as I contemplate my devised Self Portrait that I must present in CORE next week or the fact that the dude from match.com decided to go snow boarding instead of call me to postpone our first date?

As I sit here smelling the curried vegetables I roast for dinner from the latest veggie box, I relax my lower jaw and raise the tip of my tongue against the back of my upper teeth.  And I blow.

That my friends is a TH.  If you move the tongue out of the mouth and keep blowing you begin to make more of a fricative sound.  To quote the funny looking Carol Channing in the movie, Thoroughly Modern Millie...

RASBERRIES!

The Other One

I feel like I'm dating two men. Two weeks ago I got a nice delivery of fresh fruits and vegetables from a local farm. Since this CSA thing was pretty new I wanted to try two different ones out and make a choice. After the first delivery I told Deborah of Nevermore Farm that I would have to cancel my second delivery. I dropped my empty cardboard box at her husbands office on campus.

So, this past Friday, I picked up my second CSA box -- from the second farm. Riverdog. I am not sure I liked having to drive across town to go get it, but I was delighted with the yummies inside. I had to prepay for the month, so I have another 3 weeks to make a decision.

This weeks box had a 3 leeks, a big bunch of arugula, 2 heads of red leaf lettuce, 3 pounds of mandarins, and a beautiful bunch of sweet, sweet carrots.

Of course, Maxie had to stir up some trouble. Playing with the green tops of the carrots. I eventually had to close the box.


Then I came across this weird thing. It's called romanesco. I starred at it for a while and was ready to call the farm to find out what it was and what the heck to do with it.

Isn't it weird? The accompanying note from the farm said to treat it just like cauliflower. I wound up roasting it with one of the leeks and one of carrots. Can anyone say, delish?

Five Month Test

Whew! With all of the healthy local eating I was worried for a moment...

You're Not Exactly a Hippie...

While you're not a hippie, you've got the spirit of one. Like most hippies, you have deep beliefs and unusual interests. You may not buy into hippie fashions, music, or heavy drug use.  But at heart, you are a free spirit and suspicious of the status quo.

Are You a Hippie?

It must be Fate

This quarter I am doing a devised work under the direction of Rinde Eckert. Someone had the brilliant idea to make us audition during our last week of classes. So on top of all the reading, projects and grading, I had to focus on getting someone to like me and want to work with me.

We auditioned on a Wednesday, had callbacks on Thursday and once the cast list went up, we were called for a short "rehearsal" on Friday night. This was kind of a rehearsal, but more of a lecture. After introductions and a presentation from the scenic and lighting designer, Rinde basically talk at us for 2 hours. I did appreciate him saying that he needed to gain our trust with this project as he gets it out of his brain and into our hands. I hoped that came sooner than later.

The play is called Fate and Spinoza and it deals with optics and philosophy. Mathematics and human relations. Our buddy Rinde was slated to play David Spinoza Cornell (a combination of David Hume and Baruch Spinoza) and the rest of the company play his Fates, as well as the rest of the people around him.

All I kept thinking at first was, "oh great, I get to be a puppet! I have no idea what is going on and just have to do things based on the musings of this Pulitzer Prize nominated guy. Fantastic." I eventually calmed down and realized that I liked not knowing what my roles would be. I was very content just flowing with the wind and enjoyed just playing.

At rehearsal on Thursday he called just the women. We did a very cool exercise where we had to write about a girl at 5 years old sitting on her stoop. A short paragraph that explained what she was wearing and what she was looking at. We then moved on to 10 years old, 15, 20, 30 and then 45. By this time she had a name. Rinde mentioned that our woman was standing outside of a hotel with another woman and asked who the other woman was, how old she was and what they were waiting for.

With this information we became the characters and then interviewed each other. Fascinating. After another short exercise, we finally read parts of the script. Rinde did not read Spinoza, but we each took turns reading him and the other roles -- male and female.

During one of his discussions he slipped in that Spinoza was now a woman. If you took a breath you would have missed it. A few moments later he asked to see me after rehearsal. Once all the actors left the room, he stared straight ahead with me sitting next to him. He mentioned the name April Spinoza and said that I would play her. I was flabbergasted. And that doesn't happen too much.

Take Me to Grady...

I have just under an hour before Voice class and I am done with my reading for Acting tomorrow.  I cannot believe that I have not been blogging -- especially during break.  But is anyone reading this thing, anyway?

As I mused about today's entry.  I came across an article about the financial shortfalls of Grady Memorial Hospital in the New York Times.  If this story reaches NY, things are in dire straits.  This video made me teary.

My GP, Dr. Jim Braude of old Actor's Express fame once said to me that I must have health insurance just so I don't get taken to Grady.  I have walked through those halls during one of my many stints as a Standardized Patient.  Since healthcare is my latest concern, I am very worried about the poor and sick in Atlanta.

Bedroom Progression

I have asked my landlord for closet doors since I moved in 4 months ago. She kept saying that she would ask the owner, but it truly just sounded like a no. So, a few days ago I went with Christine and her kids to IKEA to purchase curtains. That turned into "let's redo my bedroom!" I did buy curtains and a duvet cover. This will also mean that I need a new rug and new accent candles or other decorations. Therefore I am re-thinking my decision. I realized I am behind on showing the progression of my bedroom as I did with my kitchen a few weeks back.

Anyone have an opinion?

This photo was taken my first morning in Davis. Or maybe it was the second. My mother and I slept on Chad's futon on the floor since my reclocube had not been delivered or unloaded.

After the movers unloaded, we had them put my bed together. I am standing at the entrance to my bedroom.

The entrance of my bedroom today.  My bathroom is directly on my left and a little cubbie/storage area is on my right.  There is a built-in book shelf just passed the cubbie where I keep some books and my printer.  There are also 2 random plastic tubs that I just cannot seem to unpack.
 

Here we are a little closer in.  You can see the color scheme better, as well as the accent rug and the accessories behind the bed.

My armoire is to the right just outside this shot.   The small bookcase is right next to the door that leads to the back patio.

Ah, and of course, Maxie had to get into the action!

With my back towards the window, here is my closet and little linen cubbie.  I know you really cannot tell, but I did put my clothes in color order.  It does clean it up, a bit.  But I think curtains are a better option.  The cats like to play in the linen cubbie, so I am not even going to address the messiness here.  That's my bed at the bottom of the shot and my armoire is just off to the left.

And full circle.  Standing next to the built-in bookcase and my printer.  I am facing the entrance to the living room.  I added a little note on the mirror to make me smile.  I promise that it works each and every time.

Three times a Charm

Yesterday I joined Christine and her kids on a drive to SF to pick up Christine's friend from the airport.  We stopped at a small beach close to the Golden Gate Bridge and each made three wishes on small stones and shells.
Last night when we got back to Christine's house, there was a party in progress.  In between Wii excitements I asked everyone to take a card and write resolutions, goals or a note to themselves that I would mail in December of this year.  My ol' buddy Corinna (remember her?) had us do this on New Year's at a cabin in N. GA years ago and I did it at Jenn and Jorge Duran's party 2 years ago.  People seemed into it.  For me I wrote a bunch of questions to hopefully keep me in check with where I need to be this time next year.

Today at our lovely home cooked brunch Christine asked us to go around the table and say something we hope for 2008.  At first I said, gosh, another one?  But finally replied, "good health for my family and friends."