Snapshots

So much to catch up on.



But first, a memory. This one flooded over me this morning while walking from judiciary square to metro center in the drizzle. My npr story of the day podcast was about the demise of the poloroid camera--how the company had to declare bankruptcy and they have now pretty much stopped making the cameras and the film, so that soon, the polaroid camera will once and for all be added to the crowded graveyard of extinct consumer electronics.



Polaroids are another one of those things that seperate someone like me from the very fresh faces I sometimes work with. Some of whom are now a full decade younger than I am. Playdoh Golem had a twenty-year-old in it. That's more than a decade.



Late-80s babies probably never had a polaroid unless it was for the retro value. They also wouldn't remember a time before the internet and would never have purchased a record album.



That said--the five years that seperate me and C establish him as someone who owned 8-tracks (inherited from an older brother, but still...) and me as someone who only remembers them from garage sales.



Anyhow. Polaroids.



We didn't have a polaroid camera though I am sure I wanted one. I remember knowing that the film was very expensive so you couldn't waste it playing around. But there was a day, on my grandma's lawn, the house on candy lane, and we are taking pictures with a polaroid. I think it must be my aunt's camera. It's a special day and I sort of remember that she is graduating. From highschool? My aunt was about thirteen years older than me, so it's possible. As I remember this the image creates itself in my head and now I am convinced that she is in a graduation gown. This would make me and my brother about five. And maybe they took pictures of us, with our aunt, her in cap and gown. And maybe it was sunny? And we are close to but not underneath the big tree that sat at the foot of my grandma's front lawn.



This is my aunt who passed away in the fall.



Somewhere there are polaroids of her and two smiling five-year-olds in 1980s summer threads.

Hooomana

Heading to Louisville tomorrow for a weekend visit. It's a little bit disappointing to realize my most exciting trip since the fall will be to Kentucky. Nothing against Kentucky. But. You know.

I am very much looking forward to a couple of days out of town however.

And marathon theater, and socializing, and hanging with Jen-Men and Jeremy. I'm excited. I'd be more excited if I was packed.

It's been a draining week which is strange since I am essentially unemployed.

But. But. But...

With gigs here and there. Did a day's work with YPT on an updated version of The Tortoise and the Hare. After we staged the piece the sixteen-year-old playwright came in and took notes. She had a legal pad that the YPT boys gave her and I saw her writing stuff down and I got a little nervous like I do whenever a playwright comes in and sees the work I've done on their play.

And then she said at the end, "I loved *this*, and I liked how you did *this*, and I thought *this* was good. Oh, and I meant to say that I liked *this* as well".

It was pretty great. She was super articulate and centered. I love meeting cool, well-adjusted girls.

My Hebrew School Boyfriend

Gwenergy has done a fabulous play-by-play of Saturday night. If you squint your eyes a little bit while flipping through the pictures, it's almost as good as actually being there.

Almost.

Thanks to all who made it possible. Hannah and Shawn and Andy and Theater J. And everyone else too.

Sunday night I caught up on sleep and Monday night I caught up with friends--eating Ethiopian food with Laura and her new fellow and C at Meskereem. Which was lovely. We devoured the equivalent of two veggies and one meat feast, until all that was left was one sad hard-boiled egg covered in berbere. No one could figure out how to eat it with the injera without making a mess.

Walking down 18th Street I was baffled to see at least three establishments that were new to me. I think the last time I was over there was a good six months ago, so it's possible. Oh Ad-Mo, we knew you when.

Speaking of rapid development, I just read that a Harris Teeter is indeed slated to break ground up the street from us. Granted, we waited three years for the Harris Teeter in Hill East to actually emerge, but I can dream anyway.

We Love You Hadassah

I didn't eat anything after 3pm yesterday so I have been ravenous all day.

Do I have a valid excuse for this or is it all psychosomatic?

Egg and cheese on a bagel. Thai food for lunch (that I dribbled down my jeans). Now whoppers and m&m's from the Folger BOB stash.

Mmmm.

All is well. The week 'o readings has been so far successful, and the final one is shaping up nicely.

Come celebrate Purim with us:

Saturday, March 22 at 9:00 pm

J on Demand and Theater J present

A Purim Party featuring a workshop production of

The Playdoh Golem

by Shawn Northip

directed by Shirley

Featuring Daniel Eichner, Gwen Grastorf, Jewel Greenberg, Michelle Hessel, Tom Howley, Sam Ludwig, Adam Minton, Casie Platt, Rachael Saltzman, Tyler Sonnichsen, Mike Grew and Bryant Sullivan.

Celebrate Purim with drinks, music and laughs as Theater J presents a staged reading of THE PLAYDOH GOLEM the newest play from the twisted mind of Shawn Northrip (TITUS X, LUNCH and last year’s Cap Fringe “Pick of Fringe,” CAUTIONARY TALES FOR ADULTS and THE MANY ADVENTURES OF TRIXIE TICKLES).

Leah Goldstein, Rebecca Goldman and Abby Goldberg plot to win their Hebrew school crushes by destroying their non-Jewish competition. When their plot to make a female Golem succeeds they must stop her before she destroys the entire neighborhood. This fun rock musical will take you back to your high school days when your crushes were deep, your friends were shallow and Hebrew school was just an excuse to flirt. Featuring the Shuligans, the world’s worst post-punk Bar Mitzvah band.

In the Gym of the Washington DCJCC. Doors open at 9:00 pm. Show starts at 9:30 pm. $10 Ticket includes one free drink.

To purchase tickets visit http://ga6.org/thejat16thandq/events/golem/details.tcl

Painstaking Work

I've been getting more immersed in preparations for my show at Catalyst.

And by that I mean watching Justin Timberlake videos and renting the Indiana Jones trilogy.

Callaghan. Putting the sexy back in background research.

Anyhow, last night C and I watched Raiders of the Lost Arc, which I totally had to twist his arm to sit down and watch with me (ha. right.) And I had the same moment of confusion that I had with Star Wars.

I was six when this movie came out. And yet, I swear I saw it in the theater. My parents would not have taken me to see this when I was six. How did this all come to be?

Same with Star Wars, which came out when I was only two.

Unless we saw them all on TV. And the sequels in the theater.

I'm wracking my brain for an in-the-moment image of where and when I saw these movies. I'm usually pretty good with that--my memory, while not always great with dates and times--can usually recall enough images and pictures to remember where I was and how I felt when I was doing something. But I'm having trouble here.

Family members--do you remember when we saw these movies?

I also was struck by the heat of the ship cabin sex scene, and wondered how I felt when I was a pre-pubescent who still thought that only married people had sex, watching it. I probably didn't get that that's what happened.

It's pretty hot though. And Harrison Ford? Yeah. Ummm. Really.

Couches

Had a long day of wandering with Gwen and Messner yesterday and almost felt like a day of vacation since we were never actually wandering to get somewhere.

It's a week of readings.

Rehearsed one of them yesterday afternoon. I walked into the room on a bit of a high knowing I was going to spend four hours working with some of my favorite people in the world. Indeed, it was a rehearsal full of laughs, hopefully not to the detriment of the work. I don't think so. I am also experiencing what might be the draining of a deep well of anger/bitterness/frustration in my life and it makes me feel lighter and stronger just knowing that this is a possibility. For many years, I have thought it would never happen, even to the slightest degree.

It's a good thing.

So afterwards several of us went to eat Ella's pizzas with the playwright and then Gwen, Eric and I sat on a couch in Ollsen's, where we depressed Gwen with thirty-something talk. We then moved to another couch up at Bedrock Billiards. There we rang in the day of birth of one Mr. Randy Baker, artistic director extraordinaire. It was a fun time. Eric and I played Maggie and Randy in a mean game of foosball that made me all sweaty and nervous and loud. And I talked with Rahaleh about the first time we met. And I patted Casie's back a lot. And talked with McCormick about the Pogues and love. And got all misty-eyed chatting with Andrew and Gabriella.

Good times.

March, March, March

I have been without a temp job since Monday of this week, which is good for my social life but bad for my bank account. I am trying to treat this fact with just the right amount of anxiety, and not a dollop more. Though this morning it's getting a heaping spoon full.

Shit.

I'm going to go sit and read in the cute coffee shop around the corner from my second DC apartment. The area was much more of a wasteland back then, just the 7-11 and Kenny's Smokehouse. During the significant snow fall we had in 2003 (and I say significant as a former rochestarian) we existed for nearly a week on oddly constructed 7-11 meals... macaroni and cheese, canned soup with added frozen vegetables, cereal and milk until all of the milk was gone... But Jacob's is charming, and they make a mean smoked salmon panini.

Mmmm.

Quick updates before I am off.

Due to my un-employed-ness I was able to go up to NY for the night on Tuesday and see my brother go on in the show he has been understudying since December, AUGUST: OSAGE COUNTY. It is THE play this season, the play to end all plays, the new american masterpiece, buzz-garnering and noteworthy, and yes--it was very, very good. Amy Morton rocked my world. And my brother? A superstar. So good. Of course.

I also got to meet briefly with the playwright of CRUMBLE. Lovely, glowing, fascinating Sheila. It was helpful and fun to be eating tiny tasty crostini in Carroll Gardens in the middle of a tuesday. This should happen every week!

And lest I neglect to do so, I've been meaning to post a brag about Benjamin's cabaret break-out. He has now done his show three times, to great acclaim. If he does it again--I'm telling you, see it.

And we saw the Pogues last night. It was a fun venture out to Baltimore and Shane McGowan seemed not so much of a mess as just a bit done with it all. Kind of a mess, but not even enough of a mess to be a spectacle. He just seemed kind of... tired. And ready to be... finished. Interpret that as you will.

Okay. Life beckons.

Photo Essay

where things are at right now.


a pile of clean laundry on my floor.


the amount of reading i need to get done before book club on friday.


holden-the-cat who likes his bag lately more than he likes me.


my sad, lifeless, much-missed broken ipod.