revieloutionne (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
revieloutionne) wrote2006-05-29 12:50 am
revieloutionne) wrote2006-05-29 12:50 am
Entry tags:
What Do I Do?
Okay, so this retelling of the PTO conference is turning into a fucking novel, but I don't care. Even though it doesn't really go anywhere, it's really helping me find my authorial voice, because I don't have to come up with the "plot" as I write it. I mean, there'd maybe be a plot if certain interests of mine* had gone somewhere, but.
So. Saturday morning. First round of workshops is, from my point of view, shit. I wakeup for them anyway, though, because I have to go talk to Ellie (the woman running the conference) to see if we can, indeed, get the main stage for our repeat performance. I'm still a little bit drunk from the last night. I inform the Iowans of this, again.
Find Ellie. Get led to a person who has the phone number of the guy who would know if the stage was being used. It's not. We've got the stage. I just fucking bagged the Walking Theatre Project its first on-(real)stage performance since October. I just fucking won at life, because I can never ask anyone for shit, like, EVER. It's a mental block taht I just hammered through like nobodys business.
Wait around for a while for people to start showing up for warm-up. We get in there and the first thing Amanda and Lindsey do is order five of us to go get acting blocks from the room we performed in before, which is understandableof them, but it comes out a bit bitchier than neccesary. Someof the three-day conferencers bitch a bit about the stage being unneccesary, given how few people will be coming to the performance. I stab them in my mind. Nobodyseems to care that I fucking got us a stage. Red Fortress isokayed, as I'd been going on about wanting the stage and I spoke to Ellie and we'd maybe get the stage and wouldn't it be awesome to have the stage? and they were, I'm sure, sickof hearing about me getting the stage, and not likely to show any appreciation. The three-dayers, however, didn't seem to react at all to just having the stage (except to bitch), let alone my acquiring it.
Performance goes well. Amanda and Lindsey don't go on so long when covering what WTP has done (the cover just as much as before, mind, just quicker. Hooray!), and more of us have stuff to say during the Q&A. Plus, the five people we had in the audience were a very good five people to perform for. they knew all sorts of stuff we didn't, and had/were contacts. Plus, oneof them totally made a connection about Michael I had never seen that's quite awesome.
Oh, and the guy Zanny had hooked up with at Players, but was done with after last night? Showed up at our performance. He sat way up and off to teh side, and it was awkward as all fuck.
Lunch! We're too lazy to walk way over to the free food (It's not in the building we were in, but at least five minutes away), because the dorm is closer and it has our groceries in it. We make our lunches and hang out in the basement, and just are having an awesome time. This is when Rosemary tells the "What Do I Do!" story, the result of which is all of us appropriating a mentally disabled kid's actions for our amusement. It's absolutely awful, but it became a better signifierfor awkward situations than either the traditional "AWK-ward..." or even the awkward turtle, so... I find myself thining it at wholly innappropriate times and stifling giggles, because I'm going to hell. But I'm going with the whole RF Crew, so it's okay.
Anyway, after lunch most of us go to see "Old, Out-of-Touch, Anti-War, Peacnik Hippies," which isan amazing two-person, anti-everything-wron-with-America show. Now, there was some awesome Bush-bashing in it, but my favorite two scenes were actually the ones that had nothing to do with Bush and his Administration. "The Church ofChocolate" was an awesome commentary on what religion should be, and the banshee scene (title of which I have forgotten) was an awesome low-key rant about Americans' incessant desire for a happy ending and neat little packages.
Then we went to the Student Union, checked emails, and tried to find a gay bar in Chapel Hill. We sort-of foundone, but all information on it was a few years old, andit seemed like it might be kinda sketch. Theplan when we head back to the dorms is that someone will take the van to the address and scope the place, and we'll go from there. Since Gay barring is still an option, I wash my stripes out and purple-up my hair. (Heh. It's even gayer now than when Norma deemed it such.)
Turns out that the barisin a building that, if not closed down, is totally sketch. I remain a gay bar virgin. I really need to do something about that sometime, eventually, somewhere. Probably. Anyway, we wind up staying in, and declaring Rosemary's rum open for free use since there's still some left after one night. By "we," I mean Bryan, but I accepted his authority on the matter. I had taken my White Cranberry Peach juice down to have between drinks as an alternative to water (Idon't know why, I never use water...), so I decided to see how passion fruit rum wouldmix with that. It was lovely. Dan even had some, mostly non-drinker that he was. I have now sucessfully invented a mixed drink, y'all. My list of life achievements has one box less to tick.
Oh, and we met Rosemary's cop tonight when she got back from her date with him. that's right, cop. The guyshe hooked up with at Players was a twenty-five year-old cop. A tewnty-five year-old cop who is totally awesome. He was sitingina dorm basement, drinking with underage drinkers, and he was not at all thrown by all of the Red Fortress's inside jokes. At least, not visibly. Not even the Iowans, cool though they be, could claim that.
And then bed.
*I really fucking want that shirt!
So. Saturday morning. First round of workshops is, from my point of view, shit. I wakeup for them anyway, though, because I have to go talk to Ellie (the woman running the conference) to see if we can, indeed, get the main stage for our repeat performance. I'm still a little bit drunk from the last night. I inform the Iowans of this, again.
Find Ellie. Get led to a person who has the phone number of the guy who would know if the stage was being used. It's not. We've got the stage. I just fucking bagged the Walking Theatre Project its first on-(real)stage performance since October. I just fucking won at life, because I can never ask anyone for shit, like, EVER. It's a mental block taht I just hammered through like nobodys business.
Wait around for a while for people to start showing up for warm-up. We get in there and the first thing Amanda and Lindsey do is order five of us to go get acting blocks from the room we performed in before, which is understandableof them, but it comes out a bit bitchier than neccesary. Someof the three-day conferencers bitch a bit about the stage being unneccesary, given how few people will be coming to the performance. I stab them in my mind. Nobodyseems to care that I fucking got us a stage. Red Fortress isokayed, as I'd been going on about wanting the stage and I spoke to Ellie and we'd maybe get the stage and wouldn't it be awesome to have the stage? and they were, I'm sure, sickof hearing about me getting the stage, and not likely to show any appreciation. The three-dayers, however, didn't seem to react at all to just having the stage (except to bitch), let alone my acquiring it.
Performance goes well. Amanda and Lindsey don't go on so long when covering what WTP has done (the cover just as much as before, mind, just quicker. Hooray!), and more of us have stuff to say during the Q&A. Plus, the five people we had in the audience were a very good five people to perform for. they knew all sorts of stuff we didn't, and had/were contacts. Plus, oneof them totally made a connection about Michael I had never seen that's quite awesome.
Oh, and the guy Zanny had hooked up with at Players, but was done with after last night? Showed up at our performance. He sat way up and off to teh side, and it was awkward as all fuck.
Lunch! We're too lazy to walk way over to the free food (It's not in the building we were in, but at least five minutes away), because the dorm is closer and it has our groceries in it. We make our lunches and hang out in the basement, and just are having an awesome time. This is when Rosemary tells the "What Do I Do!" story, the result of which is all of us appropriating a mentally disabled kid's actions for our amusement. It's absolutely awful, but it became a better signifierfor awkward situations than either the traditional "AWK-ward..." or even the awkward turtle, so... I find myself thining it at wholly innappropriate times and stifling giggles, because I'm going to hell. But I'm going with the whole RF Crew, so it's okay.
Anyway, after lunch most of us go to see "Old, Out-of-Touch, Anti-War, Peacnik Hippies," which isan amazing two-person, anti-everything-wron-with-America show. Now, there was some awesome Bush-bashing in it, but my favorite two scenes were actually the ones that had nothing to do with Bush and his Administration. "The Church ofChocolate" was an awesome commentary on what religion should be, and the banshee scene (title of which I have forgotten) was an awesome low-key rant about Americans' incessant desire for a happy ending and neat little packages.
Then we went to the Student Union, checked emails, and tried to find a gay bar in Chapel Hill. We sort-of foundone, but all information on it was a few years old, andit seemed like it might be kinda sketch. Theplan when we head back to the dorms is that someone will take the van to the address and scope the place, and we'll go from there. Since Gay barring is still an option, I wash my stripes out and purple-up my hair. (Heh. It's even gayer now than when Norma deemed it such.)
Turns out that the barisin a building that, if not closed down, is totally sketch. I remain a gay bar virgin. I really need to do something about that sometime, eventually, somewhere. Probably. Anyway, we wind up staying in, and declaring Rosemary's rum open for free use since there's still some left after one night. By "we," I mean Bryan, but I accepted his authority on the matter. I had taken my White Cranberry Peach juice down to have between drinks as an alternative to water (Idon't know why, I never use water...), so I decided to see how passion fruit rum wouldmix with that. It was lovely. Dan even had some, mostly non-drinker that he was. I have now sucessfully invented a mixed drink, y'all. My list of life achievements has one box less to tick.
Oh, and we met Rosemary's cop tonight when she got back from her date with him. that's right, cop. The guyshe hooked up with at Players was a twenty-five year-old cop. A tewnty-five year-old cop who is totally awesome. He was sitingina dorm basement, drinking with underage drinkers, and he was not at all thrown by all of the Red Fortress's inside jokes. At least, not visibly. Not even the Iowans, cool though they be, could claim that.
And then bed.
*I really fucking want that shirt!