![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
It gets all the right heart strings. For a lot of reasons.
When I graduate from theatre school, I would love to somehow find a way to apprentice with the Old Trouts.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dN0A0ZSf
We are performing tonight!
Nerves and Butterfly's Oh My!
This is what happens during my days that keeps me from talking to you, the inter-void:
Puppets: including, but not limited to - rehearsing, building, fixing, choreographing, designing, paper mache-ing, glue-is-everywhere, stapling, stringing, collapsing-behind-the-hand-puppet-stage-a
Dishes: obscene amounts of mugs litter the kitchen, I drink a lot of tea.
Recycling: There is a formidable FORT of recycling on the fire escape, blocking any tenant on the fourth floor from ever considering using the fire escape for its intended purpose. (Naturally, the building of this fort is what keeps me from talking to you)
Conversation between you and me, dear internet, will resume after the puppets have performed their shows.
Step step rock step step step rock-step freak-out-cause-your-being-twirled step rock-step step step.
It was a great deal of fun.
The occasion was a friend from Ottawa was visiting, and her cousin is dating the guy that owns the swing club. Its strange. I used to go camping with Melissa (the Ottawa friend) and her cousin when we were all something like 14 or 15. And now we're 20. Those are a long 5 years.
So I'm going to clean my room like any good subject of OCD. (Don't worry, I am not that neighbour who uses the vacuum cleaner at this hour of the night. Because we do not have a vacuum cleaner in this apartment).
And because I have the internet at my disposal (which is, now that I think about it, a saying that does not make sense in this circumstance, as I cannot dispose of the ether), I am going to document my progress:
That is my nest. It's where I sleep.
This is reflective of my mental state.
ONE POINT 5 HOURS LATER:
Here is a bed. This was a surprise to me also. (In the corner you can see my Menomena poster and Bread and Puppet poster! Also, my nightstand is home to a dinosaur.)
And there is the floor!
The things I unearthed during The Excavation:
A 30 $ gift certificate to HMV
A banana (squished)
A sock that seems to have followed me upstairs from the laundry room (as neither myself nor my roommate wear socks THAT big)
A glue gun
A dragon
A calendar from Ireland
A 12 string guitar
An archery case
Thank you for the motivation Internet! I can officially pass out in my reclaimed bed.
- Mood:
accomplished
I am Brave Brave Sir Robin.
Being eaten by a minstrel would be an easy way out of this. (Wait, that is the opposite of what happens).
I have never felt quite as motivated as I do now with regards to school and the direction of my academic life.
.
I'm trying to apply for exchange. I'm trying to finish an incomplete grade before the exchange deadline (giving me a likelier chance of being accepted). I'm trying to stay on top of all my current homework. I'm trying to build a circus. Out of cardboard.
On a totally unrelated note, here is a graffiti-unicorn on the building next to mine. It is my favourite vandalism in all of NDG.
She is a bit overshadowed by that, uh, shadow. But my walk to the dollar store is THAT much better because of her.
- Music:Cat Power
I want to remember university as a place where I could drink wine, paper mache clay masks, and listen to my friends drum and sing (whilst I play kazoo) and receive credit for it. .....!
- Mood:stunned
Set Design Prof: Here you can see a bird's eye view of the floor plan. Why do you think they call it a bird's eye view?
Claire's Brain: Because birds have greater periferal vision? Because their eyes are located on the sides of their heads? Where is the bird in relation to the map? Is the bird in the center? He can't be, because then we wouldn't see the floor plan behind the centre, which means the bird must be at the bottom of the floor plan, flying INTO the theatre, which means that the entire thing is drawn NOT to scale, because the bird's depth perception will vary depending on where he is in space.
And this is why it is extremely problematic to raise your children by letting them watch Monty Python and the Holy Grail instead of reading them bedtime stories DAD.
THEN WHY AM I IN CANANDA?!
A word to the wise, snow heightens emotion.
Something is changing! Something is. I sound different, I feel different. Well, truthfully, I feel dehydrated (its a very dry appartment), but my life is suddenly getting exciting.
I had one of the worst days of this semester about a week ago. Going into the metro, I got a 150$ fine for, well, trying to take the metro, with an expired bus pass ID. I didn't know it was expired, I felt tricked, humiliated, enraged, hopeless. I was so angry at myself for being such an incompetent human being. I cried, I called home, I calmed down.
By then I was 40 minutes late for a casting. I went back into the metro, cried a bit more, pulled myself together. Again. (I fall apart easily). I got all the way out to D'Iberville, and then got lost. Walked in the wrong direction twice before choosing the right direction at a four way intersection. Made it to the casting, met the client, put on my heels, fell. I fell while doing my walk. You know, "the walk." I scuffed up the floor. Landed on my butt. It was Humiliating.
Left the casting, tail between my legs, head down. Felt like I wasted 3 hours of my life and 150$ of my money. If it weren't for the casting, I wouldnt have taken the metro, if it werent for the metro ticket, I wouldn't have been upset, if I wasn't upset, I wouldn't have fallen. The conclusion being: the only way to live life is simply not to.
A couple days ago I heard back from my agency, I got the job.
Today I heard back from my director, our SIPA proposal has been accepted.
A couple days from now (9 to be exact) I will be in Ireland.
My life is getting exciting.
My friend's and I are doing a community arts project for class, and we've started a facebook group called Note To Self where you post a message to your Younger Self.
It's been active for one day and already we have 10 submissions. http://www.facebook.com/group.php?gid=45
I am so excited about this project. The spontaneous art and poetry that is coming out of everyone is beautiful. I'm plugging it here in my livejournal, which is probably kind of silly because the only person that reads this is already a collaborator with me on the project!
I absolutely do not have the time to go and see Calexico and Cuff the Duke tonight, I have too much homework to do this evening, a performance piece due on Tuesday, and test on Moliere and Shakespeare Wednesday.
Hm. It didn't work. I appear to still be going. Next time, I should try reverse psychology, because clearly the guilt trip didn't work.
EDIT:
Wow. I'm so glad I went. That was a ridiculously good show, Calexico are incredible live. (And yet despite this, the crowd of indie kids did what they always do, and simply stood there, unmoving. Oh wait no, there was some hand clapping.) I liked the band before the concert, especially their EP In The Reins they did with Iron and Wine, but now I am much more a fan. Their set was solid, the post-rock-style-distortion with latin-american influenced singing, trumpets and guitar style, wow. Not to mention The National here in Montreal always puts on a great lights show. The last show I saw at the same venue was Do Make Say Think, and The National spared nothing when it came to backing up the wall of sound with a wall of light and colour resulting in epic-ly silhoutted musicians.
Annnnnnd now I will do a lot of homework. Yikes.
I can't get ahold of one of my D&D players, and without her I've only got two PCs, so it looks like we have to cancel. But instead, the two remaining players and I have opted for a BATTLESTAR GALLACTICA MARATHON in the place of D&D!
I have amazing friends.
- Mood: cheerful
I met a girl on the train coming home from Toronto yesterday. We talked about lots of things, the things you end up telling strangers that you meet on 6 hour train rides (read: love).
Then she invited me out to see her boyfriend's band Jtadi play at Les Bobards on St. Laurent. And we danced until 2 in the morning to amazing francophone-gypsy-rock.
The neat thing about all of this is that I traded my ticket with someone from another train car so he could sit with his friend, and thats how I ended up dancing the night away.
Tonight was an amazing night. Tonight is one of those nights where you will remember where you were. Not because you're necessarily anywhere spectacular, but the night Barack Obama was elected is going to be a “where were you” occasion.
Rio, my roommate, Dave, a friend of ours, and I, all went to the Maz. One of three bars within walking distance from our apartment in the notre-dame-de-grace area of Montreal. We got there and the polls were 207 to 95. Then they were 207 to 135, and we waited with baited breath.
Then suddenly, 45 mintues later, it was 333 to 135, and Obama was president.
We drank and cheers-ed the other tables in the bar.
We watched, slightly drunk in near rapture as Obama give his speech. Rio called her girlfriend, Dave called Carmen, I called my mom.
We left the bar, and stood outside for a time, drinking in the night air and conversely smoking. We met a graffiti artist who traded us beautiful cardboard art for a beer. He handed me a painting he’d done, he spoke rather quickly, explaining the painting, saying it was of a “really tough Indian girl I slept with once. I don’t even remember sex before her. She murdered someone you know. I don’t know why I drew her break dancing, but you can have it.“
The world seems different. Even if just because a prolonged state of collective hope is something so un-experienced in everyday life that it makes the buildings and the cars and the lights seem a different colour.
We went out for donuts, and have decided only to eat cheerio’s and bagels tomorrow. An “O”bama diet, if you will.
- Mood:Awe
Me: I hate how facebook has all these adds for fake diets showing pictures of skinny girls. Facebook knows I want to look like them.
Roomates gf: Yeah, I get those adds too, but that's cause facebook knows I like to look at hot bitches.
And there you have it. That is an excerpt of my life.
Because it is HALLOWEEN, and also because just now, 5 minutes ago, I booked my flight to Ireland.
I actually am incapable of telling you how stupid-out-of-my-head-excited I am. Well, not really, I suppose if I really tried it would look like this:
OMFGWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
- Mood:
ecstatic
And I have no time to talk because I gotta be outta here in 5 minutes to get to the mask workshop I'm part of (today we are painting our masks! This is an overwhelming amount of pressure! What if I don't like the way I make it look?) Wednesdays are busy. Earlier today I told my storytelling class a Syrian fairy tale about a She-Ghoul, failed a Quiz in Theatre History, and got kicked off a bus for not having enough change (and then i cried about it - I was already late for class).
Tommorow I leave for Ottawa then I leave for Oshawa to celebrate Turkey Day with family!
- Mood:
busy
Claire shuffles barefoot into her small galley kitchen, thumbs hooked through the cuffs of the ratty second hand sweater she got from the swap shop, she reaches for the green-silver tea pot. Laying her fingertips upon the baloon-like belly of the pot she feels its remaining warmth, and she sighs, from deep in the back of her throat, a strange place to sigh from considering she commonly speaks lazy-nasal-tip-of-the-tongue Canadian. Shuffling over to the fridge, she cracks the door open, and light spills across the dog-kibble-decorated tiles. Noting a lack of milk in the fridge, she mutters:
Nawnn, j'besoin deh lait.
Wait what?
Where did that come from?
I'm kidding. I know why my brain has risidual French Canadian chatter looping through it. But I'm pressed for time, and its a bit of a long story. The interesting part of it all is I never realized how much my brain replays the things people say, even if I don't understand them. I am not thinking in French. But my thoughts sound French. I am matching my thoughts to english words to give them form, and in the background noise of my brain, my thoughts are being paired up with the intonation the French language would lend to them. I would have never noticed with english.
- Mood:perplexed
