Wednesday, March 21, 2012

Theater Needs to Keep Happening

Blog, I've neglected you. For that I'm sorry. I've been busy, see. I've been out and about. I've been working in box offices. I've been drinking with interns. I've been eating questionable deviled eggs.

I know. It's obvious. I went to a Jungle party.

Sigh. Jungle party. It's really the only thing to call it and yet it sounds incredibly offensive. Legend has it that Bain was on some sort of acid trip in the 70s (maybe 60s) and had a hallucination of a majestic jungle where theater apparently took place. He then made it into a reality by opening a theater, decorating it with trees and tassels, and naming it The Jungle.

Oh, you don't know who Bain is Blog? Well this should clear that up (he's the one on the right)...

What? You're not familiar with Bain's cameo as Mr. Mohra in the movie Fargo? Tragedy! Well, you'll also be glad to know he won this award back in '09. Sure, it sounds like a whatever kind of deal, but he got fifty grand out of it. Naturally he put it back into the Jungle by painting the walls of the theater red and green. And no, it doesn't look like Christmas in there at all. This sounds like sarcasm. It's not.

Bain is the epitome of the incompetent, strange, and overbearing artist who somehow turns out amazing work... like fitting a giant plant in his tiny apartment and having it be ok.
Bain's vision went into effect on Sunday when the Jungle's most current show Dial M for Murder closed. Of course he had to put on a closing night party to celebrate a successful run. Of course I had to attend.

I actually had a chance to stop by the theater Sunday afternoon to pick up a bottle of wine, because, well, you know... I like wine and the Jungle sells bottles of it to their employees on days when liquor stores don't. I may have timed my visit to fall during the second act so I could say hello to my concession and box office friends. Bain was there too; "exhausted" from all the planning he had done for the party that was to take place in his home later that evening. Sitting in an office chair, he went on and on about how "brutal" it all was. But the deviled eggs were going to be delicious. There was going to be plenty of wine. There was going to be a patio. For some reason everyone else was hungover, and he melodramatically showed us his concern by telling of his hopes for us "sparkling" for the party. I promised sequins and was a little sad when I showed up later that night with just a jeweled headband in my hair. He accepted it and offered me a chocolate.

It's funny that there is such a similarity found between the theater parties I attended in college and the one I attended as an adult on Sunday night. Half the guests were twice my age, and still there was the same vying for attention, witty banter, and of course odd sexual tension amongst, well, everyone. And what I mean by sexual tension is random group hugs and sitting on laps and intense conversations about how you were inspired to pursue the performing arts during your formative years. Also people like this guy might hit on you and do their best to be charming while you sit back and allow yourself to schmooze away just for the hell of it. It's what I thought I was going to get when I started doing improv back in 2007, but it never ended up that way. Attending a party like the one I did on Sunday night reaffirms that theater is what I need to keep in my life one way or another.

I swooned over the Jungle a couple months back when I started working there again. Four months later it makes me a little sad that I had put it out of my life for two whole years. What fun I've missed! I also feel incredibly lucky to have gotten back into such a lovely and strange group of people since they don't just have concession openings available for anyone. As a result, I got to attend a good old fashioned theater party complete with actorly schmoozing, physical domination (in the form of an impromptu yoga competition), and group hugs. It was fucking glorious.

Yes, the description of this party deserves an F-bomb.

Some of my Jungle brethren complete with intern, designer, actor, and of course concessionaires.

Saturday, March 10, 2012

Close Harmonies Are Taking Over

I can't shower you with enough close harmonies as of late, Blog. I'm glad that you love them as much as I do:

That and the moment at 2:09 is exactly what I want to do every time I find myself surrounded by strangers preparing to start a giant paint orgy in an alleyway.

That is all for this Saturday evening. So long.

Thursday, March 8, 2012

Where's That Corner I Need to Turn?

Blog, you need some sprucing up. I've been way too down way too much lately. It's time to bring the life back to you. While you are a very theraputic tool in getting this temporary depression out of my mind and onto the world's screen, I cannot dwell for too long.

With that, this song willl be playing for the duration of this entry, in part because of my continued penchant for close harmonies:

If I were smart, I would have embedded this video because it's awesome to watch, but alas, Vimeo escapes me at this point in my life.

Anyway, now that we've got that underway Blog, we can go anywhere. Or at least I can. You're unfortunately stuck on the internet for the rest of time... until I bite the bullet and print you out into a poorly-written and sporatic manuscript to avoid losing you in the impending internet apocolypse.

Two things I'm contemplating on doing with my life:

That last acronym stands for OMG I can't believe I'm thinking about going back to school. I've been jaded towards the idea of education for so long mainly because of its incredible cost and my day to day interactions with people who seem to have been fooled into pursuing a dream by the means of a faulty program that is encased in red tape. I have to remind myself that they are of a certain population of people who think they know what they want and then react with the easy way out by rashly giving a corporation thousands of dollars for nothing in return because they know not how to invest in themselves (i.e. The "you've got my money, now why would I have to work for this degree?" mentality).

I do not have that mentality. School scares the shit out of me, so if I went for it I'd probably do alright since fear is the driving factor of most of my successes. If I'm not scared, I'm bored and if I'm bored, I go slightly insane and start contemplating giant life decisions like going back to school or...

2. Getting a working holiday visa for Australia so I could live there for a year.
Here I go again running away from my problems (or perhaps despair) by spontaneously pursuing my longing to live not in the Midwest. I've always had this desire and now that I'm suddenly in the latter part of my twenties my reaction to it has grown to be quite a dramatic one. What used to be Chicago, is now Sydney. I happened upon this particular visa the other day during an internet search regarding traveling to Australia that I had started purely for entertainment purposes. It has since developed into a life option. The visa is only available to those between the ages of 18 and 30 which makes me feel like I'm running out of time which makes me scared which, as I mentioned above, drives my success. It's a ridiculous idea at this point, but is also one that could get me somewhere interesting (literally).

Two things. That's all I have. Two giant things. I don't know if either of them will ever come to fruition, but it's nice to have something to think about besides how sad I am all the time.

Tuesday, March 6, 2012

Getting All Hipster With an Entry About Relevent Music...

I used to run along the edge of Lake Calhoun over the summer time, listening to The Current and watching the sun set. I would watch all of the couples and groups of friends walking and running and sitting and swimming in the hot summer evenings and would feel a dull and familiar jealousy take over. It was a hopeful jealousy and as I could feel it gnawing at me, I would look up to the sky at the airplanes overhead and daydream about the people they were carrying away from the city. I would wonder where they were going; who they were going to see; if they were crying or if they were happy. I'd lose myself in their made-up lives and compare my own anticipation with theirs. And it was a good anticipation. I was one of the happy passengers. I was going to be on one of those planes soon enough to see the person I would be able to walk and run and sit and swim with. I knew I wouldn't be alone for long.

But then something changed even though I didn't want it to. And one day after one of those planes had carried me back to this city, I looked up and my heart sank. A song I had never heard before came on the radio and the lyrics told me a truth I didn't want to believe. My gaze returned to the path in front of me and for the first time in a long time, the dull and familiar jealousy left me with an unfamiliar presence and calm.

This is that song:

The jealousy is back in full force now. It is no longer dull, it is no longer familiar. Instead it follows me; jabbing at moments that occur just when I think it's left me alone. I don't know what else to do but turn this song on its head and make myself believe that one day it won't be there anymore and that I'll be one of the hopeful and happy ones again. I am tired of this and I want it to be over.

Thursday, March 1, 2012

You Wish This Was Part Three, Don't You

Ok Blog, I'm done with the Craig's List ads. I promise. First of all, your formatting gets all weird when I try copying and pasting the numerous responses from my old hotmail account. Secondly, there is part of me that feels violated by all the email I've received over the past couple days regarding vomit and desires of getting to know me. Thirdly, there is guilt a-brewing for not responding to any of the various suitors who came a-knocking at my internet door. I understand I have entirely put myself in this situation (especially with the vomit part) so I will take responsibility and no longer complain. It was a good experiment to have play out. It also gave me a fun thing to blog about. But I can't do it anymore. I. Just. Can't.

I will continue on in a self-focused fashion and will allow whatever happens to happen.

With that, I ordered a case for my phone last week and it finally came in the mail today. It is beautiful and for some reason makes me ridiculously happy. I'm not sure why I'm so elated about it. It might have something to do with the fact that my main motivation for getting an iPhone was so that I could cover it up with fun art. And as we all know, sea life and rainbows are amazing; hence my opting to decorate my mobile device with a colorful squid.

I also started a Twitter account and have no idea how it works or what the point of it is. Since I'm totally in the dark about the whole thing, that's all I really have to say about it.

I had a million other things I wanted to mention here Blog, but now that I'm sat down with my glass of wine and Triple J playing in the background, I for the life of me can't remember what any of those things were. I know I wanted to embed this song I can't stop listening to on repeat. I love me a catchy beat and close harmonies:

I guess I could mention that I'm going to the Azores in a couple months. But it's a bit far off and I haven't even purchased all the airfare necessary for the trip yet, so it's something that I'm not really into writing about at the moment. I like writing about the here and now, Blog. Unfortunately, it turns out that nothing is happening here nor now.

I suppose this lack of zest for articulating anything that's going on with me is a sign that I need to go to bed. I've spent the last two nights up way too late blogging about strangers trying too hard to catch my eye via email. It is time to accept the bad taste that has been left in my mouth by the entire experience and retire to my chamber that is also my living room and kitchen and study. Oh the joys of studio living...