Wednesday, August 22, 2012

'V' As In Victor

Hey Blog.

So I was just looking at Facebook and noticed a childhood classmate of mine had a baby today. This particular classmate and I share the same name, so growing up we were always Samantha V. and Samantha D. We were never close friends, but we would share the flip bar on the playground and both had a penchant for gymnastics when we were in the first grade. I don't know about what she thinks of me, but I always felt a connection to her; probably because we were the only Samanthas in the whole school. We were variants of the same kind; our last initials the deciding factor between the two of us. So when I see what she's up to on Facebook, part of me feels that the similarities between our names should also exist in our lives.

For awhile there I was feeling like I was behind the times because everyone was getting married and having babies. I still kind of feel like I'm missing out, but I've come to accept that it's not in the cards for me right now. I figured out that I can put my energy elsewhere and be just as, if not more satisfied with what I'm up to right now.

And I have to remember that there is an inane desire in me to somehow stand out from the norm. Everyone is getting married and having babies. Everyone, but me.

Back to Sam. I feel like if I had had the 'D' for my last initial, I'd be the one holding the little bundle of joy who just entered this world. But I have the 'V'. It is my differentiating factor. And while she gave up her maiden 'D' to enter into a life of marriage and motherhood, I'm still holding on to my letter. I'm still Samantha V. And I'm doing my best to make whatever that is my own.

Tuesday, August 21, 2012

I Found That Corner

Look at what my dear sister in law sent to me this evening, Blog:

Trust me. There's meaning behind this.
A full explanation as to why this is so incredibly awesome can be found in a post I made six months ago.

Really this article is just a cherry on top of a very exciting stream of events that have made themselves present in my life over the last 24 hours; one being an invitation I received to be a part of this band. It was something that I totally saw coming, but that didn't stop the elation from taking over me as I listened to Courtney herself offer me a position through a very darling and amusing voicemail. I don't know why I'm acting all star-struck with her. I've improvised with her and stage managed one hell of a Fringe show for her as well. I guess there's something really great about being asked to be a part of a project that I respect and am impressed by. Finally, after so many years of awkwardly sitting on the outskirts of the creative community down here, I'm finding the beginnings of a niche. Granted, I think I've had to let my guard down a little bit in order for it to happen. But it's further proof that a little bit of uncomfort and a lot fear lead to good things if you embrace them and hope for the best in the end.

There's more to say, but my mind is too preoccupied with freaking out with fear and hoping for the best to articulate it. The best I can do is finish this glass of wine and turn in so I can rise and shine for breakfast with Kerin in the morning.

So long...

Tuesday, August 7, 2012


Basically I'm just making it a habit to embed songs I hear on Triple J that I can't add on my Grooveshark or find on iTunes so I can keep track of them somewhere. The plight of being so exclusive with the music I listen to is a difficult one, Blog. As a result, I am the ultimate hipster.

Friday, August 3, 2012

My Yearly Fringe Post

Blog, here are some thoughts I have on the Minnesota Fringe Festival.

1. The Fringe Festival takes over my Facebook newsfeed something fierce every August. It is easy to see the emergence of  the successes and pitfalls that come with everyone's shows. The pitfalls are less noticeable because people tend to not post about bad reviews and sucky shows on Facebook. This allows for the highlighted and confident shows to easily shine to the masses (me). Soon, these successful shows become the Fringe's mainstream and comfort. I don't know what to choose! I shall therefore go to a show I've heard a lot about so I feel safe, even though I know there is a chance that it may not live up to its hype.

2. The Fringe Festival serves as an arena where every theater person in Minneapolis (and beyond) can feel in control of their artistic destiny. Anyone and everyone has the opportunity to act on that brilliant idea that has been cooking in the back of their minds since that breakup/lay-off/mid-life crisis/end of college. The masses must know the brilliance that lies within your civilians, Minneapolis! The masses must keep incredibly tight schedules to experience it! The masses must be subject to the potential confusion that abounds with copious amounts of inside theater jokes brought to the stage in an attempt to entertain said masses!

3. The Fringe Festival is a popularity contest where the winners are determined by Matthew Everett, the Fringe blogger I never really hear about during the other 55 weeks of the year. Who are you Matthew? I should know as I was on your public access TV show once, and yet I don't. You emerge with your critical eye every August and sink back into the arts oblivion just as the Perseids reach their peak. A mystery you are to me, Mr. Everett. I fear I may never solve you... or your mother.

4. The Fringe Festival reminds me of how wonderful and awful theater can be. It's like a drug and I am its addict. You can ride the emotional high from a performance well done for only so long until your conscious sinks back into a rut of self scrutiny. Even the most confident performers have second thoughts about how great their shows are. Maybe I'm making that up... no I'm not. I don't care if your last name starts with "Scrim" and ends with "shaw". There's no way in hell you can feel 100% awesome about your show at all times. Not when there are critics running rampant with a rating system and review venue at their fingertips. Not when they know they have the power to dash dreams if dreams deserved to be dashed.

5. The Fringe Festival is the one time a year when the theater community comes together in a way where everyone is special. Everyone gets to put on a play. Everyone gets to be a critic. Everyone can see a show, and everyone can get drunk and bitch about it afterwards. Everyone gets caught up in the hype. Everyone wants to impress and be impressed. Everyone wants to limit the amount they allow themselves to be impressed because everyone has been given the opportunity to show off their superior theater chops, whether it be on stage or in the audience. And everyone who is anyone knows that superior theater chops are reflected by being difficult to impress.

I love/hate the Minnesota Fringe Festival. It stirs emotions within my soul and as we have covered before, Blog, I know not how to deal with feelings. They make me uncomfortable and confused. Tragically, they also make me feel alive, and this is why I'm drawn to the ridiculousness year after year.

With that, my entry pertaining to the Fringe Festival is complete for 2012. Previous entries; good, bad, and ugly can be found here, here, and here. My first taste of it can be found here. Don't judge, Blog. I didn't know what I was talking about.

Time to go hate myself for loving this so much.

Wednesday, August 1, 2012

Mini Vacation Plans

I leave for a long weekend in Chicago one month from yesterday, Blog. I love when I plan a trip and then forget about it only to remember it a couple weeks later. It's kind of like when you get something in the mail that you ordered online; it doesn't feel like a purchase, but more a gift that you've given yourself. I guess that's what most shopping is anyway. Gifts from you, to you. It's kind of like me and you, Blog. (Since you're really just an extension of me anyway) How about that?

For some reason it's weird to think that I haven't been to Chicago in over 4 years. I've never frequented Chicago, but at the same time I've always thought it to be easily accessible since it's about as far away from me as Finley is. Just a hop, skip, and a jump down the road by my standards. An easy 8 hour train or bus ride. Or even better, a cheap and quick hour and a half flight. I feel like I've been there many more times than I actually have.

Last time I was down there, Ryan and I took the train to experience the drinking and traipsing around that ended up being the majority of our relationship. I should have seen it then, but I think I was preoccupied by the bean and green river. Shiny things and colored water tend to be my weaknesses.

My rendition of the ultimate distraction.

This time I hope to see the sites and enjoy a beach. I also am excited because this time I'll be visiting Will, who has lived in Chicago for a couple years now and knows his way around. I've never been to this city with someone who knows its ins and outs quite so well. I hope to do more than just get drunk and chat up other random drunks. Although don't get me wrong, I am certainly glad to make a night of it. But there is so much more to do there than drink.

Like, I don't know...

See a show.

Ride the ferris wheel at Navy Pier.

Visit the Sears Tower (including the crazy balcony thing that I have dared myself to edge up to if we make it to the observatory)

See the animals in the zoo.

Ride the El.

Get into a gang fight.

Pretend my last name ends in "ski" (i.e. Veldhouski).

Eat a special hotdog that has a bunch of Chicago ingredients on it.

Oh man! I missed out last time! I'm certainly going to have a full schedule for Will to live up to. That, and it will be Labor Day Weekend and after doing a little googling, I've learned there is going to be a jazz festival and fireworks too. He'd better get cracking and start preparing for my arrival. It certainly has potential to be quite the mini vacation.

My first time in the Windy City back in aught five. My hair goes well with your moniker, Chicago.