Another Brick in the Wall

Every so often, when I’m reading the blogs of people who have children, at some point someone always brings up the fact that it would be great if schools should be in session all year round - so working parents don’t have to arrange for extra activities and child care for their children.

Every time I read that, I always think, “Were you EVER a kid? Did you forget what it’s like? Did YOU want to be in school all year long?” I mean, I barely want to work all year long, but that’s only because I have to . . . that’s the only way they’ll pay me . . .

I know that I am not a mother yet and that I may change my tune once I have little darlings of my own. But I’ve always looked at the summer as a time to not be so scheduled, a time to do lots of exploration on your own, to read whatever you want, when you want, without having to fit it in with homework and other scheduled activities. Summer is a time when you discover the joy of learning outside the classroom – where you discover that you don’t have to be guided by teachers and you can dig deep into the things in which you are most interested. Summer is a time when you learn how to be bored and learn how to use your imagination to entertain yourself.

When I was little during the summer, my mom would take me to the library once every week or so and I would just load up on all sorts of books and spend the rest of the week just plowing through each one. The summers that my mom was working, my sister and I would spend time at the babysitter’s and occasionally we’d go to the park or the waterslides. We watched a lot of TV too, as us children of the 70’s and 80’s often did, but it wasn’t that big of a deal. It was awesome to not have to worry about things being due, to stay up late, to be so unstructured! My parents didn’t have a lot of money for enrichment activities as some people do now, but I wouldn’t have traded my periods of laziness and boredom for anything.

I still think of the summertime as sacred, a time when I put a hold on volunteering and doing the eight million “should dos” that I set up for myself over the course of the year, and just do whatever strikes my fancy. I read more, I cook more, I go to a few more fun things (thus my rampant play-going) – it’s just a nice break from the usual grind in the middle of the year. Why shouldn’t we keep that alive? Why does everyone have to be on the treadmill all of the time? Why do we want our children to get used to structure and regimentation so young? There's plenty of time in your life to learn that! That’s the best thing about being a kid – your time is your own! You have the space to be bored and to think and to be creative.

Because if you have that experience of freedom under your belt, you tend to want to keep making that time for yourself . . . and you find ways to do so. Some people even get creative enough to be able to do it all year long and still earn a living that isn’t soul sucking. That’s certainly MY goal . . .

But, to get back to my original rant, I hate the idea of having school year round. I know it makes it easier for the parents, but what will it mean for the future generations of kids? We are starting to see some of the consequences of that now – kids with impressive resumes but who can barely make a move without their parents’ guidance. I want my kids to learn that you don’t have to be in school to learn – that life is your schoolroom and there is always more to see and read and do and imagine on your own.

I just feel like sometimes that message isn’t out there anymore and it’s being smothered by the need to read by the time you’re five and to know what you want to do by the time you are finished high school, so you can go to college and get a decent paying job by the time you’re 21 or 22. That life is just this straight line from pre-school to elementary school to middle school to college to the work world and then spend fifty years working until you are either lucky enough to retire for a few years or until you then get sick and die. I want there to be another message out there that there’s another way. That you may not become rich, but that life can be fun and interesting and rewarding and full of constant learning and growing . . .

At this point, I don’t know what I’m saying . . . it’s all still jumbled up in my brain. You know those rants where people build up a head of steam and then forget where they are going? Yeah, that’s what’s going on here . . .

Do you know what I’m getting at, though? I do hope so . . .

Five Random Reasons

CS had this meme on her blog, which I wasn’t sure if I did before, but thought I’d do anyway. My memory sucks and I’m too lazy to comb through the archives . . .

Five Reasons Why I Blog

Procrastination

I find I write my best blog posts when I am supposed to be doing something else. It’s amazing how many great ideas spring forth, how eloquent I can get, when I’m supposed to be doing some highly tedious and/or annoying task. Like right now, for example . . .

Community

I adore the people who come visit my blog. You all lead such interesting and varied lives, and I learn so much from you all. It also seems to be a rather small blog world – it seems when looking through people’s blogrolls I more often than not recognize a blog or two that I read regularly.

Exercising my writing muscles

I have never been able to keep up a journal in real life, so this space is an opportunity to practice the art of writing, a place for me to find my voice . . . whatever that may be . . .

Ego

I must admit that it is king of cool to have people read what I write – and then come back for more. Wow! I may actually have something interesting to say once in a while!

Catharsis/Free Therapy

I lot of times I am trying to work things out in my head, and sometimes it helps to put tangible words to what I’m feeling and put it out there in the world. In my real life, I am horrible about stating what I want and what I am feeling – I tend to defer to others: What do you want? How do you feel? How can I make it better for you? What do you need help with? So when I am not happy, when I want something, I feel . . . I guess . . . horrible . . . about stating a preference. I have to get over that, because I’m not going to progress unless I figure out what will make me happy. It’s a balancing act though – you don’t want to be too selfish and ignore the needs of those close to you, while at the same time you have to stand up for yourself. It is a struggle for me – a struggle that I guess I’m documenting here.

Sometimes it may seem like I’m saying the same stuff over and over (and I probably am), but it is necessary until I finally get certain things into my thick skull and internalize them, and then either fix them or quit bitching about them.

So that’s me for today! If anyone wants to do this meme, have at it.

I’m Sooooo Confused . . .

I’ve been feeling rather vulnerable and needy lately. Well, I usually AM very vulnerable and needy, if you’ve read my blog for a while, but really . . . these days I’ve felt even more keenly so.

There seems to be a perfect storm of things going on around me and with me – time for me to “fish or cut bait” in a number of areas at the same time, and it is all so overwhelming.

Mr. Random was in a car accident on Saturday – no one was injured, but it was scary just the same. The Random car is banged up a bit, but luckily it is built like a tank despite its comparatively smallish size.

I finally heard about something I had applied for a few months ago, and the answer I received was not what something I expected. It is an answer that leaves me in limbo, scrambling to figure out what to do and how this decision affects my plans for the fall. I cannot make any other plans until this is sorted out, however, the uncertainty at the Random Non-profit makes another part of my life quite iffy too.

There is too, too much going on right now – too much change . . . too many decisions that have too many possible consequences. I’m scared and confused and tired . . .

I thank both Mr. Random and my friend J for putting up with me and listening to my angst, even when they’d like to strangle me. I have not been easy to live with the past few days, and I realize that. I am trying to not dump all my problems on others, but at the same time it is really difficult to try to figure these things out on one’s own. I want to make sure I’m doing the right thing, you know? I want to know that I’m not going completely bonkers.

Sometimes I get really depressed, I’m so overwhelmed with the choices before me. I do realize that I am lucky to even HAVE choices, but it is still hard to deal with. I am hoping that this is just a rough stage in my life, and once I push through it, everything will be OK for while . . .

Or, I may just be delusional. That’s an option too . . .

OK, this is a post that probably made no sense, but I did feel compelled to write it. It does help to put all of this stuff out in the ether sometimes. Tomorrow, I will be back to my normal randomness and kvetching, I promise.

Fringe Experience: Part 2

My friend J and I went to see another Fringe Festival play on Sunday – a production of Ben Jonson’s Volpone. Ben Jonson was a contemporary of Shakespeare and since we had seen so many Shakespeare plays this season, we decided it might be interesting to see something else written in this time period.

The production was quite disappointing – they cut out what must have been large chucks of the original play, they “updated” the language – supposedly to make it easier for the audience to understand, the set was much too small for the size of the stage, and the acting was quite dreadful. This play did last the entire two hours allotted, with a 15 minute intermission, so there was no reprieve to be found as the play dragged on.

There were, however, two unexpected bright spots from the experience . . .

The first was the theater itself. The theater is nestled almost storefront-like in the middle of a decaying block in the middle of Northeast DC. Once you walk inside, you see how spacious the interior actually is. The main theater is rather big, with stadium seating and moderately plush seats. It is a great venue since there doesn’t seem to be a bad seat in the house. I’ll have to keep a look out for future productions in this area.

The second? Oh my, that would have to be the chatty gentleman who sat in the row in front of us at the theater. This pale, balding man cornered the poor gentleman sitting next to him with his dissection of many of the plays he had seen in the past few weeks and what he had been expecting, how the scripts didn’t work, how the scripts would have been made better, etc . . . in a rather loud voice. It was like the scene in Annie Hall, where Woody and Diane Keaton are standing in the movie line in front of a blowhard fellow who is regaling his friend with his dissection of media theories and obviously didn’t know what he was talking about, so Woody grabbed Marshall McLuren himself to tell the guy to please shut up. So our guy kept talking and J kept laughing and I kept trying to distract J to keep from laughing too loudly, which would cause the guy to turn around. It turns out that this guy is actually a visual arts critic who also teaches . . . and we could tell from the way he seemed to enjoy lecturing to anyone he was speaking. He stopped when the play started, thankfully . . . or not, depending how you felt about the play itself . . .

So that was our brief sojourn into the Fringe for this year . . . J is actually thinking about doing a one person show next year – I mean, given what we saw this year, ANYBODY can do a show – so after the play was over we started looking into what needed to happen to sign up for next time. The information won’t be available for a little while, so we’ll keep checking back every so often. I think it would be AWESOME beyond words if J could do one, and I think J would be a smashing success. I tried to talk J into it last year, but after our experiences this year, it cemented J’s resolve.

Maybe next year I’ll have more stories about the whole process of putting on a show . . . wouldn’t that be cool, huh?!?

Fringe Experience: Part 1

Last night, my friend J and I went to see a DC Fringe Festival play, The Misanthrope, which was supposed to be a “modern update” of the Moliere play. A friend of J’s was going to be in this production, which is one of the reasons we picked that particular Fringe event to go to.

The venue was at a tavern in the Northeast quadrant of the city, in a “transitional” neighborhood – let’s say just like Logan Circle or U Street, circa 1995. (This reference will probably mean nothing to anyone outside the DC area.) Venue was located just down the street from a place called “Cluck-U-Chicken” . . .

So we go into this tiny tavern, which actually seems like a very homey-type pub. The place has a New Orleans theme with lots of red and black and Mardi Gras trinkets lining the walls. The play doesn’t start for another hour and we are starving, so we ask about their dinner menu. They are supposed to have several fine dishes of Louisiana cuisine, but at this point in the day, they only have a few sandwiches and some gumbo left. However, the barkeep raved about the gumbo, so we gave it a try. Of course, it was the worst gumbo we’ve ever had – watery and bland YET overly spicy too – but we were so hungry we’d have eaten anything at that point.

The room for the performance was up a winding flight of very rickety stairs. It was a cool small space though, with a small stage in front with a mike and speakers. Also on the teeny stage was a podium, a stack of TV sets and a recliner. Looked pretty low budget, but hey, it’s the Fringe! Anything goes!

There were about 30 folding chairs set up in the dark, tiny room. As 8 pm approached, the room was actually getting pretty full. As 8 pm passed, we were getting a little restless.

At around 8:15, a tall, dark-haired man walked up to the stage, stood at the podium, and started talking.

The story was thus: He talked about how 9 months ago he started to write an adaptation of the play, and was really excited, and then he broke his wrist. It took several months to heal only after which he could start writing. He finally finished a rudimentary script . . . then he had problems finding actors. He then finally found some actors, but then he couldn’t find any rehearsal spaces. Once he was able to find a rehearsal space, none of the actors’ schedules would mesh to have a full rehearsal, so he had to meet with each actor separately and run over all of the parts with each of them. While doing this, he found he was having trouble with some of the actors. For example, one of the characters gets strangled during the play, but whenever he would practice strangling the guy, the guy would always start giggling. Um, that wouldn’t do . . . so finally he gave up on the production altogether. He did however, want to share the story of what happens when you try to take a play idea and shepherd it to fruition and how sometimes that just doesn’t work out . . .

His whole monologue took about 25 minutes. When he was done, he walked off the stage and left the room. We all sat there wondering was this the end? Was it intermission? Shortly thereafter, the house lights went up and we all got up and either hung out in the bar area or, as J and I did, just left. (We then went to IHOP to eat because we were still really hungry after trying to eat the horrible gumbo.)

The thing about this is . . . the playwright’s little monologue was actually pretty entertaining. He acted out some of the scenes of the play he was trying to write. He was pretty personable. We laughed at parts. We all paid attention with the full sprit of the Fringe: withholding judgment, waiting to see how the experiment played out, going with the flow.

Plus the tickets were only $5: I’m sure if we paid more, there would have been bloody heck to pay. J is going to talk to the friend and find out what happened – when he told J about the play a month ago, presumably the cast was still practicing in good faith . . .

I can honestly say that was the most “Fringe”-type production I’ve ever been to, other than the costume-free Macbeth.

I am really looking forward to the Fringe play we’re going to see on Sunday . . . Nothing can surprise me now!

Friday Random Song in My Head

Birdhouse in Your Soul
Music and Lyrics by They Might Be Giants

I'm your only friend
I'm not your only friend
But I'm a little glowing friend
But really I'm not actually your friend
But I am

Blue canary in the outlet by the light switch
Who watches over you
Make a little birdhouse in your soul
Not to put too fine a point on it
Say I'm the only bee in your bonnet
Make a little birdhouse in your soul

I have a secret to tell
From my electrical well
It's a simple message and I'm leaving out the whistles and bells
So the room must listen to me
Filibuster vigilantly
My name is blue canary one note spelled l-i-t-e
My story's infinite
Like the Longines Symphonette it doesn't rest

Blue canary in the outlet by the light switch
Who watches over you
Make a little birdhouse in your soul
Not to put too fine a point on it
Say I'm the only bee in your bonnet
Make a little birdhouse in your soul

I'm your only friend
I'm not your only friend
But I'm a little glowing friend
But really I'm not actually your friend
But I am

There's a picture opposite me
Of my primitive ancestry
Which stood on rocky shores and kept the beaches shipwreck free
Though I respect that a lot
I'd be fired if that were my job
After killing Jason off and countless screaming Argonauts
Bluebird of friendliness
Like guardian angels it's always near

Blue canary in the outlet by the light switch
Who watches over you
Make a little birdhouse in your soul
Not to put too fine a point on it
Say I'm the only bee in your bonnet
Make a little birdhouse in your soul

(and while you're at it
Keep the nightlight on inside the
Birdhouse in your soul)

Not to put too fine a point on it
Say I'm the only bee in your bonnet
Make a little birdhouse in your soul

Blue canary in the outlet by the light switch (and while you're at it)
Who watches over you (keep the nightlight on inside the)
Make a little birdhouse in your soul (birdhouse in your soul)

Not to put too fine a point on it
Say I'm the only bee in your bonnet
Make a little birdhouse in your soul

Blue canary in the outlet by the light switch (and while you're at it)
Who watches over you (keep the nightlight on inside the)
Make a little birdhouse in your soul (birdhouse in your soul)

Not to put too fine a point on it
Say I'm the only bee in your bonnet
Make a little birdhouse in your soul

This week’s random song is by They Might Be Giants, of whom I became a huge fan when I was in college. I kind of lost track of their albums since . . . say, 1993 . . . but they are still pretty prolific and still very cool. If you think you’ve never heard of them, you may know them by their theme song from “Malcolm in the Middle” – Boss of Me.

Well, anyway – I’ve had “Birdhouse in Your Soul” in my head for days and thought I would share. I don’t know how to link to the mp3, but I’m sure a search can find it – it’s really catchy, and the lyrics make more sense once you hear how they are properly phrased.

Rock on, everybody . . .

Me, Alphabetically

I saw this meme over at CS’s place. She has such lovely pictures accompanying hers – she takes such beautiful pictures in general. She’s such an inspiration!

Here’s all about me from A to Z:

A is for Age: 36 years old, will be 37 in October.

B is for Beer of choice: Not really a beer drinker, but if forced I’ll go for a stout or a porter – yes, I like a drink that can double as a meal . . .

C is for Career: BWAAAAAH HA HA HA HA! Oh, wait, I guess I do have an actual career. I’m a middle manager at a national non-profit.

D is for favorite Drink: Oooh, a creamy, warm cup of Chai Tea. Smell the spices! Taste the goodness as it warms your tummy!

E is for Essential item(s) you use everyday: My glasses. I would be literally and figuratively lost without them.

F is for Favorite song at the moment: Do you mean the one that’s stuck in my head right now? “Kiss Me” by Sixpence None the Richer.

G is for favorite Game: Scrabble. Especially with a foursome. That’s a full evening’s entertainment right there . . .

H is for How about whatever favorite I choose: Favorite vacation spot – a B&B across the street from the water in Oak Bluffs on Martha’s Vineyard

I is for Instruments played: Clarinet and, briefly, violin. Would love to get a piano and learn that.

J is for favorite Juice: Lemon, especially when made into lemonade! Can also be used in a number of awesome recipes. You can’t go wrong with lemon juice . . .

K is for Kids: None yet, but would like one or two.

L is for Last kiss: Peck to Mr. Random when he dropped me off at work this morning.

M is for Marriage: Will be married 9 years in September.

N is for full Name: Well that’s easy. Kath Random, a.k.a wife of Mr. Random, formerly Kath Maiden Name. What? . . . Problem?

O is for Overnight hospital stays: Not since I was born (knock wood!)

P is for Phobias: Flying. Driving long distances by myself. Eating organ meats. Eating fungi. Speaking up, unless I am really miffed. Giving birth.

Q is for Quote: “Outta my way, you bums!” – Obviously not mine, but a friend of mine is trying to make that his new catch phrase . . . This phrase is especially useful when driving.

R is for biggest Regret: I really try not to have them – everything leads to something else – but there are some people that I wish I had met sooner in my life than later.

S is for Sports: I love to go the baseball games when I can. I love to watch soccer. And while I don’t really follow many sports closely, I still like reading the sports pages and listening to some ESPN shows. It’s all about the personalities involved. I currently listen to podcasts of ESPN’s PTI, Around the Horn, and Bill Simmons everyday. Have the time the conversation really isn’t about sports, it’s more about human nature.

T is for Time you wake up: The alarm always goes off at 6:15. I am usually sitting up by 7, whether by choice or by the entreaties of the Random Cat.

U is for color Underwear: {blush} My underwear comes in all different colors. I don’t quite have matching sets yet, but I’m getting closer.

V is for Vegetable you love: Wow, that’s hard! Corn. Green beans. Peas. Broccoli. I’d say potato, but that’s more of a starch.

W is for Worst habit: I am the worst pack rat ever. It pains me to throw paper away. Same with magazines. I am the queen of the piles.

X is for X-rays you’ve had: Dental, of course. Do sonograms count?

Y is for Yummy food you make: Cheesecakes! My dad loves my banana pudding. My grandma loves my tuna casserole. Brazilian fish stew, with black beans and spread over rice. Mr. Random likes anything I make.

Z is for Zodiac sign: Scorpio!

Anybody else want a go at this A to Z? It's all yours . . .

Random Weekend Paragraphs

I did not receive our copy of the Harry Potter book until this morning, so it will be a while before I’ve finished it. However, I have availed myself of as many of the book discussions going on as possible, just because. No, it doesn’t spoil reading for me – it rather helps in a way. Lots of times I read reviews before reading this book to get a sense of what I’m going to be delving into, and this book is no exception. The whole hoohah about people not wanting to see any reviews before the book came out just struck me as annoying as heck – if you don’t want to read them, don’t read them – but some of us do want to read them . . .

I happened to go into two bookstores on Saturday and you could see all of the detritus of the late night Potter parties, complete with empty tables and bleary, cranky staff. One store didn’t close until 2:30 in the morning and then they still had to show up the next day. One clerk talked about finding kids settled into nooks in the store, reading intently, but the staff really wanted to go home. They had to nicely say stuff like “You know, this isn’t a library . . .”

In one bookstore, my friend took a peek at the last page of the Harry Potter book, and I also sneaked a view. Afterwards we could honestly chortle that we knew how the book ends!

I had a very lovely weekend, with only two mosquito bites. I now don’t consider it a good day out unless somehow I’ve been munched on by a bug or two. I forgot to put insect repellent on my neck and upper shoulder blades, which I guess the buggers found very inviting, despite the fact that I had enough DEET on elsewhere to eradicate a locust plague . . .

After the Fringe Festival ends on Sunday, my friend and I have decided to take a rest in August from playgoing. We have to start saving up more money because these things are pretty darn expensive! Let’s see – we’ve seen 8 plays in the past few months and after Sunday we’ll have seen 10 . . .

It’s beautiful out today – not too hot and not very humid – I do hope this weather holds for a while . . .

I hope everyone had wonderful weekends!

Random Song in my Head

Cocktails For Two
Words & Music by Arthur Johnston & Sam Coslow
Recorded by Spike Jones and His City Slickers

In some secluded rendezvous
That overlooks the avenue
With someone sharing a delightful chat
Of this and that and cocktails for two.

As we enjoy a cigarette
To some exquisite chansonette
Two hands are sure to slyly meet beneath
A sur-vi-ette with cocktails for two.

Bridge:

My head may go reel - ing,
But my heart will be o-be-dient
With intoxicating kisses for the prin-ci-pal in-gre-dient.

Most any afternoon at five
We'll be so glad to be alive
Then maybe fortune will complete her plan
That all began with cocktails for two.

This morning, while on my way to work, I had this song running through my brain – complete with all of the sound effects (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cocktails_for_Two) that normally accompany it.

OK, it was weird enough that I had this particular song running through my head today. But then I tried to remember why exactly I know this song – particularly the Spike Jones version of the song.

I seem to remember watching a TV show when I was younger (early 80’s?) where people would lip sync to various songs while singing or doing little dance routines or something. I can’t remember if someone was awarded a prize at the end, but I’m thinking it was something like that . . .

Ok, I remembered the name of the show: Puttin’ on the Hits. See, I’m not going bonkers? It DID exist!

http://www.tv.com/puttin-on-the-hits/show/7675/summary.html
http://www.retrojunk.com/details_tvshows/1293-puttin-on-the-hits/
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0346377/plotsummary

If you look, you’ll see that someone is thinking of bringing the show back. Ugh! Although it was rather fun, I admit, to watch when I was 14, I can’t imagine watching it now . . . it would probably be quite painful. However, there does seem to be an appetite for this sort of show now, so I wouldn’t be surprised if it got quite popular again . . .

That was pretty random for today, wasn't it?

What a Piece of Work is a Man

Hamlet turned out to be one of the best productions that I have seen all year. On reading and watching Hamlet before, I never really made the connection that Hamlet, Laertes, Horatio, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern were all college-age guys. Usually, the actors who play those parts are much older, but for this performance – updated with present day dress, mannerisms and cast members who actually looked the ages they were portraying, really brought that home. Once you realize that, a lot of the actions and emotions of those characters make a lot more sense, and in a way emphasize the tragic tone of the play. Hamlet came off more like a moody young adult who would be rightfully ticked off that his mom married his uncle so quickly after his father’s death, and is understandably stricken when he finds out how that came about.

I didn’t really care for the actor who played Claudius – I didn’t think he was that great – but everyone else was top notch, especially the actor who played Polonius. I also really liked how Ophelia was portrayed – more like a normal 15/16 year old girl – although my friend thought she should have been more “goth-girl”-like. I just thought having her be more “normal” just emphasized how horrible Hamlet was to her . . .

The play runs until the end of the month at the Shakespeare Theater downtown. if you are in the area, I highly recommend that you go see it.

Next week: The DC Fringe Festival – The fun and the funky!

Random 30 Second Update

Going to Hamlet tonight. Will provide a review later.

Hung out with friends on Saturday. Got a few more mosquito bites, but spent a lovely day mostly sitting on a porch talking, enjoying a breeze, watching the birds flit and fly around us.

Sunday went to visit my grandmother in Outer Boondocks, Virginia. She turns 89 this week, so Mr. Random and I brought her cupcakes that she can eat slowly or share with friends. She has been having circulation problems in her legs, so she is going to the doctor this week to find out what she needs to do. I made her promise to call me when she finds out – I’m very worried about her!

Another Random Non-profit employee has resigned. This time an e-mail was sent out that a big counter-offer was made in this person’s case, which kind of sucks because we know that for most of us it would just be a “see ya” and a wave goodbye. We feel so special here . . . as you can imagine morale has gone further into the toilet than it was before . . .

I keep plugging along . . .

What Does it Mean When Something is "Cute"?

In Philosopher’s Playground today, Steve G. asked a question about what makes something “cute”. Please read the post to see what he is talking about.

Now that you’re back, I thought the question was intriguing and tried to answer it as best I could. Here was my response:

The best way that I can describe it is "attractive innocent simplicity." For
your wife's shoe example it is that the shoes resonate to her on some basic
simple level of "shoeness." The miniatures elicit the same type of reaction. The
older couple holding hands resonates with a "oh, how innocent and simple." A
couple making out would not be "cute," since that detracts from the "innocent"
part. "Cute" has to contain some level of all three things in our minds.

I was then asked to elaborate by C. Ewing, who laid out three categories of things that might be considered cute, and asked me:

Also, what precisely is "innocent" about the shoes or skirt? Perhaps, the
pencil/pen due to its association with the young girl, but I don't see how
all three are necessarily going to be present in Category #3 (to any degree
or on any level).

So I tried to answer:

Good questions. When I mean "innocent" in terms of the girlfriend or shoes . . I
mean that they have a quality to you, the observer, that strikes you in a place
that registers as a "good" thing or has properties of or reminds you of
something deep that just clicks. Because a lot of times it seems that those sort
of preferences are formed starting in childhood, which gives it the "innocent"
quality. As a girl myself, that's what I think of when I see something
"cute."

I may not be explaining this correctly, not being an academic, so it is one of those things I can see in my head and think I instinctively know, but may be horribly misinterpreting.

My spelling was atrocious in the HaloScan, by the way. I really should write my responses in Word before I answer . . .

It really is a hard thing to explain and I doubt that I am doing it well or am even in the ballpark of being correct. It seems like a simple concept that is not so simple to explain.

So I’m throwing it out to you guys: How would you define something as “cute”?

Being Comfortable in One’s Own Skin

Going to Macbeth on Sunday got me thinking: To be able to show yourself to world without any clothes on means you have to be really comfortable with yourself – comfortable with who you are, as you are. No, it is definitely not for everyone, of course. But the symbolic act of putting yourself out there without hiding behind a costume, whatever that costume may be, seems to me like a goal that one should aim towards.

Like I said earlier, to first look at the unclothed actors was a bit jarring. In a play, as in daily life, we count on costumes to tell us who someone is – who is the servant? Who is the soldier? Who is the King? Who is a witch? When you don’t have that in front of you, you really have to take notice of how a person carries themselves, the tone of their voice, the content of what they are speaking to know who they are and where they stand. Many of the characters played multiple roles, so you could tell when a person changed from being a witch to a soldier just by how she straightened up and presented her lines. One of the male characters (and they all had beards) played both the elder MacDuff and the young MacDuff. He played young MacDuff hunched on his knees and the way he held himself and delivered his lines was quite affecting – he really made you believe he was a little boy, which made the moment when young MacDuff was killed feel that much more wrenching.

But back to my original statement . . . right now, I know that I’m not feeling all that comfortable in my own skin. There are so many changes going on both inside of me and outside of me, that I barely feel competent half the time. As I continue to figure out who I am and who I should be, I seem to find myself shopping for new clothes much more often than I have in the past – a new sundress here, a new shirt there. It is almost as if I’m trying to find the clothing persona that will fit me best during this time period. Some clothes work and some clothes are like “why the heck did I spend money on THAT?”

Maybe the first work to do is to be happy with who I am, as I am. I am slightly overweight, short, with interesting hair. I tend to be quiet unless I know you really well. I like going out and seeing things in the world. I like learning new things. I like eating at restaurants. I like cooking for people I care about sometimes. I like sitting off by myself and reading sometimes. I like having people I adore really close to me sometimes. I am loyal to a fault. I sometimes create hurts toward myself so that others don’t hurt me later. I have an interesting sense of humor. I feel stupid often, but usually know what I am talking about when I do speak. I like observing and listening to others.

I need to feel confident enough to say “Look at me. This is who I am - Warts and all.” I need to have the courage of the actors in Macbeth and show the real me to the world and not be phased by it. I need to stop hiding behind my insecurities . . .

Easier said than done, of course, but I really need to try.

By the Pricking of My Thumbs . . .

On Sunday, Mr. Random, my friend J, and I went to see the Washington Shakespeare Company’s version of Macbeth – the one that is being staged sans costumes.

There was a recent review in USA Today about the performance. Read it here.

I thought that the staging actually worked: it brought out the primal, base, primitive nature of the actions and emotions found in the play and brought them front and center. The nudity did not bother me at all, however it seemed to be very distracting to my theater-mates. After the first act, it just seemed natural and not at all prurient. Just because people are not wearing clothes does not mean it is done for cheesy reasons. DC is an especially conservative town, so it probably keeps more people away from seeing it than normally would.

To read the comments on the USA Today article, from a bunch of people who are judging the staging without even seeing it, just makes me a bit ticked off. No one is forcing anyone to see it, it is a choice. But if you don't want to see it, then don't slag off those who do.

I was very glad to see it. This company does very interesting work – I also saw their staging of Edward III – and I am looking forward to seeing how they interpret other plays.

Next up in the play queue: Hamlet on July 17^th. This will be more conventionally staged, but should be fun.

A Horse with No Name

I have a embarrassing confession to make.

Until I read this today, I didn’t realize that the title to that America song was “Sister Golden Hair.” I’ve heard that song forever, but never really caught the actual title.

Do you all have songs that you didn’t know the real title to until much, much later?

Waiting for the Rain to End

The Fourth of July passed away uneventfully here at the Random Household. It was a blustery day, with rain and lots of tornado watches in the area, so we weren't in the mood to try to see fireworks. I spent the day mostly sleeping and reading, while Mr. Random went out running and watched the Twilight Zone marathon on TV. Excitement abounded at the homestead!

I took Thursday and Friday off because I needed some space from my work. The Random Non-profit has always been dysfunctional, but now that Mr. Random is no longer working there with me, I feel the dysfunction ever more keenly. It was easier to have to sit through meetings discussing the same thing over and over when I had someone to share the pain with and put it all into perspective. Nowadays, I just don’t want to deal with it anymore. I am hankering for something new, something different, something else.

I am going to try to be able to work from home more often this summer, which should help a little. Just sitting in my office can be stifling sometimes, with the constant interruptions and barrages of random information that only serve to make me more agitated and unhappy. In theory, I should be able to divorce myself from the political machinations of the office and just focus on my job, but the frustrating thing is that I can’t – all of these stupid meetings ARE a part of my job and dealing with our lack of purpose is part of what we are supposed to be doing. It just really sucks that we haven’t solved fundamental problems yet – once those are solved everything will fall into place, but since we can’t get out collective acts together, we seem to be locked into a death spiral of inaction, rushed deadlines and perpetual confusion. Mission? What IS our mission? We are not sure. If we cannot define it for ourselves, how are we supposed to help others?

The place where Mr. Random works now is very structured – a well-oiled machine – which is what you would expect a daily journalistic enterprise to be. I will from now call it the Random Publication. It is a small daily which is part of a larger media empire. They have money, and the Random Publication is a profit center for the larger company. Every day, Mr. Random comes home in awe of the resources they have available. He also rubs it in that they get bagels, pastries, fruit, juice and coffee brought in every morning for the staff, along with afternoon snacks. What? You mean treat your employees like you actually like them? What a concept!

I am home now, trying to figure out what next steps to take. I am still waiting to hear about an opportunity that I applied for earlier – if I get it, my schedule will change drastically and Mr. Random will have to figure out how to make things work so that we have enough money to pay the mortgage while still leaving me with enough time and energy to keep my sanity. I do hope I get it . . . the short term pain will yield very big benefits in the end . . .

So I am frustrated and exhausted, but full of hope. At least, I’m clinging to hope that I will only have to put up with the Random Non-profit’s BS for only a few more months before some changes happen. The only problem is figuring out how to survive that period without throwing myself in front of a bus out of angst and anger . . .

Heads! . . . Heads! . . . Heads!

On Saturday, I went to see Tom Stoppard’s play, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead at DC’s Studio Theater. This play fit in very well with our ongoing Shakespeare project, since the main characters are two minor characters in Hamlet who aren’t mentioned often but do have something integral to do with the plot. They are old friends of Hamlet’s who are sent to keep him company and find out why he is behaving so oddly. They play delves quite a bit into the nature of life and death, while giving a backstory of the types of characters who are usually just afterthoughts in plays.

It was a very funny production in a very intimate setting, and the actors gave a wonderful performance. The gentleman who portrayed “The Player,” reminded us very much of Peter O’Toole. My friend thought that the main characters should have been played a bit more vaudevillian-slapstick-y, but I’m not so sure.

If you get a chance to see this performed in your area, do go. There’s lots of great dialogue to sink your teeth into:

Rosencrantz: Do you think Death could possibly be a boat?
Guildenstern: No, no, no... Death is "not." Death isn't. Take my meaning? Death is the ultimate negative. Not-being. You can't not be on a boat.
Rosencrantz: I've frequently not been on boats.
Guildenstern: No, no... What you've been is not on boats.

*****

Rosencrantz: Life in a box is better than no life at all, I expect. You'd have a chance, at least. You could lie there thinking, "Well. At least I'm not dead.'

********

[Guildenstern is pretending to be Hamlet]
Rosencrantz: To sum up: your father, whom you love, dies. You are his heir. You come back to find that hardly was the corpse cold before his young brother pops onto his throne and into his sheets, thereby offending both legal and natural practice. Now... why exactly are you behaving in this extraordinary manner?
Guildenstern: I can't imagine.

Now on to Macbeth!

Eight Random Things About Random Kath

Steve G. at Philosopher’s Playground tagged me for this meme, so here it goes . .

- Players start with eight random facts/habits about themselves.
- People who are tagged need to write their own blog about their eight things and post these rules.
- At the end of your blog post, you need to choose eight people to get tagged and list their names.
- Don't forget to leave them a comment telling them they're tagged, and to read your blog.

1) I had perfect attendance all through school, up until my senior year of high school when I had to miss days to go to my Grandpa’s funeral.

2) Since high school, all of my best friends have been guys. I’m just not really girly. I think it has to do with my inferiority complex – I always think other women must think I’m deficient in some way, that I lack some female companionship gene that allows me to have womanly conversations. Now I have lots of women friends, just not really best friends.

3) However, I only had one other real boyfriend before I met Mr. Random, and that was when I was 24. I was more of a “little sister” type, which was fine by me. Besides, I never really wanted to date any the guys I was friends with – I knew them much too well and saw how they acted around actual girls. One of my friends actually said “don’t date me or let any of your friends date me.” It turned out to be great advice, since he was such a hound. The nicest, most congenial guy you’d ever meet though. Great to go to happy hours with, just not very good at handling serious relationships.

4) I don’t like eating mushrooms. The whole fungus thing freaks me out.

5) I’ve always wanted to learn how to play the drums. Percussion sounds like it would be such a stress reliever, to be able to bang along on something.

6) I enjoy discussing topics with people face to face, even though I feel that I am horrible at speaking. Often I can see in my head what I mean, but the words just don’t want to come out. I talk with my hands a lot . . . too much sometimes. I often have to remind myself to sit on my hands, so they don’t become distracting to others. On the other hand, I probably should learn sign language at some point – where hand gestures are encouraged and useful . . .

7) As much as I love teaching ESL to adults, I don’t know if I’d ever like to do it professionally. All the paperwork and rules would just drive me crazy. Teaching on a volunteer basis, there's no real pressure and I can tailor the lessons however I want. I like the low key-ness of it all. Now, I am very rigorous and organized in how I teach and I make sure that everyone understands the concepts that we are trying to impart over a semester, but teaching once a week is different from teaching five days a week.

8) My favorite type of ice cream is cinnamon.


I’m lousy at following meme directions, and I think most people have done this one, so I am not going to assign this to anyone else. If you are moved to do it, though, please let me know!