Rehearsals for Bohème start stomach-churningly soon, and I've been studying, and re-reading Murger, and answering questions about wigs, and thinking about supers, and generally attempting to CALM DOWN.
Thank goodness for comic relief. I highly recommend Opergasmic's brilliant synopsis (Act I, II, III, IV). Good medicine if you start to take yourself and your work just a little too seriously. If you find profanity offensive, these links are probably not for you.
Also, you saw this already, yes?
Showing posts with label Work. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Work. Show all posts
New headshots
My time at home in October happened to overlap with our friend Simon, so CM and I both hired him to take some new headshots for us. My old ones didn't look like me anymore—I change my hair too often. Plus, I'm always worried that pictures of me tend to look like someone auditioning for the role of Zerlina. I wanted something a bit more directorial (whatever that means). What do you think?
On the radio
For those of you with Sirius XM radio, tune in tonight to Met Opera Radio live broadcast of Un ballo in maschera! I'm being interviewed about Don Giovanni in the second intermission (probably around 9:30 Eastern).
Oh, and watch this! I wish you'd all been at Carnegie Hall yesterday afternoon.
Oh, and watch this! I wish you'd all been at Carnegie Hall yesterday afternoon.
First day of school
Today was my first day back at work after summer vacation. I felt grumpy and tired this morning, wishing I could be out in the gorgeous weather or off on a train with CM visiting friends at Wolf Trap. It can be hard to get back into the swing of things after a long time away. I haven't been here since March, and I even found myself having to think twice about which elevator to take to get where I wanted to go (yes, it's my 5th season and I still sometimes get lost in the maze).
But then…reality check. I am so damn lucky to do what I do, and in this theater of all places. Any day that starts with this walk into work can't be too bad.
I think mostly I was crabby because CM and I spent our first night apart in TWO MONTHS last night. I know, I know, we're apart all the time, but it never gets any easier. Thank goodness he gets back tonight—maybe he'll bring me back a better attitude.
Tomorrow I'll share with you my first Sunday in New York. It's a good one!
Photo by LMB
A Week at a Time: Morning pages
Well, the evening clean-up week was a great success, except for that one night, when I took Nyquil at 8pm without thinking and fell fast asleep by 9:30. That night I did not clean the apartment. Otherwise, though, I made the effort to do it and it greatly improved the quality of my mornings. This one's a keeper.
This week my goal is to write every morning. The idea is taken from The Artist's Way, which instructs you to write three pages long-hand first thing in the morning, for your eyes only. I'm not certain that mornings are the best time for me to write, or whether long-hand is better than typing, or whether three pages will be the magic number for me, but it seems like a good place to start. I've never kept a journal with any regularity, and I'd like to start doing more writing that's not for public consumption. So often writing here leads me to some sort of catharsis, but the times in which I am most in need of that are also the times in which I tend to blog less. So... morning pages.
I'm looking forward to it. Care to join me?
This week my goal is to write every morning. The idea is taken from The Artist's Way, which instructs you to write three pages long-hand first thing in the morning, for your eyes only. I'm not certain that mornings are the best time for me to write, or whether long-hand is better than typing, or whether three pages will be the magic number for me, but it seems like a good place to start. I've never kept a journal with any regularity, and I'd like to start doing more writing that's not for public consumption. So often writing here leads me to some sort of catharsis, but the times in which I am most in need of that are also the times in which I tend to blog less. So... morning pages.
I'm looking forward to it. Care to join me?
A Week at a Time: Evening clean-up
My television-free week went quite well, although that might have been mostly because I was hardly home in the evenings to miss it. The nights I did stay in, I was more productive and spent lots more time reading, writing, and going through pictures. I tend to be exhausted by the time I get home, even if it's only 7:30pm, and not having the option to simply turn on a show (or four!) made me far more mindful of how I was spending my time. I think I slept better, too, although I did miss my man Jon Stewart.
This week I'm challenging myself to clean up my apartment every evening. It's such a small space (with no dishwasher, I might add) that clothes on the floor and dishes in the sink can lead to energy-sucking clutter in a matter of hours. Conversely, just 10-15 minutes of clean-up can make a huge difference, so this week I'll be doing the dishes and straightening up before bed. Oh, and I think I'll make my bed in the mornings, too, just for good measure.
It would have been useful for me to thoroughly clean the place on this, my free day. That way, I would be inspired to keep it neat and tidy, and my nightly sweep would be light and manageable.
I did no such thing, of course. I was too busy today enjoying the weather, finding my perfect wedding dress (check!), buying adorable pink things for my brand-new, born today niece(!!!!), and rolling my eyes at the Oscars.
The cleaning shall begin…tomorrow!
Are you in?
This week I'm challenging myself to clean up my apartment every evening. It's such a small space (with no dishwasher, I might add) that clothes on the floor and dishes in the sink can lead to energy-sucking clutter in a matter of hours. Conversely, just 10-15 minutes of clean-up can make a huge difference, so this week I'll be doing the dishes and straightening up before bed. Oh, and I think I'll make my bed in the mornings, too, just for good measure.
It would have been useful for me to thoroughly clean the place on this, my free day. That way, I would be inspired to keep it neat and tidy, and my nightly sweep would be light and manageable.
I did no such thing, of course. I was too busy today enjoying the weather, finding my perfect wedding dress (check!), buying adorable pink things for my brand-new, born today niece(!!!!), and rolling my eyes at the Oscars.
The cleaning shall begin…tomorrow!
Are you in?
Sorry it's been forever. Work has been crazy.
Hey, remember that one time, when I redesigned my blog to be exactly what I wanted, wrote two micro-posts, and was never heard from again?
Yeah, about that.
I called up the Best Friend last night for a long overdue catch-up session, and I started out with, "Sorry it's been forever. Work has been crazy."
"Isn't it always?" she asked.
She's absolutely right. I have probably said the phrase "Work has been crazy" dozens of times over the past few years, to her and to all the other friends and family members I neglect the minute I start rehearsals for a new show. It's the worst thing about my job: the necessity for completely single-minded focus for intense periods of time. It's also one of my favorite things, actually, and I'm particularly thankful for it at the moment.
You know those dreams you have where different eras of your life are all jumbled together? You're at a cookout in the backyard of the house you lived in as a child, and with you are people from college you barely knew, and your high school boyfriend, and your great-uncle who died when you were a baby, and you're all discussing global warming, and then you go inside the house and you're actually in that apartment you lived in during grad school. Or something. You know what I mean.
Life is feeling surreal like that to me. I'm in Houston, but instead of living with CameraMan and the Bossy Cat in our cozy apartment, I've traveled back in time a couple years and I'm living in corporate housing again. I'm driving the same car, and seeing the same friends, and going to the same gym, and shopping in the same grocery stores, but I'm doing all those things alone instead of with CM. It's bizarre. Work is the same, barring a few new faces, but everything else seems just a little bit off.
So I'm focusing on work. And since I'm only at work 8-10 hours a day, with the balance of my time I'm trying to go to the gym and cook myself healthy meals on a regular basis. It all seems to be working pretty well. CM and I have settled into a routine: I call him when I wake up (he's on his afternoon break) and on my lunch break (he's home for the night), and we both write chatty good night emails at the end of our respective days.
It's almost enough to distract me from the fact that I'm not in Vienna. Almost.
Thank god the new season of TV has started.
Yeah, about that.
I called up the Best Friend last night for a long overdue catch-up session, and I started out with, "Sorry it's been forever. Work has been crazy."
"Isn't it always?" she asked.
She's absolutely right. I have probably said the phrase "Work has been crazy" dozens of times over the past few years, to her and to all the other friends and family members I neglect the minute I start rehearsals for a new show. It's the worst thing about my job: the necessity for completely single-minded focus for intense periods of time. It's also one of my favorite things, actually, and I'm particularly thankful for it at the moment.
You know those dreams you have where different eras of your life are all jumbled together? You're at a cookout in the backyard of the house you lived in as a child, and with you are people from college you barely knew, and your high school boyfriend, and your great-uncle who died when you were a baby, and you're all discussing global warming, and then you go inside the house and you're actually in that apartment you lived in during grad school. Or something. You know what I mean.
Life is feeling surreal like that to me. I'm in Houston, but instead of living with CameraMan and the Bossy Cat in our cozy apartment, I've traveled back in time a couple years and I'm living in corporate housing again. I'm driving the same car, and seeing the same friends, and going to the same gym, and shopping in the same grocery stores, but I'm doing all those things alone instead of with CM. It's bizarre. Work is the same, barring a few new faces, but everything else seems just a little bit off.
So I'm focusing on work. And since I'm only at work 8-10 hours a day, with the balance of my time I'm trying to go to the gym and cook myself healthy meals on a regular basis. It all seems to be working pretty well. CM and I have settled into a routine: I call him when I wake up (he's on his afternoon break) and on my lunch break (he's home for the night), and we both write chatty good night emails at the end of our respective days.
It's almost enough to distract me from the fact that I'm not in Vienna. Almost.
Thank god the new season of TV has started.
Playing catch-up
It's been so long since I posted here that I can hardly even call myself a blogger anymore. And while I'd love to break out my pithiest, wittiest writing, it seems that first it's time for a good old-fashioned catch-up post.
So, what's been going on the past few weeks? Here goes, in no particular order...
I'm behind on everything internet-related, but all that's about to change. Look out, readers, Little Ms. Bossy is back and looking forward to sharing her life with you again. Stay tuned...
So, what's been going on the past few weeks? Here goes, in no particular order...
- My life has pretty much returned to normal since Ike. All my friends except one have power now, the gym reopened, and almost all the street lights are working. Just in time for the Houston drivers to finally figure out what a blinking red light means.
- My temp job ended, but not until I had made myself so indispensable that 2 days a week turned into 5. What can I say, I'm that good.
- My real job started (yay!). I just finished up the first week of rehearsals for Beatrice & Benedict. After a summer off, being in the rehearsal room is just exactly what the doctor ordered. I'm a whole new girl.
I tried to move into my new apartment, only to discover that it looked like this:
To make up for it, I am now being housed in an apartment that looks like this:
Seems fair to me.- I'm assisting an Englishman with a cast that includes a Scot and an Irish woman. I may not be practicing my foreign languages, but I am learning lots of fun British phrases.
- I started a new diet/experiment: not eating crap. Except on Sundays. It's going very well so far.
- It became my birthday month! My birthday is in exactly a week. Please feel free to buy me presents.
I'm behind on everything internet-related, but all that's about to change. Look out, readers, Little Ms. Bossy is back and looking forward to sharing her life with you again. Stay tuned...
The new downtown
Yellow police tape festoons the streets.
Everywhere you look: Do Not Cross.
Ornamental trees are down or disappeared,
replaced by mounds of dirt spilling onto the sidewalks.
Broken glass glints on the ground,
something else to sidestep as we wait for nonexistent Walk signs.
Men in hard hats leaning out of skyscraper windows,
more plywood every time you go outside.
Lunch spots are busy like they always are,
but the table conversations are different.
Cell phone cameras are working overtime,
people craning their necks to see the tower.
Back to work.
Under-eye bags from sleepless nights, air-dried hair.
Everyone is hugging and swapping war stories:
tales of collapsed roofs, fallen trees, and lightning strikes,
narrow misses and near escapes.
"At least no one was hurt."
The conference room overflows with meetings,
discussing schedules and costs and how to help each other.
We take extra care to stop in every office, to talk to every colleague.
Driving home through ghost-town blocks with phantom street lights.
Past bustling restaurants and muted laughter.
Past flickering candles in windows and people talking on their porches.
Home to my cocoon of light and TV and normalcy and love.
Business as unusual.
Everywhere you look: Do Not Cross.
Ornamental trees are down or disappeared,
replaced by mounds of dirt spilling onto the sidewalks.
Broken glass glints on the ground,
something else to sidestep as we wait for nonexistent Walk signs.
Men in hard hats leaning out of skyscraper windows,
more plywood every time you go outside.
Lunch spots are busy like they always are,
but the table conversations are different.
Cell phone cameras are working overtime,
people craning their necks to see the tower.
Back to work.
Under-eye bags from sleepless nights, air-dried hair.
Everyone is hugging and swapping war stories:
tales of collapsed roofs, fallen trees, and lightning strikes,
narrow misses and near escapes.
"At least no one was hurt."
The conference room overflows with meetings,
discussing schedules and costs and how to help each other.
We take extra care to stop in every office, to talk to every colleague.
Driving home through ghost-town blocks with phantom street lights.
Past bustling restaurants and muted laughter.
Past flickering candles in windows and people talking on their porches.
Home to my cocoon of light and TV and normalcy and love.
Business as unusual.
In which LMB kicks a** and takes names
CaliBoy tells me he is concerned that my blog has taken a turn for the melancholy in recent posts. Looking back, I see that he is right, and I shouldn't be surprised. I've been going stir crazy, apparently unable to get motivated to do anything, spending all my time moping around the apartment. Last night when CameraMan got home from work he suggested we go out and do something fun, like have a beer and play some darts. My reaction? I teared up. Over beer. And darts. Clearly, I need to get out more. Or at all.
If pent-up frustration and mild depression are good for anything, it's beer-drinkin' and dart-playin'. Only halfway through my first Blue Moon, I won the first game handily. I don't mean to downplay it; this was a momentous occasion. After countless such evenings filled with Blue Moon (or Leinenkugel's, when they have it) and dizzying numbers of dart games, before last night I had beaten CameraMan exactly one time (you only wish you were there to witness my victory dance—I am the Usain Bolt of darts). Usually I am behind for the entire game, until it comes down to the very end, both of us needing one bullseye for the win, which he invariably throws before I do. Not this time. I lost my stride in the second game, and he beat me easily. The third game looked like it might go the same way, and I started getting pouty (yes, I'm a sore loser, which is unfortunate, considering how often I am one). We got down to the crucial moment, one bullseye to go on each side, and then, shockingly, amazingly, I got it! Best 2 out of 3 for the very first time. I was so proud I couldn't sleep.
And it's all been uphill from there. As of today I am employed!! Well, partially employed. The lovely people at the opera took pity on me and hired me as a temp until my real contract starts. I have never been happier to sit behind a desk researching travel, keeping the boss's schedule, and filling out expense reimbursement forms.
And to top it all off, we're heading out of town for a couple days. CameraMan's playing a recital in glamorous Longview, Texas, and I'm tagging along as Girlfriend Of. It'll be the last trip for a while, and I can't wait.
How's that for melancholy?
If pent-up frustration and mild depression are good for anything, it's beer-drinkin' and dart-playin'. Only halfway through my first Blue Moon, I won the first game handily. I don't mean to downplay it; this was a momentous occasion. After countless such evenings filled with Blue Moon (or Leinenkugel's, when they have it) and dizzying numbers of dart games, before last night I had beaten CameraMan exactly one time (you only wish you were there to witness my victory dance—I am the Usain Bolt of darts). Usually I am behind for the entire game, until it comes down to the very end, both of us needing one bullseye for the win, which he invariably throws before I do. Not this time. I lost my stride in the second game, and he beat me easily. The third game looked like it might go the same way, and I started getting pouty (yes, I'm a sore loser, which is unfortunate, considering how often I am one). We got down to the crucial moment, one bullseye to go on each side, and then, shockingly, amazingly, I got it! Best 2 out of 3 for the very first time. I was so proud I couldn't sleep.
And it's all been uphill from there. As of today I am employed!! Well, partially employed. The lovely people at the opera took pity on me and hired me as a temp until my real contract starts. I have never been happier to sit behind a desk researching travel, keeping the boss's schedule, and filling out expense reimbursement forms.
And to top it all off, we're heading out of town for a couple days. CameraMan's playing a recital in glamorous Longview, Texas, and I'm tagging along as Girlfriend Of. It'll be the last trip for a while, and I can't wait.
How's that for melancholy?
Happiness is...
I've been neglecting the blog. And Facebook. And Twitter. And Flickr. And email. I'm thinking it might be a good thing, though. For the first time in a while my real life is looking pretty damn attractive, and I'm nurturing it instead of my online life. Lest you think that I've abandoned you completely, however, here's an update.
What have I been doing instead of telling you all about my life? Well, working, for the most part. We've been rehearsing Magic Flute for a week now. Coming back to Flute after having just done it this summer is a bit like seeing an old friend. Only in this case, it's that socially awkward friend who invites himself to parties and then gets just a little too drunk and passes out on your couch. Despite the fact that it's not my favorite opera (not even close), though, I seem to be having a great time working on it. Part of it is just familiarity; I think I never truly know an opera until I've worked on it, and this one? This one I know. I'm also enjoying doing an opera in German more than I can say. Flute has a bunch of German dialogue, and I'm delighted by how much my comprehension, grammar, and the flow of my speech have improved since this summer. I was even able to help answer a grammar question in rehearsal the other day. Don't think I won't be bragging about that for the next fewdays months.
But the best thing about working on this production is that rehearsals are fun (seems like a no-brainer, but it is definitely not always the case). The singers are young, vibrant, and inventive; the conductor is soft-spoken and laid back with a wicked sense of humor that surprises me every time; and the director has a fantastic creative energy that sets the tone for rehearsals that are full of collaboration and discovery. And all this, despite the fact that, being Winter (yes, even in Houston we call it Winter), few of the cast members have not succumbed to some kind of illness, and we've even had one casting change as a result. Still, I'm having the best time! Who knows, the opera itself might even grow on me.
When I'm not in rehearsal, I've been spending lots of quality girl time with The New Oregonian (we're roommates now!) and my other girlfriends, co-hosting a Superbad party, chauffeuring CameraMan to various doctor's appointments (leprosy, in case you're wondering), going to the gym, and freaking out that I haven't found a summer job yet. I'm told that once I adopt a Zen attitude and decide I really don't need a summer job, an amazing opportunity will just land in my lap, but I haven't figured out quite how to get there yet.
Today's my free day for the week, the one day in which to cram everything I haven't done since my last free day (New Year's Day). I got my hair done (yay! no more straggly bangs and unsightly roots!), ran lots of errands, did laundry, cleaned, and sent my résumé to remind people that I exist and am highly employable.
And now I'm sitting with a cup of tea and shortbread cookies (thanks a lot for that new habit, Army Brat), listening to William Fitzsimmons, and feeling almost, dare I say it...happy.
Hey, what do you know.
What have I been doing instead of telling you all about my life? Well, working, for the most part. We've been rehearsing Magic Flute for a week now. Coming back to Flute after having just done it this summer is a bit like seeing an old friend. Only in this case, it's that socially awkward friend who invites himself to parties and then gets just a little too drunk and passes out on your couch. Despite the fact that it's not my favorite opera (not even close), though, I seem to be having a great time working on it. Part of it is just familiarity; I think I never truly know an opera until I've worked on it, and this one? This one I know. I'm also enjoying doing an opera in German more than I can say. Flute has a bunch of German dialogue, and I'm delighted by how much my comprehension, grammar, and the flow of my speech have improved since this summer. I was even able to help answer a grammar question in rehearsal the other day. Don't think I won't be bragging about that for the next few
But the best thing about working on this production is that rehearsals are fun (seems like a no-brainer, but it is definitely not always the case). The singers are young, vibrant, and inventive; the conductor is soft-spoken and laid back with a wicked sense of humor that surprises me every time; and the director has a fantastic creative energy that sets the tone for rehearsals that are full of collaboration and discovery. And all this, despite the fact that, being Winter (yes, even in Houston we call it Winter), few of the cast members have not succumbed to some kind of illness, and we've even had one casting change as a result. Still, I'm having the best time! Who knows, the opera itself might even grow on me.
When I'm not in rehearsal, I've been spending lots of quality girl time with The New Oregonian (we're roommates now!) and my other girlfriends, co-hosting a Superbad party, chauffeuring CameraMan to various doctor's appointments (leprosy, in case you're wondering), going to the gym, and freaking out that I haven't found a summer job yet. I'm told that once I adopt a Zen attitude and decide I really don't need a summer job, an amazing opportunity will just land in my lap, but I haven't figured out quite how to get there yet.
Today's my free day for the week, the one day in which to cram everything I haven't done since my last free day (New Year's Day). I got my hair done (yay! no more straggly bangs and unsightly roots!), ran lots of errands, did laundry, cleaned, and sent my résumé to remind people that I exist and am highly employable.
And now I'm sitting with a cup of tea and shortbread cookies (thanks a lot for that new habit, Army Brat), listening to William Fitzsimmons, and feeling almost, dare I say it...happy.
Hey, what do you know.
Konjunktion Junktion, was ist dein Funktion?
There was a time when I couldn't imagine not being a student. Two and a half years ago, master's degree in hand, I entered the workforce fully intending to go back to school for my MFA in Directing within the next two to three years. Clearly, plans change. I like being a working girl. It suits me. And being a director satisfies both my nerdy academic side (I heart research) and the side of me that really wants, you know, a paycheck.
And yet here I am in Vienna, back in class, and I'm finding the transition a bit rocky. I go to German class every morning from 9:00 to 12:15. The first 90 minutes focus on grammar, then we take a 15-minute break and do conversation for the last 90 minutes. The grammar comes easily to me, and most of it seems like review, but the conversation is something else entirely. I'm trying not to beat myself up over it, but honestly, I don't know if I could speak German well if my life depended on it. Every time it comes time for me to speak, I become a stuttering, stammering mess with the vocabulary of a 4-year-old. In town I do fine, and I've already spoken German successfully to the housekeeper at my apartment on several occasions (including today when I broke a large mirror in my room—oops). I'm not sure why I have such a problem in class.
Today I had to speak quite a bit because we were talking about American politics. I'm the only American in a class with 1 Hungarian, 4 Czechs, 1 Belgian, and 1 Dutch. Yesterday we talked a lot about occupations, and we focused on typical jobs for men and typical jobs for women (a subject I find somewhat bizarre—what year is this?) We discussed how many women were in politics in Austria and in each of our home countries. Today the teacher brought in an article about Hillary Clinton and Barack Obama. Most of the class had never heard either of those names, so it was on me to explain who they were, and what public sentiment about them was, and why, and what they stood for. REALLY? I think I would have a hard time answering those questions articulately in English, and I certainly have not learned to bulls*** auf Deutsch yet. I also had to explain that not everyone in the USA has health insurance, a fact that completely stunned my classmates.
So, basically, I'm just a typical American who can't speak any language besides English, doesn't know about what's happening in her own country, and spreads the news about our terrible health care system.
At least my camera doesn't have a neck strap.
And yet here I am in Vienna, back in class, and I'm finding the transition a bit rocky. I go to German class every morning from 9:00 to 12:15. The first 90 minutes focus on grammar, then we take a 15-minute break and do conversation for the last 90 minutes. The grammar comes easily to me, and most of it seems like review, but the conversation is something else entirely. I'm trying not to beat myself up over it, but honestly, I don't know if I could speak German well if my life depended on it. Every time it comes time for me to speak, I become a stuttering, stammering mess with the vocabulary of a 4-year-old. In town I do fine, and I've already spoken German successfully to the housekeeper at my apartment on several occasions (including today when I broke a large mirror in my room—oops). I'm not sure why I have such a problem in class.
Today I had to speak quite a bit because we were talking about American politics. I'm the only American in a class with 1 Hungarian, 4 Czechs, 1 Belgian, and 1 Dutch. Yesterday we talked a lot about occupations, and we focused on typical jobs for men and typical jobs for women (a subject I find somewhat bizarre—what year is this?) We discussed how many women were in politics in Austria and in each of our home countries. Today the teacher brought in an article about Hillary Clinton and Barack Obama. Most of the class had never heard either of those names, so it was on me to explain who they were, and what public sentiment about them was, and why, and what they stood for. REALLY? I think I would have a hard time answering those questions articulately in English, and I certainly have not learned to bulls*** auf Deutsch yet. I also had to explain that not everyone in the USA has health insurance, a fact that completely stunned my classmates.
So, basically, I'm just a typical American who can't speak any language besides English, doesn't know about what's happening in her own country, and spreads the news about our terrible health care system.
At least my camera doesn't have a neck strap.
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