Sunday, August 17, 2008

Mah ride...let me showz u it

Mah ride...let me showz u it, originally uploaded by tberrongkc.

Coming in to work on Sunday is more fun when you ride a scooter to your desk.

My dad, who is clearly in some sort of late mid-life crisis, just bought a red corvette convertible. My early mid-life crisis purchase...OK, well it has red accents. And it IS convertible, from a certain point of view. 

Realizing that riding it around in my living room was not suitable preparation for a rush-hour commute to work, I took advantage of having some work stuff to get done today and rode the thing into the office. What I have learned: 

  • Little hills rock. Not ready for big ones yet. 
  • It's more of a workout than it looks like. With one leg pushing, the other balancing your body weight, and—well, I don't know EXACTLY why my arms started to burn a little bit, but there you go. 
  • On the list of things I have to do this week, not many things will be more fun than zipping through the empty halls of our building.
Anyway. No falls. No scrapes. No concussion. 


Part two: Rehearsal. 

Just finished rehearsing for Poke with Tommy. Tried two things: 
  1. Doing all of our scene and character changes from two stationary chairs. 
  2. Drawing a slip of paper with status (from 1-10) on it before entering a scene. 
Both worked in different ways. For me, the chair thing took the weirdness out of rehearsing in my guest room. And as Tommy pointed out, playing a status gives you instant relationship. 

I'm in a weird little phase in rehearsals. I'm spending a ton of time rehearsing, with 2-3 hours a week for Tantrum, Spite, Burnin' Sternums and Poke.  We've done a lot of workshop stuff—scenes with specific points of concentration—as well as running formats. 

It's almost like I'm too comfortable. I feel like I'm reacting, but not thinking, and for me that almost never works. I'm focusing on real emotional responses, but not doing anything particularly interesting. I'm playing characters closer to myself, but they all feel like they have the same physical, emotional and verbal rhythms. 

In other words, I need be more intentional in the work. Give myself little challenges so I can find character games instead of just coasting through scenes. 

Also, it'll be good to get on stage in front of an audience and out of random meeting rooms and living rooms. 

The other strange thing: It's been forever since I've directed or taught. I've been consciously avoiding taking charge of anything because I'm doing so much of that with the festival and putting shows together. I know it's affecting the way I play. 

Exit 16 starts up again in a little over a week. I've got a bunch of returning students—and most of them have been playing at least part of this summer. I'll plan a first rehearsal that does three things: 
  1. Starts building trust.
  2. Give me a sense of their vibe.
  3. Makes it really, really fun.
And now, I wait for the benadryl to kick in. I've learned over the last week that between the festival and being in the middle of the most stressful time of the year at my real job, I don't sleep. At least all the way through the night. So yay for diphenydramine.


  1. Pleeeeeeeeease let someone take a picture of you riding this!!!

  2. I'm sorry. It is unlikely I will ride it when I am drunk enough to allow that to happen.

  3. Huh. So here's part of an email I got from a friend about being spotted leaving work on my scooter:

    "My husband saw you as you were leaving work last night and thought from a distance you were a little boy. He was all surprised when you got up close & turned out to be you. I'm thinking that's a compliment....?"

    Um...OK. Ways to take this:
    —Focus on "little"—considering my previous ass-size-issues, this reads as a compliment.
    —Focus on "boy"—which, at the very least, verifies that perhaps jeans, a Roller Warrior baseball shirt, Converse sneakers and a scooter may not be projecting a professional OR feminine image.
    —Focus on "boy"—which implies youth. At a distance, anyway.

  4. I'll mark that in the "believe it when I see it" category.

  5. I think your arms starting burning because of the impending heart attack. Don't be alarmed though. It's just what happens to people in their 40s who exercise.

    By the way, my verification word is "bigedkps."

  6. HAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!

    It is the story of my life that I am without internet when you do this. You should get some hyper color tee-shirts and some braces while you are regressing.


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