Wednesday, February 13, 2008

Broadway Baby I ain't

I awoke yesterday morning at 5:36am with a jolt. The kind of jolt that makes you sit upright, and if you were on a bottom bunk, would surely leave you a shinny goose-egg reminder. The cause of my awakening so much earlier than my 7:15am alarm clock, was a dream, or more aptly, being "stuck in a broadway nightmare" (to quote Willow from BtVS).
Lately I have been surrounding myself even more with people in the field of theatrics, and no I'm not talking about the "drama queen" within. A good portion of my friendships in high school and college involved theater majors. I am by no means a theater person myself though. My most apt description for myself is somewhere along the lines of "theater groupie" - only without the worship part. I know terminology, can work out blocking, can assess camera angles, and analyze director choices. I can tell you if a period piece has the right costumes and set design, and I can swap some of the best stories of stage antics with seasoned vets of the playwrights playground. (ask me about the vodka switched for prop water in Bye Bye Birdie)
However, I am in no shape to be an actress, musician, or in general, under those bright lights. The aforementioned dream, and its corresponding real life influences should prove just that.

Back in undergrad I used to have an anxiety/panic attack nightmare akin to many people who say they dream they've gone to class naked. In my version, I take an art history test where I know all of the images, but I have to formulate my comparison answers in the Russian language, and the questions are all in Italian. Two languages I don't speak/read/write in. Inevitably I scribble something illegeable to my dream-self and wake up frustrated and shaken.

In this new formulation of this same anxiety driven dreamscape, it began with me auditioning for a play. (This, in real life stems from the recent auditions of friends and roommate for City Circle Shorts - and in real life nothing would possess me to try out for a play unless it was upon penalty of death or a failing grade.)
I get the part. (In real life I'd go, "eekk" ) The part is to be the second of two detectives in a film noir stage piece. (Indeed in real life the roommate's role is in a film noir stage piece) I show up for the first day of reheresal and discover that everyone else already knows their lines. (in real life I helped roomie to learn hers) I am appalled to notice that the other female characters are all wearing really short skirts, and claim that these are the outfits we will be wearing on stage (roomie and i watched an episode of Gossip Girl - yay Kristen Bell - and the characters wear really short skirts) I tried to explain that my character, as the detective who investigates the death of the first detective and femme fatale, would wear pants, not a short skirt. obviously all that leaning over bodies and dusting for fingerprints couldn't take place in a skirt, and I asked if I could wear my gray power suit instead. (I actually do own a gray power suit) The director said no, and I threatened to quit. (There's a running joke among the theater folks about quiting, and how there is no quiting in theater...(ala League of their Own and crying) Anyways, I then overhear the director telling other cast members that I'm the $$$ behind the production and that is the only reason I'm in the show. (In real life this relates both to the roomie and the funding for the movie she's in, and also, ala Shakespeare in Love you must have a bit part for the money) Well, I inform the director that I've got no need to actually be in the show, I'm perfectly happy to be in the audience, and the director decides to expand my part instead, and I am now the "singing film noir second detective" Oh yes, he's added a musical number for me. (In real life I believe this part came from seeing a fantastic version of Little Shop of Horrors at Cornell college on Sunday, which always makes me wish I could sing solos and actually act without being terrified to do so) At this point, I open my mouth to object, and suddenly I'm singing some over-the-top ditty wrought with innuendo and discussion of DNA.
The End. Susan awakes up, and a little while later tells roommate about said dream, thus it gets journaled in the blog.

Saturday, February 02, 2008

Snow: 4 Susan: 0

When I bought my Honda civic in 2004, I drove it nearly three weeks later to Indiana. Bessie, as she is affectionately named, did a nice job waiting patiently in my dorm room and apartment parking lots. I barely drove her while at school, because I could get a parking permit for oncampus ---something next to unheard of here at the U of Iowa, and because most of what I needed was centrally located pretty close to that dorm or apartment. I never had to venture too far into the town of Bloomington out of necessity, though I did often for discoveries and random oddities. Bessie handled the Indiana snow, what little there was that I drove through like a pro. However, now that I am back in Iowa, and the snow does not melt usually the same day it falls, Bessie has come up against some challenging issues.
Observe:

Snow 1 Susan 0: Coming home from work at the public library one night, during a not so fun blizard, Bessie could not make it up the hill on Rocky Shore Drive/Park Road. It wasn't really her fault, she's a front wheel drive baby, and the plows had not been out yet...luckily, I could simply turn around in a driveway, and stay with my roommate (who was housesitting at the bottom of said hill).

Snow 2 Susan 0: The next morning, Bessie made it up the hill just fine...the plows had been out, the road was sanded and all was good. Until, I got back to my own apartment. Between the snow from the night before, the lack of the apartment parking lot being cleared, AND the snow piled up in the entrance from the plows going by...there was more than a surmountable bit of snow blocking my way. Well, I did what any logical woman would do in this situation**, looked to the parking lot next door which belongs to the U of Iowa. (The theater building lot to be exact, which is free on the weekends...and this, was a Sunday) Well no such luck...it was early, about 8:30am and the U of I plow crews were just getting to the music building down the street.

I decided I could go it alone.

Because, really, I just needed to shovel out enough of the plowed up snow, and get up enough momentum and I should be able to glide into the parking lot - with some expected minor fishtailing. No such luck. After clearing the first foot of snow with the shovel off the parking lot entrance, and climbing back into the car, and making a nice turn from the road, coming from the left...poor sweet Bessie met her second icky winter weather issue.

She was stuck.

I shoveled out around the car, and still had no luck. Stuck at the entrance to my parking lot. No one else could get in around me...but no one else was up at that hour anyway. Lucky for me the very nice man who was plowing the sidewalks for the University of Iowa, (that I immediately sought out to help) was good enough to come over and attempt to help. He pushed the car from behind, and I pushed the gas. No luck...we tried reversing, and I happened to get stuck again, halfway out into the street, ergo blocking on coming traffic. A few minutes later the public safety officers arrived in thier patrol car...it took all three men pushing on my car to get me BACK out into the street, and I was no better off than before. I drove around the block a number of times, and the UI guy took pity on me, and cleared the rest of the opening to my parking lot for me. I was then able to get into a spot.

Snow 3 Susan 0
A few days ago, I had my third run in with the snow gods. I tried to back out of my parking space to make a doctors appointment. What do you know. Stuck again. This time the cause of the problem, a rut created by ice and snow and other people's tires before mine. Anyways, around 9pm that night, I was finally able to drive out of that spot..while my roommate and friend watched...(I had thought they'd have to push me out) So I ended up looking like an idiot. My other friend was nice enough to give me a ride earlier in the day to the appoitnment, so I at least didn't miss that.

Snow 4 Susan 0
Today marks my 4th frustrating annoying experience with this year's Iowa winter snow. I was dogsitting for friends in North Liberty, near the Coralville Res. Their driveway is almost a mile long and turns and twists a bit, but the only real hill part is right before the actual paved driveway itself, as the rest is gravel. Well, I had no trouble getting into the driveway this morning to let the dogs out and give 'em breakfast. The snow was coming down pretty hard, and by the time I tried to leave at 9:30, probably an inch or so had fallen on the already covered drive. Wouldn't ya know? Bessie couldn't make it up the little hill.

I went from a half gallon of gas to a quarter of a gallon of gas during my rounds of attempts. I shoveled out the whole length of the hill up to its crest. I put down sand and salt around my car and in front and behind it. I tried unsuccessfully 2 times before I called my dad, exasperated. "Why do you always call me when you get stuck?" He spoke gruffly. "Because you're a physics person, you know how these momentum things work" I told him. He suggested all the things I'd already done, but I did get the phone numbers I needed to call into work and tell them I might be late. (Yes I'm working on a Saturday...but it's not busy, so I"m blogging) Anyway, I called both the public library and the art library employees, and they are all very understanding...but I say, I may make it if I can get out. I really just need a good push or something. Then I called another friend who lives nearby, but she didnt' answer, so I called my roommate, and melted down a little. Yes, I had a very "girl emotional" moment, and lost it slightly. I was so frustrated, and I had somewhere to be. My roomie was pretty understanding as she always is, and offered to come and get me. I told her to stay away, since I didn't know if the rest of the roads had been plowed yet either, and I resigned myself to sit in the car for a bit, collect myself, go back inside and wait it out for awhile. (The owners of the house will be home before supertime, hopefully). But then, I saw a group of deer bounding around nearby, and they came over (probably to investigate the smell emainating from my tires) and started to literally sniff at my car. It wasn't exactly an easy moment to open the door, scare them away and retreat into the house. So I waited a bit longer, and watched them move about. They are actually quite pretty, and I wished I had been outside the car to get a picture of one of the deer sniffing at my headlights. Luckily the deer out by the Res are not quite as tame as those by my parents house, and when I hit the car horn, they all dashed back off into the cover of the trees.
I told my roomie on the phone: I want to commune with Nature, but apparently Nature is telling me to shut the hell up. And when I hit the horn, I yelled scatter into the phone because it's an inside joke with a few friends, including Cas. She started laughing, and so did I, which made me take a breath and stop the flow of meltdown in progress, and I told her "wait, listen to how this sounds" and I made the final attempt up the hill.
Apparently enough of the salt/snow/sand mix worked, and Bessie had enough energy again, or perhaps she felt sorry for me after my outburst of tears, that she finally made it up the little hill.

So what I've learned from all this: My dad was right to have me always carry a shovel, sand and salt in my trunk, as well as an emergency kit so that I can be prepared.
Help will sometimes arrive in the form of people, animals, or pity.
And sometimes, you're just going to get stuck.


**logical woman really only refers to what I suggest might be logical, and this is my disclaimer that what I did/do remains not quite logical to some.