Lots to say, but I'm short on words

Wow, I've had a lot of blog-worthy stuff happening these past weeks.  But I find myself without the vocab energy to make any of it into a blog entry.  So in the spirit of Twitter, here's a few brief mentions of what's been going on, just for posterity's sake.

We've had rain, lots of rain.  We even had some floods.  And there were tornados, bad ones, south of us.  Mama Nature was not a happy camper in those last weeks of April.  Lots of May flowers coming, we hope.

I took a jaunt to Madison for Bolzie Board stuff and home to NH for the last time that it will be my home.  The memories that trip stirred up...well, that definitely needs a full blog entry.

A few days back in the office, and then it was off to NY for the Broadway Road Conference.  I saw Priscilla Queen of the Desert, Anything Goes (with Sutton Foster and Joel Grey), Bengal Tiger in the Baghdad Zoo (with Robin Williams), The Book of Mormon and Sister Act.  More on those later. 

And now a few crazy work weeks begin, but they are colored by the tragic death of someone far too young to have left the earth so soon.  I know how all of this young man's friends feel, and I just wish I could take that pain from them; the process takes a long time and I wish they didn't have to suffer it. 

And remember that entry about something good happening?  I think I spoke too soon.  That'll teach me.

Here's hoping for more cheer and light in the next entry.  Go Sox!

My own "dance diary"

A few weeks back, some colleagues and I drove to Tulsa to see a dance show, and one of these colleagues told me she keeps a "dance diary", jotting down the companies and works she sees.  I was terribly impressed by this. 

So I'm going to try it.  Mostly because I've been thinking about some of my travels lately, and I'm wishing I'd kept a diary along the way.  Most of my travel these days involves being transported by music or dance, so here goes!
Since my last post about Compania Nacional de Danza II, I've seen a few other shows, but the one I want to be sure I remember is the one I went to this past Sunday.  It featured the Preservation Hall Jazz Band and the Del McCoury Band, the former known for their swingin' Nawlins jazz marches, the latter as the granddaddy of bluegrass.  I heard these two groups play together in NYC a year or so ago.  I'd been waiting to see them since then.

They didn't disappoint.  I honestly couldn't tell you what songs they played, other than "I'll Fly Away" and "When the Saints Go Marching In." But they had the whole crowd (except the gentleman to my left who had clearly been dragged by his wife and was nodding off) tapping their toes.  It was such fun to watch the collaboration of two distinctly American music forms coming together, and the musicians were clearly enjoying themselves.  Someone said to me today "I don't think they needed the audience; they were having such fun playing together."  That might be true, but I'm glad we there.

It also helped that I was there with a new friend, who either enjoyed the show or was too polite to tell me otherwise.  :) It was fun to be a part of a crowd that was just having a good time, not thinking too hard, not worrying about much - just enjoying some swingin', trumpet blarin', mandolin pickin' goodness.

Reality life

Someone like me, who has built a life largely as a solo endeavor, learns to accept certain realities: slow dances will always be awkward, no matter how old you are or how fast your reach for your phone to start texting, 9 times out of 10 hostesses will look uncomfortable when you announce you're dining alone, and while there are lots of things that can be done solo, there are some things (rollercoasters and honeymoons, for example) that simply require an "other", significant or not.

(On the upside, we also secretly gloat about the hidden bonuses, such as always being in control of the remote and not being judged for spending 1/2 a day watching Dog Whisperer, but I digress.)

However, someone like me also, by necessity, spends quite a bit of time in fantasy worlds; on TV, in books or even just out and about, mentally trying to deconstruct the lives of my fellow humans.  Inevitably, the characters in these fictional or real dramas are more interesting, prettier, luckier or wittier than me (and they never worry about waxing).  In fiction, they're always getting "feelings" about people and situations.  In real life, they appear to glide through life without stopping to wonder if they are in the right place at the right time.  Neither of these idealized worlds are real, but they are easy to imagine and romanticize.

Lately, I've found myself feeling like something good is about to happen.  It feels like what novelists try to describe in their books.  I'm a little stunned by how distinct the feeling is, and how much I like it.

The problem is that I have no way of knowing if it's real.  It could very well be something my over-zealous self-analyzing psyche has drummed up to get me through whatever particular crisis my subconscious is churning over.  (Good grief, just reading that last sentence makes me want to slap myself).  Or it could just be that I'm in a good mood for whatever reason.

In a novel, in a situation like this, some wise best friend/mentor would say "good things will happen if you make them happen."  Since I've never asked my real friends, I have no idea what they'd say, but I suspect it would be something like "Get real, girl.  Whatever happens, happens."

I wish I could express how scary it feels to even write this down, because inevitably, someone will read it and ask me 6 months later: "Hey, did anything ever happen?"  And I'll likely have to answer "Nope."

But I wanted a record of it, because it's been a while since I can remember feeling like this.  And even if it does disappear, I'd like to try to remember the feeling, because it's pretty great.  And despite the fact that I know it's probably all in my head, I think I'm going to do my damnedest to keep it going.

Today's lesson: Accepting "advice"...with grace

Today started off on an awkward, yet funny note, as the little tap dance known as "get your morning caffeine in the workroom" got all messed up and I had to start my morning with a radio interview and two impromptu meetings without my normal cup of tea.  I survived, and thus began another day of highs and lows.

The highs included the AR State Supreme Court declaring an adoption ban unconstitutional.  According to this ban, I'm unable to adopt or be a foster parent if I'm in a relationship with a man, but not married.  If I was in a relationship with a woman, civil union or not, same goes.  This law was passed by more than 1/2 of my fellow voting Arkansans, which goes to show that elections are not "the will of the people."  Not this people, anyway.  Now that the Supreme Court has ruled, I'm told by a friend who knows such things that we'll face a possible state consitutional amendment next year.  I think I'd like to send all those people who voted for this ban to a group home or foster situation for a few days and see how they feel about denying kids a chance at a loving home. Ok, stepping off my soapbox.

Except to say that another high point was learning that the Glenn Beck show is going off the air.  The only negative: Jon Stewart won't have as much material.

The lows came from the usual stuff; too much work, feeling like I'm not helping my staff enough, feeling inadequate and missing my friends, etc.  The lowest point came when I snarked off after being offered a bunch of unsolicited "advice" in an email.  While my reaction was understandable (maybe), it was certainly not noble. 

But I choose to take a lesson from it.  I need to learn to take unsolicited advice more gracefully. After all, there's never going to be a shortage of it.  I also need to ask for advice more.  I always feel better after asking someone for help or advice, as do they.  Virtuous cycle, right?   Can you imagine how much less drama there would be in life if we were all comfortable with being given unsolicited advice?

Well, this put me in a better frame of mind going into a dance concert by Compania Nacional de Danza II tonight (that's a mouthful), but I confess that I didn't take it from theory to practice as I chatted with a patron:

Me: Did you know this show is part of a series of performances that are only $10 per show?
Patron: Really?  I didn't know that.  You should run some sort of marketing campaign so people know about it. 
Me (silently counting the hours/dollars we spent on the campaign): Um, ok.

Fail.

I should have graciously said "You're so right!  Tell me where I could advertise that might reach you!" or some such. 

Oh well.  Maybe next time.

But the show was wonderful, beautiful, soothing, calming, (insert therapeutic adjective here).  And now my pretty pooch is sprawled on the bed next to me, taking up more space than me.  Life is good.  Tomorrow is a new day, and if the government doesn't shut down, maybe next week a lonely kid will be able to find a home.  

So go ahead.  Hit with me your best "you know, have you ever thought about doing this?" advice.  I can take it.

Sounds

While listening to my local NPR station this evening, I stumbled into an interesting segment; apparently March is the 21st anniversary of Ozarks at Large, a local news show. So they decided to play, and discuss, their 21 favorite sounds.

Not their favorite stories.  Their favorite sounds.   The 10 minutes I caught included the expected, like babbling brooks and insects, and the unexpected, like a plumbing snake being fed through a clogged drain. 

It was an enlightening moment.  See, one of my favorite parts of my work week is my Thursday KUAF interview.  I enjoy the process, and I'm not ashamed to admit that I like being told that I have a nice radio voice. Though I often think "Yep, I've got a face and a voice for radio," I realized, while listening tonight, that I don't have the required obsession with sounds.  My first instinct when I hear something interesting is not to grab my IPhone or whatever microphone I happen to have lying around (do I have microphones lying around?  I rest my case.) and record it.  But I guess, if you spend your life manipulating sounds and sound wavelengths to create something, you'd have to be pretty obsessed about sound.  I'd never thought of that.

Regardless, it sure is fun to try to describe your favorite sounds, even though putting them into words is tough.  Here are my top five: 

#5.  When the surround sound kicks in at a movie theater.  You've been suffering through tinny renditions of the latest pop sensation, and suddenly...whoosh...the sound starts from behind your head and ripples down the walls in parallel waves, crashing together in the exact center of the movie screen.  I love that.  Especially if the movie that follows features lots of explosions and fight scenes.  

#4.  Quacking.  Ducks are funny.  I can't ever hear them quacking without smiling and wanting to quack back, despite the fact that they won't understand me and people tend to look at me funny when I do.

#3.  Kids in a theater. Those who have never had my job won't get this one.  When our 1200 seat auditorium is full of children, they tend to look, and sound, like popcorn in a pan: bouncing around, a steady hum of noise punctuated by the occasional screech or leap out of a seat.  But you absolutely cannot beat what happens when the lights start to go down; they start to whoop and scream and holler like it's a rock concert.  Half of the students probably don't know what they are about to see, but it doesn't matter. It's like plugging into an outlet for a recharge of the soul.

#2.  Orchestras tuning: be it a Broadway show or a full 80 piece ensemble, the cacaphony of the pre-show tuning is just, well, awesome.  It ebbs and flows, highly disciplined in each instrument's tuning, but a completely undisciplined combined sound. Yet to me, it always sounds the same.  Eerie, but beautiful.

#1.  I think only theater people will get this one, but my favorite sound is actually a lack of one.  It's the silence of a perfectly timed moment on stage, when the absence of sound says more than any words or music could.  I love this.  Just love it.  It can so easily go wrong; if the silence is too long, it's awkward.  If it's too short, it's not real.  But when it's perfect, it can take an audience through an emotional moment without them even knowing it. 

So thanks to my friends at KUAF for the intellectual stroll down Sound Alley.  I'm going to be listening more carefully in the next few days, I think.

How about you?  What are your favorite sounds?

The Ides of March

Huh.

If I didn't know better, I'd think this time of year has it out for me.  My staff have a habit of leaving for new jobs on or around the 15th of March.  The spring months, which should be my favorite time of year, stretch endlessly before me, full of to-do lists that are far more impressive than my ration of daylight hours. I have started doing stupid things like attempting to unlock the backstage door with my car remote, or spend 5 minutes looking for the sunglasses that are on my head. 

And vacation seems so very, very far away.

But this Ides season, I really can't complain (though it appears I just did).  There a "catastrophic nuclear accident" going on in Japan, according to the NYTimes.  Even the stalwart WSJ.com says things are "spinning out of control."

Perspective is a good, if painful, thing.

So, I have this to say. You've had your fun, Ides.  Now cool down that reactor and go back to your hideaway for another year.  We've had just about enough of you, thanks.

An unlikely Cinderella goes shopping

If there are men reading this, you might want to get your eye-rolling and scoffing out of the way now, or better yet, go watch ESPN.  This is definitely a girly post. 

So, tomorrow I'm going to a ball.  A real, live ball, complete with masks and black tie optional.  Unfortunately, I will not have a handsome gentlemen in a tux on my arm, but I'll be working, so in truth, even if I had one, he'd be in the way.  Or so I tell myself. :)

I don't often go to balls.  In fact, it's safe to say I never do.  I think the last one I went to was...well...probably prom, if that counts.  I'm sure you can see the problem.  No gowns in my closet, except an extremely boring one that has hung around for at least 10 years (and I'll be damned if I can remember why I bought it).  No shoes that are anything but black, sensible or flip flops.  No sparkly jewelry.  A woeful lack of appropriate underarmor...er...wear.  And no time to scour the few stores we have. In fact, I had one night, and a four part mission: dress, underwear, jewelry, shoes.

It's rare that I actually enjoy shopping.  Let's be honest; fashion is not friendly to the overweight.  Oh, I know, Spanx are great, and you can read all the articles in the world about how "confidence" and "taking care of yourself" are as sexy as a size 4 body, but it simply. ain't. true.  Clothes in stores are designed for people who are skinnier than me.  Period.

Thus, I always approach a "must buy" shopping spree with healthy trepidation.  Today, though, I had a funny feeling that it wouldn't be as bad as usual, and to my delight, it wasn't.  Remember how Cinderella had a beautiful dress made for her by the mice ?  I felt like I had Gus-Gus and his crew with me tonight.

DRESS
The first sign that things were going to be different? I found my dress on my first trip to the fitting room.  Even better, I was only a few pounds away from being able to get the smaller size.  Excellent weight loss incentive there.   Now the dilemma - bold color or sensible and slimming black?  My normal MO is black.  So I went for the color.  I'm such a rebel.

UNDERWEAR
A brief stop in the unmentionables department had me thinking of all the scenes in movies about "slimming" undergarments:  Bridget Jones and her giant panties, for example, or this classic line from Steel Magnolias:

"I haven't left the house without lycra on my thighs since I was 14."
"You were brought up right."

JEWELRY
Note to self; it's fun to shop in the jewelry section when one is not trying to walk the sparkly/yet subtle line.  When sparkly is all you're going for, the possibilities are endless.

SHOES
I had intended to buy a long dress so I could wear flats. But the dress has a slit, so, heels it must be.  Another $100 bucks for shoes?  No thanks.  To the clearance rack! Clearance isn't really my thing, since I can never find anything I like (hence why the shoes are on clearance, right?), but sometimes, a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do.  I had a fleeting thought to buy silver shoes; after all, where would I wear silver shoes but at a ball?  Alas, there were none in my size.  Sigh.  So, I settled for some black ones, and headed to checkout.  But then...lo and behold...the salesman was marking boxes of shoes for clearance, and they just happen to be the silver version of the black shoes I was planning to buy!

That was the moment when I started to wonder if I might just pull this whole thing off.

Of course, the drive home is always about buyer's remorse.  Should've gone with the black.  What will it look like when I get home and the light isn't flattering anymore?  It's doesn't quite look right in the back, and no time for alterations; will my wrap cover that? What if I get laughed at for wearing a bright blue/purple dress?  Who am I to think I could look good among women who make it their life's work to look spectacular even when walking the dog?  And so on.

Only tomorrow's ball will tell, but for now, I'm enjoying the thought of my $15 silver shoes and successful shopping venture.  Gus-Gus and his pals did well, and I don't have mean stepsisters to rip my dress to shreds and thus require the fairy godmother to bail me out. 

I'm kind of pysched to be going to a ball.  See you at midnight in the pumpkin coach.