how it goes

G told me that he still checks my blog every couple weeks.

Guess what. I also check my blog every now and then, read up on old crushes or smaller stories. I do plan on writing more regularly again. So come back. Life is starting to stabilize, or at least the landscape is starting to become familiar. I am starting to recognize the new things in my life like they are the old regulars. Its a pretty good feeling.

...aaannnnnndddddd... I never did post our summer to do list - of which we did most. So here it is, better late than never:

- Have a party for no apparent reason
- Go on adventures
- Go to the pool
- Learn a new instrument
- Have a lemonade stand
- Water Balloon Fight
- Make fashions for Barbie Dolls
- Go to a Water Park
- Play Baseball at School
- Go on a Vacation
- Amusement Park
- Go to the Movie Theater
- Get Ice Cream
- Go on a walk
- Make an Obstacle Course
- Go to the Creek
- Do Detective Work
- Invent a cool machine
- Pick up litter
- Have Jam Sessions
- Read and go to the Library
- Have a Dance Party
- Go to X’s House
- Have friends over
- Sleepover party
- Have a Tea party
- Go see a Play
- Play at open mic night at The Soundry
- Baltimore Science Museum
- Building Museum
- Go to an island
- Camping
- Turn a whole room into a fort
- Costume Contest
- Do an Art Project
- See Cousins
- Have a Movie Night
- Write a Play
- Write a Song
- Write a Story
- Play a music concert
- HAVE MORE FUN THAN EVER!!!!!!

so verrrrrryyyyy

It's July. JULY. I am a bad blogger. i have not even read some blogs in months. Most blogs. Pretty much every blog is unread. I have been busy. I was in a couple shows, both came out very nicely. I produced my theatre company's first show. It was very great. A lot of very's. Very very happy to be done with the spring. I always try to not bring parenthood into the subject of my theatre pursuits, but the plain truth is that doing back to back shows and working and running the theatre company is enough for anyone. But add to that my smallers and it can feel like one is being drawn and quartered.

I have decided to take the summer off. As much as I can at least. No performing. It's always hard to say no to a part, hell even an audition. But I am so burnt right now i might crumble to a pile of ash if I take on anything else.

Plus I like having a little more hang time with the smallers. They are cool. I promise to publish the 'Summer To Do List' soon. I have had multiple folks ask about it. Yes it is written, and yes it is on the fridge, and yes we have already checked off a bunch.

My buddy P wants to hang out next week. I said 'Absolutely - just don't make me go to a show.' I want to sit in the sunshine or soak in some night air and do something that is not ART.

You can't make me.

Rehearsing a show. Working on the theatre company. A lot. After a dry spell, I got a bunch of freelance work too. I am also trying to spend as much attention and time on the Smallers as possible.

I feel a little like Fullerton's gals. Flying through my world with out any real control. Just imagined.

I saw In Between when it was in DC last year. I love her work.

click, clickity, clunk

I have written a couple starts to my 'Farewell to Blogging' post, and find that I just can't do it. I can't let go. Since starting the theatre company I write like have not written since...well ever.

I write passion statements, mission statements, donor letters, budgets, grant proposals, contracts, bylaws, fundraising strategies, marketing material, web content, play synopses, emails, emails, emails, project proposals, code of ethics, agendas, and emails, emails, emails. I am burning out all the time and have little...well ok, nothing left that I feel the need to write about. I wish I could just have a conversation instead of having to type. But I don't want to talk about the theatre company; because I spend every day pitching it, and selling it, and convincing people to give me money, and space, and time and stuff, for it.

I would rather talk about what you are doing. I really, really would.

I hope you are well bloggy folk. I still read what you are writing, even if I am off the radar. I read your hi jinks, Isaac, and yours too, Matt. I keep up with you, Adam, and you Sheila (can't wait to meet the kid in person when your in town next). I can't stop visiting Dup, just to see how the west coast is going, and I am so sad that Rorschach has taken a blogging hiatus (I miss their tomfoolery). I keep up with Grote and Daisy and meander through countless other blogs as often as possible. I adore all you troublemakers.

But.... I cannot keep up with it all. I have smallers for Christ's sake. If you are in DC and want to chat. Let's go for a drink.

So I am not saying goodbye, but I am continuing my break, sabbatical, what have you. Keep blogging and talk to you soon.

a well a well a well a huh

I am in the belly of THE MAN's house as I type this post. My last day. Oh wait...did I say that right? YES I DID! This. Is. My. Last. Day. Working on this contract. I never have to come here again. Hallefrickinlujah!

I cannot explain to you what this gray, fluorescent dungeon does to me. I feel pastey and dry and cardboardy when I am here. THE MAN wants to take away my spark, chutzpah, charm, the thing that makes me, me.

But enough. I am here writing on THE MAN's dime, and then I shall walk out into the sunshine and be free. Free to soak in the summer with the smallers in between my busy nights. The smallers have put together their annual 'Summer To Do' list, which I will be sure to share at a later time.

So, yes, I have been busy. I have had some big graphic design jobs, rehearsals for my summer show as well as for one of the pieces in the Source Festival.

Now I plug something I think is way cool. The Source Festival. Go to it. The building looks amazing and the lineup of artists is so rock and roll that it makes me feel like I am uber groovy for being in there with them.

The other thing I have been busy with is my new baby. You heard it here folks. I have given birth to a bouncing baby theatre company! I will pass out cigars once our non profit status is finalized. Yup, we have a board and bylaws, a website in the building, and a million other things I won't name, and all the crazy amount of work that one could ask for in five lifetimes. But she is here and she is already loved, and she is already proving to be a lot of trouble, but gosh darn it she is going to grow up to be beautiful. She has so much potential.

For the moment that is all the sharing I got in me. More soon.

there goes my food porn

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!

and you tube

I apologize for the sparsity of my posting. I have been working and working and working.

Then I have been escaping.

Escaping into red wine, and a two hour nap on Friday (that was not so much a snooze as it was my body and brain's unwillingness to do any more). Escaping into Havarti cheese with whole wheat crackers, and late night viewings of Iron Chef America, and Jeannette Winterson's Sexing the Cherry, and the Smallers. They are funny, those guys.

Smallest says in her chirpy voice "I love Indiana Jones, he is so hot, he is my boyfriend."

She says "Call me gorgeous, not like I look gorgeous, like its my name."

She says "Today at preschool Jake choked up a gabioli and I was like....gross." (Gabioli = ravioli)

Great escapes.

clocks melting all over

I have been in that kind of busy that you look up and the days have catapulted away from you in some frenetic calendar malfunction.

And during it all Smallest got the stomach flu and got better, then I got the stomach flu and got better, then Smaller injured his collarbone, and is recovering, then I broke a tooth and have to be at the dentist later today for the requisite pain to my mouth and my wallet.

When waiting for Smaller to get x-rayed I skimmed some magazines. Evidently actresses are preggers a lot right now and all the rags call them baby bumps. It keeps saying 'sporting a baby bump' - like its a fashion choice. 'Bump' somehow minimizing the size of it. Bump - like speed bump. A) it feels a might bigger than a bump when you are carrying that sucker, and B) that 'bump' does anything but slow life down.

Moving on from the Hollywood world I picked up this magazine, which I honestly had no idea even existed and made me wonder what kind of establishment was currently studying my smaller's bones.

Garden and Gun says G&G is a southern lifestyle magazine that's all about the magic of the New South — the sporting culture, the food, the music, the art, the literature, the people, and the ideas. It espouses a strong conservation ethic that grows out of its connection to the land, and it reveals the beauty of the South as no magazine ever has.

Now this very well may be the greatest magazine on earth, but all I could see was that in the same magazine that you can send in questions to The Flower Doctor, you also can get a top ten gun pick. These are the moments where I look around and stop and wonder "How and when did I get here? Who are these tiny people who keep asking me questions? Who thought that the title Garden and Gun was anything but an SNL skit?"

Surreal couple weeks.

hemming is not so haw

I have about 5 posts written that need to be edited, but for the time being they remain in limbo. Here is my cop out.

The Decision
by Jane Hirshfield

There is a moment before a shape
hardens, a color sets.
Before the fixative or heat of   kiln.
The letter might still be taken
from the mailbox.
The hand held back by the elbow,
the word kept between the larynx pulse
and the amplifying drum-skin of the room’s air.
The thorax of an ant is not as narrow.
The green coat on old copper weighs more.
Yet something slips through it —
looks around,
sets out in the new direction, for other lands.
Not into exile, not into hope. Simply changed.
As a sandy track-rut changes when called a Silk Road:
it cannot be after turned back from.

just like that civilization

As per the norm, when I get really inundated and feel overwhelmed by it all, the urge to sell all my possessions and travel the world as a nomadic thrill seeker sets in. Today I would like to go to Machu Picchu.

Anyone game? Come on... look at it! How can you say no?

get that black hole a burger

Last week I wrote a post about waiting for a friend to die. Stage 4 cancer. 14 months of hanging on. She ended up dying two days ago. It was a relief. I went to her memorial yesterday after work and smallers, and before dialect coaching and seeing friends. I did not post what I had written. It was sentimental and the self editor in me took over. So like many posts, it sits in draft form in blogger as a kind of marker for me about what was going on with my life that was not fodder for web consumption.

What is it about sending our electronic words out into the cavernous digital void that leaves us feeling protected? It is so open and scary. I worry all the time about sharing too much. Do you? Cavernous digital void, do you worry about sharing too much? No you don't. You greedy, insatiable bastard. The bigger question is, why do so many feel the need to feed the void?

Anyone?

Anyone?

even with a minivan

MILF stands for Mom I'd Like to Fuck. So sweet. Endearing really. This term has become standard in our modern day lexicon, has it not? Well as a mom, and as an individual who has had this term used about my person, I want to make sure that everyone knows that this degenerate feminist, likes being called a MILF.

I know I am not supposed to. I know it really supports the assumption that once you are a mom, you could not possibly just be fuckable. You have to be fuckable for a mom. Right? Like we have to overcome the wear and tear to try and keep up with the unprocreating hotties. I recently had a discussion with a mom who had a lengthy tirade about the term MILF. How offensive it was, how degrading. I just could not buy into it. Maybe its because I like that the term makes the exception. I like that it gives me two distinctions. Mother and good looking. Yes, it is vanity people. I know that. Stop rolling your eyes. But it is damn hard to be a mom. It is work I tell you and I like getting credit for being one. I also enjoy being called hot, whether by mr. hpmelon, or by the random guy in the bar who yelled it out way to loudly and embarrassed me... but only for a minute.

stuffed

Yesterday started off at something like 70 degrees. Incredible. I got up, prepped turkey and stuffing. Set up the house for the influx of 22 people, sent siblings for last minute trips to grocery stores and at around noon went for a run. My only solo moment of the day. Beautiful outside. Gorgeous leaves falling. Sweet, wonderful run. So perfect. I am so thankful for that short moment.

Thankfulness wants to be expressed to someone, something. Thank you cosmos. Thank you friends. Thank you family.

A couple days ago I was using the dust buster on the stairs and my mother, who was visiting, ran around the corner asking what was making that noise. I held up the dust buster. "Oh, that was eerie." she said "It sounded just like when the sirens go off (in Israel) telling us to get in the shelters."

Thank you for my loved ones being safe so far.

All of my siblings were together yesterday. All seven of us. That is extremely rare. Thank you for our family bond. We are tight and we are friends and we laugh and play together really well. Thank you for the smallers. There were eight of them here yesterday. Thank you for the 'show' they put on for us. Thank you for their inability to keep quiet 'backstage'. It was better than the show. Thank you for the peace that descended when they were finally asleep.

Thank you for it all.

I am a griper. I will go back to griping tomorrow. I do not enjoy Christmas. I, in fact, wish I could keep my blissful Thanksgiving and burrow with it underground until after the New Year.

That is not to be. But for today. Thank you, thank you.

slight drop

So pretty much everything I said would happen, did happen in the Caribbean. The card games were epic, the volleyball was legendary. Much, much mischief occurred. Oh right, and a beautiful wedding that was both laid back and intimate.

On the last leg of our flight back we had some pretty nasty turbulence. I thought of a couple of my friends who are extremely fearful of flying. One in particular. I grew up traveling internationally, but when I go through a patch like that I still turn to look at the flight attendants. If you see them worrying then something is really wrong. The first time I realized that, was coming into Heathrow airport when I was 10 years old. The entire flight had been smooth, and then about 15 minutes from London it got stormy. There was some major shaking and at one point it seemed like the plane free fell for a few seconds. When that happened I saw our flight attendant frantically scramble for her seat and her face was no longer placid, but decidedly strained. That was my most scary moment flying ever. Her face said it all.

Obviously we pulled through, and landed just fine. Then and now.

I actually laughed after the turbulence ended. Partially from relief I guess. Partially because of when it happened. At the end of the trip, three kids at home, me still in my strappy little summer dress with jeans underneath and a sweater over it. So close to Thanksgiving. Will they pull through? How very holiday movie reel. I know the comedy is a little black. But still funny to me.

Now on to turkey day, which I like, then to the dreaded Christmas, which I hate. I am never peaceful until after the New Year. I have a horde coming over on Thursday...so off I go.

definately skinny dipping

Within the next week my family will slowly migrate here and then in one fell swoop we will all depart to the Caribbean for a destination wedding.

The beach. Mid 80's. I am literally pining for this time. Five days. No smallers. Myself and Mr. hpmelon and my family and friends and the wide open beach.

I will float in the big blue ocean. I love running on the beach. I will do that too. No ipod needed, just beach sounds. I will drink whenever I feel like it. Eat whatever I want. I will snorkel, and read, and hike, and play with my many siblings. We will be loud and funny and finish each others sentences, and get really competitive during beach volleyball, and get so silly while playing cards that our level of obnoxiousness will quickly remove any in-laws from the mix. We will start talking in funny voices that are hysterical only to us. We will speak in code as we always do when we are around each other for more than a day. We will probably fight. We always fight. We always make up. Quickly. And laugh about it. High tempers, high forgiveness. We will get drunk, very drunk. We will start daring each other, and we will all do the dares. The in-laws will return for this. They love this. Watching our bravado. When we feel like Titans. We are a fantastic show.

Or maybe we will just sleep and be boring a laze around on the beach. That could happen too. It would be a first, but you never know. Either way sounds perfectly great to me.

So soon, I can taste it.

it's not like it's bad for me

I have a bad habit. One that I love and will never let go of. I am a horrible gum popper. Chewing gum. Orbitz is my preferred gum of choice. I love doing it. I have a special talent for popping gum really loudly. Really, really loudly. It drives my family nuts, so I cannot do it around them. When I am driving by myself, or working at home (which I have been doing since I started this contract job, but I will soon have to show my face in the office and the true misery will begin) I chomp and pop away. And i love it. It is so supremely satisfying.

If you are still there faithful readers please share your bad habit. I would love to know.

air up there

Oh hello world.

I am beginning to awaken from my summerness.

Last week we rented a place in the Blue Ridge Mountains. The air is at least 10 degrees cooler up there. We hiked, canoed, swam in the lake, played games, watched Seinfeld. I went on one morning hike that left my quads shaking and a loopy smile on my face. I recently read On Beauty by Zadie Smith. In it, one of her characters talks about her poetry in the early years versus her later ones.

Theirs was the poetry of character, of romantic personalities, of broken hearts and emotional warfare. Claire, who had experienced more than enough of this in her life, populated her poems these days with New England foliage, wildlife, creeks, valleys and mountain ranges.

I have always been in love with nature. As I may have mentioned before, I grew up climbing trees, and running barefoot. I and my family camped, hiked and swam in the great outdoors. I had the ocean and rivers, mountains and deserts, and a stint in the lush gardens and hills of England. We weren't ones for pools or treadmills. I still can't run indoors on a track or machine, it feels claustrophobic. As I stood in the morning breeze overlooking a valley and scaling the rocks to get a better view I thought of the passage above. About the heartbeat of the earth and how you can only hear it when there is nothing else to distract you. About how my teen and college years could have been bereft of wildlife if my parents had not instilled in me from youth this comfort with dirt. I could have been simply boy crazy and fashion obsessed and brace faced. As it turned out, I was those things as well as being opened to what being in nature does. I have vivid memories of swimming across a chilly river in Hawaii just where river meets the ocean. I remember the current and its strength, how I started off way upstream so that by the time my skinny arms and legs got me across I was just where a waterfall dumped into the fray. Such success, such pride to have made it there. To lay on the rocks and listen to all that water collide. I remember filling an empty, plastic milk jug with water and freezing it overnight, so that my brother and I could trek across the Nevada desert toward the Sierras and have the water slowly melt as we went; and what the desert sky looked like after that long desert hike with its dry heat and blaring sunshine. The stars in the desert are your reward for its lack of green. That sky that taught me my constellations.

I hope to take my smallers to these places and let them see it all. That hike was wonderful, and we took them on a shorter version the next day. They loved it. It really was just beautiful up there.

over the bridge

Every time I drive into the city and see the roadside billboards that say "Report suspicious activities. Call xxx-xxx-xxxx" I get shivers. It makes me feel like I am in a sci fi/urban futuristic movie. I know I always say that I feel like I am in a movie, but that is my general sensation whenever I feel like life is getting away from me. Reporting on others so randomly is like spreading mass Big Brother vibes. My guess is for every one credible call there are hundreds of paranoid untruths that are also reported. Or, no one calls and it is there for a placebo effect to assure us that someone is always watching over us. Well, its freaky to think of the common citizen being empowered to tattle; and it's unnerving to think that my actions are being weighed as suspicious or not suspicious.

Who is watching?

little bit of me

I have been tagged by Parabasis for a MEME. So here goes.

Bloggers must post these rules and provide eight random facts about themselves. In the post, the tagged blogger tags eight other bloggers and notify them that they have been tagged.

My random facts are...

1)I like reading MEME's on other peoples blogs. I like getting tagged for MEME's. I have a hard time writing them about myself and am tempted to make shit up. But I won't.

2) I am a phenomenal parallel parker. I wish it was a competitive sport.

3) I always talk about cutting my hair really short, but either chicken out, or get a role that wants me to have long hair, and use that as an excuse.

4) My favorite holiday's are Halloween and Thanksgiving. They are all about fun, friends, and food, and I don't have to buy or receive tons of useless shit.

5) I love performing Shakespeare, but rarely enjoy watching it.

6) Before I buy a new outfit I have to dance in it in the dressing room. It is the only way to know if it looks right.

7) Most of my stories from my childhood in Hawaii mention fruit or climbing in fruit trees.

8) I believe that I will someday win the lottery, but I have only bought a ticket once, 4 years ago.

I tag Penguingirl, City Mouse, Playmaker, DCeiver, and anybody else who feels like chiming in.

this and that

A few things.

This article on theatre in Iraq made me remember how lucky I am to get to do what I do.

I watched The History Boys on DVD last night. I love witty repartee, and I wish I had seen that cast on stage.

The Obies have had their say.

Sorry it's just a few links, but that is all I have for now. Ha cha cha cha.