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Hey, stop looking at me like that....
Saturday, August 28, 2004 I'm making fun of muyself over last week's post. I'm goofy...at least I'm getting published with a wonderful publisher.
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One thing that I'm happy about is that, in my absense, the ability to hit enter and actually get a cairrage return in Blogger has come back tome me. :-) I try and aprieciate the tiny things, because it's often the tiniest things that give you the most trouble.
Monday I try to get online. I can't. So I do all the standard stuff: run Norton, defrag the computer, run Fix it For Me (an AOL thing) until I finlly give up and decide to call AOL for help. The static's so bad on the phone I can't hear the person. So, I deicde to try and get through to the phone company.
I went over to visit Nichole's Blogger, and saw this quiz. I can't resist a quiz, as you well know...
I've been hearing it a lot in my head, of late, and I wonder where it's coming from:
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Saturday, August 21, 2004
If I elaborate on that anymore, I'm sure I'll see the phallacy in that statement, so let's move on.
I'm still working on my website, but what's taken the wind out of my sails is the fact that...and I've been putting off telling you this...that the date for publication of my book isn't scheduled for ages and ages. Years, even. So I've stopped even bothering to tell people that i'm getting published...what would the point be? If they ask when I have to admit to some date way off in the future, and it no longer matters.
But I still think I'll go ahead and make changes. Just because, as you know, I can hardly be satisfied with how my website looks for longer than a half a year or so.
That's life, you know. You have all these great plans, and something happens, and life/fate/etc runs around going "neener, neener!" while you're laying flat on your back going "Wha?"
Ah well. Now I have more time to plan. (cue evil laughter, here.)
Permalink Cindy scribed this at 10:08 PM
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Hah. A good reason for not blogging....
Friday, August 20, 2004
Despite the (crackle) fact (snap! Popcrackle!) that they could barely hear me, they (crackle! crackle more!) decided that my problem wasn't a complete loss of service, and that therefore I didn't need to be fixed right away. So several days passed. I eventually managed to call and annoy them enough times that they finally came out and fixed the wire. :(
This morning.
I can't beleive how connected I am to the net. I kept wondering what things were getting bounced out of my Hotmail account, worrying over the chat I would miss (Netera is an ANGEL) wondering if there were projects I was missing out on. And I didn't get much more done than I would have.
So, to celebrate being online, I'm going to pot my quiz result! Just because I think the picture is too cute.
You are Puppet Pal Snape, the Potions master! we
love you! :)
Which Potter Puppet Pal are you?
brought to you by Quizilla
Permalink Cindy scribed this at 8:37 PM
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I'm a what? Dude!
Thursday, August 12, 2004
You're a Spirograph!! You're pretty tripped out,
even though you've been known to be a bit
boring at times. You manage to serve your
purpose in life while expending hardly any
effort (and are probably stoned to the gills
all the while).
What childhood toy from the 80s are you?
brought to you by Quizilla
Yes, it is a bit of a shock...
Permalink Cindy scribed this at 6:07 PM
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Walking shadows
Wednesday, August 11, 2004
"Out, out brief candle, life is but a walking shadow, a poor player who struts and frets his hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more. It is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing."
Pretty good from memory, eh?
I learned it in High School. It always loved it, loved anything to do with MacBeth....I still, in odd moments, know that I would love to play Lady M. on the stage someday. To me MacBeth is not a tale of over riding greed so much as a story of incredible passion...those two loved each other, and when they let the desire for power take over, they lost that love. which is why, when (spoiler) Lady MacBeth jumps out of the castle window and dies on the cobblestones below, all Macbeth can summon to say when he hears of it is "She should have died hereafter."
Knowing this has served me in weird ways. I went, during my freshman year of college, to a play audition. I believe it was for "All my Sons". Everyone's doing these peices, and I'm like, oh, screw. I didn't know, you see, that people, when they auditioned, performed things. The only audition I'd gone to previously they handed out partial scripts.
So my turn came. I walked up onto the stage, and I ripped into MacBeth's farewell speech to his wife. Then I got off stage, walked up to the man running the auditions, and said, "I'll go now, ok?" But he said, "No, I'd like you to stay." Afterwards, I was one of the ones called to go downstair...where we got partial scripts, and I actually made the Director blink with the vehemency with which I dove into the dialoge. I looked at my fellow auditioners, and two of them grinned at me...and I knew I was ok.
I got the part. I was the mother in all my sons, for about two weeks. I lost the part when I had to go to Florida, because my grandmother died and I needed to help straighten things out.
I will never know if I lost the part because I wasn't good enough...I think I'd gone to two, maybe three rehearsals, and I remeber being uncomfortable...or because of expeidiency. I don't think I lost the role because I sat in the bathroom one night, feeling 0ut of My Element, begging God to deliver me. I was invited to audition again, in the vauge, polite way, and I always got along with the director, but I never tried again, even when the play was Dracula.
Sometimes I wish I had. I'd gotten into publications by this time, and was distracted that way, but soemtimes I wonder what i missed. It's become one of those odd things with me, I always loved acting, felt like I would be very good at it, but on the other hand now fear I'd be too terrified to do it. Now I almost want to do it to face myself down. Prove to myself that I can do it. It's one of those wistful things, and sometimes I laugh at myself over it. I think we all want to act, sometimes. I see it as story telling in another way, making words real for a time.
Permalink Cindy scribed this at 5:38 PM
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