Today I had to count the boxes of things, figure out how much we use per show, and then when we need to order more.
It's almost as much fun as labeling my notebooks at the beginning of the semester, and might be MORE fun than planning out my four-year prospective class schedule.
heeheeheehee!
The conversation on the way there in the sub was interesting, though I heard it in bits and pieces over Austen's music as Aaron and Liz argued themselves in circles. The debate was over love, and the part I picked up on was: does love grow in amount over time, or is the amount constant, but the aspect of love within that constant shifting. At least, I think that's what it was. I drew a chart.
On the way back I programmed Grusha (Our GPS system) without Julie's help with much rejoicing at the end! Hurrah! Even through she did take us the back....wards way into Milwaulkee at the end. We only nearly pulverized a small car with the sub and drama trailer as we got on a highway, only to exit .3 miles later. I bet he had to change his clothes when he got home...
We reached a unanimous decision in under one minute.
Needless to say we're all very tired. And today was our last day to call for lines, so after spending the last two hours doing last minute alterations, I've got to nail down some monologues...
Friday morning I found out that I was supposed to perform for a drama workshop at the Northwest Missions Conference. It was supposed to be on a volunteer basis, but they decided that a scene from the show would be more effective than a sketch. So Vanessa and I spent Friday after teardown rehearsing for that.
It went well this morning. Tasha gave the same information we were presenting in that scene in lecture format. Then we did the scene, and the group talked about what information came across better, how much can be inferred from drama without actually giving the facts, etc. Then they broke into groups and improvised their own scenes.
After that was over, we opted to stay at the conference to hear Joanne Shetler speak in a formal setting (Friday morning she'd talked with us about our characters for three hours, and the night before we'd trapped her at the table with pronunciation questions). We had to sit through an hour worth of church before she got up to speak, which I found a bit odd. They took an offering and sang some songs and a woman in the corner danced (a little distracting) and finally Jo spoke. Her talk was great, as usual - we're already familiar with the story, but it's great to hear her actually saying the words that became my lines in the show. (We use some of the same gestures. That was heartening)
After that we went around to a few booths that looked interesting, and then went home. I worked on my lines this evening, and I've got everything fairly well memorized except for John 3:16 in Balangao, which became my lines on Thursday. Tomorrow I'm taking the afternoon off and catching up on my postcards, letters and emails. Every night this week has been spent in the script.
My favorite story in the show isn't even in the script, though it's referred to.
One of the most difficult passages to translate was from John 3:16 "shall not perish." Doming and Jo threw many ideas around, such as "shall not pass away" (like floating down a river?), "shall not be swept down the river" (what if they need to go down the river, and the Bible told them not to), and "shall not expire" (Like lettuce? Like wilt?). Nothing ever seemed to fit.
Later, Jo was at home with her friend Tekla and her children. In a culture of headhunters, it wasn't strange for an exasperated parent to tell their children, "I'm going to kill you!" Jo didn't feel comfortable with that, so she told a child she was going to "throw you away!" In a culture where face to face confrontations weren't acceptable, Tekla turned on her and told her never to say that to a child.
Jo was mystified. Tekla explained that killing someone took purpose and intent. To throw something away meant that it was essentially meaningless and without value. Jo had finally found the right word.
"Creator-God so loved the people of the world he gave his only child, that whosoever believes/obeys him will not be thrown away, but live forever with him."
Today was all blocking, all day. My character almost never leaves stage, so this afternoon alone I was up there for five hours. I love what I do. I'm so tired!
Tomorrow we block the rest of Act II. We got all of Act one done today. Act two is shorter, but also has the crash scene with all the (eventual) blood and screaming and writhing.
And lines are supposed to be memorized by Monday.
I love the theatrical process. We still did improv - not my best skill. Although speaking of skills, my grandmother will be glad to learn I am now singing in the show. One verse from a hymn, but she was all up in arms about to call Wycliffe and demand I sing between acts. This should make her happy. Or perhaps give her more ideas (well, you're singing now -- they should have you do more!).
And I talked to my friend Mary tonight, who said I couldn't work on lines tonight until I did something fun first. So I'm blogging. I tried to go to Dairy Queen, but I've misplaced my ATM card (hopefully I didn't leave it at the kiosk last night) so no blizzards for me tonight.
Back to the grindstone!
It's not the ice that fouls up the system. It's the lack of it.
And P.S. Car covers are even harder to put on than take off coated in ice. Funny how heavy it gets.
I worked on my lines tonight with Vicky. Knowing the show already has helped, although the new script revisions make it hard to remember when a line has changed tense, or been given to another character. It's coming along. Our last cast member comes in tomorrow, so we should start blocking, or at least do another read-through Monday.
Another thing I learned again today -- four cups of coffee on an empty stomach isn't a good idea.
The Dinner Theater is supposed to be presenting at a missions conference in a few weeks. We only found out about it a few days ago, and none of us know yet what exactly that will entail. Surprise!
My sister got a new job, which is very exciting considering how upset she's been about the old one.
And last night I got a chance to sing because everyone was out of the house. I need some voice lessons badly, but even worse I need real music. I was trying to remember songs I used to be able to accompany myself to, and they all ended up in the same key (The same one as Memory from Cats). I just resorted to drowning out my wrong chords, and since no one was listening, it didn't really matter.
Then tonight, after dinner we played Pictionary. My team was behind the whole game (we kept rolling 1's) but two fives and a couple of good clues gave us the lead right at the end. There was a lot of screaming on our side. The other team claims they lost unfairly due to their newly acquired hearing loss. Bull.
Tomorrow we'll have a completed script, and blocking should commence. Hopefully without games. Though, I suppose being stretched is 'a good thing.'
When I finally started just doing things that I saw needed to be done it was frustrating. People don't spend nearly as much time looking at you as you'd think. Or would like. And it was a temptation every time to let people know what you'd done if they didn't seem to be catching onto your subtle glow of martyrdom. But that defeats the purpose.
Proverbs tells us to never let praise come out of your own lips -- and I'll hunt down the reference in a minute. And the New Testament (I'm not even going to guess at the book) says to 'do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit.'
I had more failures than successes over Christmas. But I found those times that I did something and didn't allow myself the privledge of gloating over it afterwards built the most character.
We just had a meeting to remind the returning team members:
1) This tour is not the last one, it is not a continuation, it is a new tour. These are new people. Dynamics will change.
2) Remember what we learned the last time and apply it this time.
So what did I learn last tour? The admonition to not let the sun go down on your anger is not just poetry or a helpful hint. As far as relationships go, especially in close quarters, wait long enough that you aren't still simmering, but go and talk with them. Work out the misunderstandings and miscommunication. Don't assume anything. Apologize where needed, and confront where needed. Always think the best of the other person's intentions, especially when you're furious.
Relational problems that aren't dealt with right away fester, and grow out of proportion, and then come back to bite you when you least expect it, in a situation that doesn't merit that kind of emotional outburst. And a broken relationship with one person will affect your relationship with the other 12 people. Don't expect it not to. And one bad comment to someone else in the heat of anger can put ideas into someone else's head about that person. They'll never look at you or them the same way.
And having said this, I can expect to be tested on it. Isn't that the way it always works.
My Dad's school's fire alarm went off four times the week before Christmas. The fourth time, the janitor went up on the roof and inspected things, and found that a sensor in the ducts was malfunctioning and setting off the alarms. The kids were gathered in the gym after the drill to explain what was happening. When they went to music class, my dad asked them what had happened.
"A flock of censored ducks landed on the roof and set off the alarm."
In the children's Bible study, they were studying the second great commandment, "Love your neighbor as yourself". This child asked her teacher, "Does that mean we have to love Satan too?"
The two thoughts coming to my mind (I've been reading Lewis all day) are, does God love Satan, and did he weep for him when he fell?
My parents still own the house I grew up in, and have it rented out. When my stuff made the move from Southern California (not to be confused with the stuff that hasn't moved from Waco, Texas) it ended up there instead of at their new house. So before I go back on tour I had a list of things to go find. Namely my "Mutual Funds for Dummies" book, and the suits I'm shipping to my sister for her round of job interviews. So I found myself parking in front of the house -- no one was home, walking around the side yard, and breaking into what used to be my Dad's drum studio with a butter knife. It's a trick I learned when I was, I don't know, 10. Maybe 12. And I'm not sure why I'd even want to break in there -- maybe I learned that when it was still his shop. And I'd break in to steal tools to build chairs with one leg too short for the tree house. Funny story about that chair, by the way. My sister was trying to reach something, and didn't notice that the short leg was off the edge of the deck. Of course the chair tilted, and she fell, hitting her head on the tree branch that our rope swing was tied to on the way down. Which was good, because she got knocked out and didn't feel it when she landed on a shovel.
So if tomorrow I'm blogging from jail, you'll know why. My boot prints through the snow should make it pretty darn clear that SOMEBODY was in their back yard. It wouldn't take Lord Peter to figure it out.
And soon it will be time to file for 2004. Blech.
A commentary I read in some church, somewhere on tour translated shifting shadows as an eclipse. The Eclipse image resonated with me. Isn't that sometimes how we see hardship? When the bad times come it's easy to think that God's goodness is somehow being overshadowed. Why can't he just break through and take it all away.
The sun isn't really being covered by the moon. It's an illusion. (Like those pictures we take, where your best friend is standing on your hand) The moon can only hide the sun from us because we are so small. Easier said than done, but when hardships come it would be good to remember that God cannot be blocked. We cannot see him sometimes because of circumstances, but he does not change.
South-Asia Tsunami and Earthquake Blog
It's the artsiest pair of jeans I've ever worn, but they should hold out. And there's room for more souvenir patches... I like getting to be creative. And I got to watch Sabrina. That is one of my favorite movies, and always makes me want to move to Paris immediately. French people may smoke too much as a whole, but I think they know how to live better than we do, for all money and stuff.
"The French work as hard as anyone, they just know when to quit."
"ron weasley's least favorite sandwich filling"
I think we can safely say that none of them are British.
"Authentic Filipino dinners are available from 4 to 6:30 p.m. at the Filipino-American Hall in Wapato.
Thursday: Chicken adobo, pork stir fry, pancit, rice, cookie or fresh fruit."
Ha. We serve a cookie and fruit.
So I'm here. I need to unpack my car and take a shower.
Oh, and on a slightly *sigh* ironic note, I drove RIGHT PAST my exit for tour in a few days...At 9:17 last night.
I spent mine bartending for about a zillion kids at a kareoke party.
I woke up ready to finish out my year end financial report with Wendy, then head to Sacramento to crash at my sister's house on leg one of my trip back to the Northwest. I got as far as the Albertson's parking lot in Buellton. And Chloe, excuse me -- there's just no other way of putting this -- messed all over herself and Cai, and their carrier.
So I let them out of the cage, not knowing the extent of the damage, and ran into Riteaid to grab baby wipes. By the time I'd got back out there, they'd climbed all over my car, spreading the refuse on EVERYTHING. I spent half an hour in a parking lot, with people looking on, trying to clean cat....stuff... Off them, my things, and my bleeding CAR. Then I stuffed them both into the smaller carrier, threw away the bigger one (because I didn't pay enough for it to merit cleaning the hassle of trying to find a place in a parking lot to clean it out), and then had to drive six hours in a car that smelled suspiciously like cat feces and baby wipes.
OH I HOPE the next day or two of this drive don't go as badly as the first one.
And all the books say that cats can hold it for days if they need to. Bloody cat!
