Shenzhou

Ikea Death

2008-10-14T16:56:00.003-04:00

This is a veiled message to tell you that you need to grow up and get over it.

A Memorial of Little Importance

2008-09-11T21:08:00.011-04:00

It happens like clockwork. I wake up at 5:45 am, restless, and, in the haze of agitation from the sleepless night before, I get ready for the day in the same fashion I did seven years ago. I do this until I come to the realization that I am no longer in that place and time. I no longer have the same apartment, girlfriend, job, or hands, for that matter.

I try to go back to sleep but my mind and body have already begun the forward motion of reliving the past with such incredible inertia that it would be a lie to close my eyes again. And so, I lie awake. Try to count things. How many ceiling tiles I have, the number of times I’ve blinked over the course of a minute, my heartbeat.

I try to prioritize my day, but even this simple task becomes a futile exercise of past events. Because there is no slipping quietly out of bed so as not to wake Erin, no taking Miles for his morning walk, no eggs and coffee that tastes like Christmas, no grabbing my bag, or checking that I have transit passes in my wallet before gently closing an orange apartment door. There is no call to my cell phone while on the R7 asking if I’m ok, no bus ride from Trenton to Princeton because all trains are being held without explanation, no watching the passengers smiling in ignorance. No watching the second tower fall on a small television in the McCarter green room, no watching the man jump before.

And tonight I wont stay at the Holiday Inn with the only two cast-mates that made it out of New York.

All that is gone now.

I try to act as if nothing is wrong.
I think about calling people I care about.
I think about calling the people I was with seven years ago.
But I realize that too much time has passed.
And that not enough time has passed.

I watched the news this morning instead. MSNBC was playing their newsreel congruent with today’s time. As if it were happening all over again. The clock on my VCR and that of the one on television in grotesque and compliant harmony. Today was the first time I have ever seen all the day’s events play out as they happened seven years ago. I hadn’t the heart or stomach to until now.

It has become a blur that I remember with inexorable lucidity.

It is the only memory that I watch over my shoulder rather than through my own eyes.

2008-09-05T00:14:00.000-04:00

2008-04-03T16:54:00.003-04:00

Hey Everyone! Listen to my Underwater remix of "Nude" and vote.

Thanks.

~Mouse

Comments

2008-02-12T23:30:00.003-05:00

I have no problem with folks leaving comments. However, I encourage you to leave your name when you have something to say. I'm a big boy, I can handle it. We may even be able to have a nice conversation, in which my point of view changes for the better. You never know.

On the flip-side, I understand that, at times, keeping one's identity hidden makes it easier to voice one's opinion and frees one from having to deal with the ramifications of personal expression.

I have to be honest and say that I support anonymity and I won't block it on this site.

That being said, for fun, check out the comments below in "Bear with me."

~Night

Bear with me

2008-02-10T16:18:00.000-05:00

Sorry for being so crabby for the past few months. Coming out of it slowly. I just need more rest and some tlc.

Cherries Jubilee

2008-02-10T16:14:00.000-05:00

Umm... is it okay if I say...Yum!

Saved

2008-01-27T08:50:00.000-05:00

Big Red Shoes,
You have no idea what this means to me.
See you in March, Brother.

Wrapped up, like Hal.

2007-12-21T22:21:00.000-05:00

What I want this year, I cannot have. What I want can’t be purchased and yet it comes at a price I cannot afford. Or rather, I’m not willing to pay. What I want has been given to me many times by many people in many different ways. But so rarely does it come from the right person in the right way. And just as often as I have been careless when I had it, it has it bled from me without asking for any in return. I had not been ready for it and it has not been ready for me. What I want is something like what this was:
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“for ahren in math class from (T.R.) in physics.”

coo, coo, ca, choo….

“Our first ice cream” I laughed when you said it
because i always think of things like that. I am pretty
sure that yesterday was the first time I ever
kissed you in the sunshine. Is that right? Emily
said to me last night, “You + Ahren are so good
for each other. You guys are a lot alike but you’re
different too so you can fill in all the spaces in each
other. Not everyone can do that.”
“Our first ice cream.” It’s so perfect that you said
that. Perfect.

“Your love is better than ice cream, better
than anything else that I’ve tried…”
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

And there it is. As simple and as complicated as it could ever be at a young age. Now there are other things to consider. Distance is harder to bridge. It becomes the space where you wish to raise children, where family and friends are, where careers need to be nurtured. Distance ceases to be a challenge or adventure and turns into a reality and fact of life. And sometimes it cannot be overcome.

And so…

I choose to give up on the notion you will ever come back.
I choose to give up looking for you around every corner.
I choose to wait for you to come to me.
I choose to be mute.
To shut you out.
To sit down right where I am and close my eyes and ears.
To be solitary.
To lock up what little warmth I have left inside me.
To lie, cheat, steal, and scream to keep myself safe.

And I reserve the right to fight you tooth & nail, to the death if necessary.

From now on, to rip it from my chest will take nothing short of grace, divinity, and an army of angels at your back.

“I believe this is heaven to no one else but me. And I’ll defend as long as I can be left here to linger in silence. If I choose to, would you try to understand it?”

My Absinthed Tooth

2007-12-03T18:45:00.000-05:00

Let me think. Of all the things I wish my tooth to be at this exact moment, “abscessed” is sure as hell not one of them!

“Absinthed” - I could handle. The wormwood might actually serve to take the pain away while promoting a health dose of hallucinogenic fun.

“Absent” – Again, it wouldn’t hurt, since it wouldn’t be there.

“Abashed” – This wouldn’t be tough to solve. I’d just say, “Hey tooth, don’t worry. Nothing to be embarrassed about. Buck up, Bro, there’s always a next time!”

“Abseiled” – I think would go into hysterics if I saw my little incisor swing out of my mouth on a floss rig and rappel down my neck.

“Absolved” – This would only happen after a considerable amount of repentance for allowing my sweet-tooth to dictate the staggering volume of comfort food I ate today. (in my defense, ice-cream is cold and helps with swelling)

But alas, I’m not so lucky. I woke up yesterday morning with a toothache. I had suspected that it was the result of me sleeping with my jaw completely clenched. I had spent almost a week at work doing up close to 14hr days (Waxman knows what’s what & she deserves a GD medal!) under a lot of stress and I hadn’t been sleeping very well in the farmhouse (go figure). By 6pm last night my face was swollen and my tooth hurt like a motherfucker. If anyone remembers the television of “Beauty & The Beast” you can get a pretty decent mental image of what my face looked and still looks like. I’ve started to call myself “The Cougar” to keep my in good spirits and to remind myself that people still love me even though I may scare small children at the moment. MB says that the swelling gives me a crooked little smile that is oddly sexy. She is a gem. At any rate, after icing it all night and taking drugs, only to discover that there was now a huge purple bump on my gums above the tooth, I was forced to call my Mother for advice.

She says, “Sounds like you have an abscessed tooth. You need to get to a dentist right away.”

So I called MB and asked her who her dentist was and she suggested that I try T-Shot’s since they’re in the city and close.

So, after scheduling an appointment, I cleaned up and headed out to Goldberg & Weinberg for the final assessment. And indeed my tooth decided that despite my efforts to clean it thoroughly twice a day it wanted to let a bunch of bacteria hang out and have a party and eat away at my skull.

Bad tooth. Bad. That is the last time I leave you alone for the weekend without supervision.

I am currently taking antibiotics and have a root canal scheduled in a few weeks and I’m taking the day off tomorrow to recover. But what really sucks more than all the pain and hassle is that fact that since I look like Quasimodo I may have to cancel a much anticipated date with a very lovely girl.

If my face doesn’t return to normal by Wednesday, and I have to miss this date on Thursday, there may not be a tooth to canal a root in.

Tooth.
I’m not fuckin around.
I will pull you out with my bare hands if I have to.
You have been warned.

Things Not To Do On I-76.

2007-11-12T22:32:00.000-05:00

"Yes, Officer… I believe I gave you the finger."

Those words actually came out of my mouth on my way home from work tonight.

I am usually very good about shelving my road rage. I listen to good music and I tell myself "I will get to where I need to be in the time it takes me to get there."

Tonight was HELL on the Schuylkill. So, in order to make things a bit better I decided to just remain calm, toss on some tunes, and drive reasonably.

Some things to know about me: I like to fantasize that I can control weird stuff. Like the wind, for instance. When I was six I held up my hand when it was really windy and I said, "stop wind" and it did. It was cool. And every once in a while I can still get it to work.

Same goes for traffic, but it's a tad more realistic and tactical. I figure, what's the point in speeding up to the next car when I can just drive 25 mph and not have to stop all the time. So, that’s what I do and subsequently all the cars behind me seem to have a faster trip. I feel like I actually help the traffic find it's way towards a healthy flow.

Well, I'm doing my thing, very pleased with myself and things are going fine. I pass the car pulled over to the right with a flat tire, which appears to be the reason for the terrible gawker delay. I'm in the left lane and it starts to open up. I decide that instead of speeding up I'm just going to accelerate to 55 mph (which is the speed limit, mind you) and take it easy, because I KNOW that in about three miles another section of highway will merge with 76. Because four lanes becoming two sucks and my stretch is full of them before I can get off to West River drive.

This is when things get...interesting.

I'm driving along and all of a sudden this asshole is right on my tail. I flip down my rearview and I'm starting to get pissed because I KNOW in a few minutes we're all going to be jammed up again and what’s the point in getting to it at 80 mph?
I get the headlight flash and the engine rev and my patients is starting to bottom out. 10 mph more can't hurt me I say to myself and begrudgingly hit the gas. No result. This fucking guy is so close to me that, at times, his headlights are partially blocked by the back of my car. Headlights flash at me again and now I've had it.

Volume on my tunes goes up and I yell, "Alright, Mother Fucker, you wanna fuckin dance? Let's dance!"

I floor it.

Now, I'm clocking near on 85 mph and this son-of-a-bitch accelerates to meet me and dips into the parallel lane.

And it's time.

Its just TIME to give this douche bag the middle finger!

A full on-tensed forearm-middle fucking finger!

I give it with as much gusto and contempt as I can muster. The form and delivery is flawlessly executed and the only thing left to do to make it a complete gesture of fuck-you-ness is to look this jerk right in the goddamn eyes.

And when I do I am met with “the look” (the one only parents or wives can give as if to say, “Did you just do what I think you did?”), a point downward to indicate the Pennsylvania State Trooper logo blazing across the car, and lastly the siren and the lights.

I pull to the shoulder and hand him my license and registration and when I’m asked why I thought I was pulled over I can only say,

“Yes Officer…I believe I gave you the finger.”

“Yes…yes you did, young man.”

What happened next amazed even me. It was one of those times when words just start to come out of your mouth and all you can do is watch them leave while you stand beside yourself screaming, ~what the hell are you doing?~

“I’m sorry that I did that, Officer, but I gotta tell ya that you were on my ass pretty bad back there and I felt like I was forced into: a.) Speeding and b.) Flipping you off, by your actions. And quite frankly, I felt a bit scared that you were going to cause me to have an accident.”

Shocked and stunned the trooper says:

“Well…this is a warning…and don’t ever let this happen again. Understand?”

“Yes, Officer. Thank you.”

I got off with a warning because I was right, I was right, I was right!

Suck on it popo!

So, having spent a considerable amount of Karma points all in one shot this evening, I am in need of ways to earn some back fast.

Any suggestions?

R-six fourty-5 Troll

2007-11-07T10:13:00.000-05:00

You are a miserable little man, 6:45 conductor. You make no attempt at even being civil to your riders. Most people are not enthused at this hour nor are they stoked about having to ride SEPTA at all and the only thing you have to add to our morning is a pudgy sour face.

I have no patients for your actions and that fact has actually moved me to wake up and put pen to paper.

Taking a ticket is a chore for you. It reminds me of the manner in which children react to bussing their dishes after dinner. Set into the right hip, head tilted with great weight to the opposing side, and shoulders that scream of the injustice of such a request.

You check for our legitimacy of transit and when you approach the elderly gentleman who hands you a dollar, your eyes lift upwards toward the heavens as if to ask God almighty why this holiest of burdens is thrust upon you to undertake.

And when you ask to see the gentleman’s I.D., I wish with all my soul for the ability to instantly recall the breakfast from my stomach, so that I may have the pleasure of vomiting on your white shirt. You ask for the I.D. of a gentleman who has, in no uncertain terms, earned his senior citizens dollar ride and secretly you have been mentally punched in the face by every witnessing passenger. Which, by quick estimation, is around eighteen.

I am caught glaring at you in wonderment and instantly I know you for what you are.

A Troll.

But not just any Troll.

The Troll from Willow.

And guess what, Bitch?

I just happen to be Madmartigan.

The Val Kilmer in me dons armor & sword and relentlessly thrusts and slashes at your horrid features; endeavors to end the gloom exuding from your pores by smiting you. Head from body, limb by limb, or at least kick you off the castle bridge into the moat after being turned to stone by an enchanted acorn.

But we all know how that last situation turns out, so for my own good and piece of mind I’ll be taking the 7:15 from now on.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Madmartigan: What the hell happened up there?

Willow: You started spouting poetry. "I love you Sorsha! I worship you Sorsha!" You almost got us killed!

Madmartigan: "I love you Sorsha?" I don't love her, she kicked me in the face! I hate her... Don't I?

Because I was bored.

2007-10-19T21:54:00.003-04:00

I decided to play around with a new program. Rather silly, but it has lifted me out of my "mood" and I'm feeling much better.

Brad, this is what will happen at the party next Saturday!

I'm not to be toyed with!

I know some crazy-ass magic! ~Landis taught me.

Also, the sound FX are high quality. I got them from Skywalker Sound and they cost me a fortune.

Mortality

2007-10-10T23:32:00.000-04:00

I have been thinking a lot about mortality these days. My own and that of others around me. Especially the people I care most about. This closeness to death that I feel is the result of two losses within a few weeks of each other.

My Mother's cousin and, just this weekend, a very important person in my life losing her mother unexpectedly.

As much as I don't want to admit it, things often change at a pace that exceeds your ability to cope. Eventually you do, once perspective is gained, and the next time you are better equipped. However, I'm not certain that that perspective, that preparedness, leaves you any more able to handle the situation.

Today after the funeral I came home and sat on the couch. My Mother sent me a card and some articles from the Minneapolis Star Tribune and I have been staring at them for hours. I am still here, on the couch, listening to Peer Gynt Suite No. 1, Op. 46 : Ase's Death by Edvard Grieg on repeat. This has been my evening. I look at the card and then to my phone. I want desperately to call my mom, but I just can't seem to will myself to do it. As if calling her makes her more mortal and thereby able to be taken from me unexpectedly. And while I recognize the fact that this is illogical and silly on my part I'm not sure I have the strength to have that conversation with her tonight. And anyway, it's to late to call where she is and I like her to get her sleep. That is a half-truth I will allow myself this evening.

These things shake me. To look at me you would say that I am solid when things like this occur. I am not. I feel the loss deeply. It forces me to ask difficult question. Questions I have no way of answering. I try to stay solid and strong in appearance. Perhaps for myself, perhaps for others, or perhaps because I am a man. That last reason I don't buy much, but houses are wired in complex ways and so are we. Perhaps it's a result of work. What I do demands an openness, accessibility, and rawness. I do this in front of people for a living so much that I covet my privacy when it concerns these matters.

One night a few weeks ago I had the second scariest moment I've had onstage. I lived through a moment of truth. People in this business can understand that when this most rare of occurrences resides in you it can be a glorious thing. It can also be terrifying.

My character wants forgiveness. I kiss my partner, lead her stage right for a few steps, turn to stop her, and start my life. ( <---- is that a slip or what? Freud is smiling at me from somewhere. I have to leave it in because I subconsciously typed it when I really meant to type "line")

My line doesn't come out, however, because my mind says this to me: "Don't you realize that you are going to die. Once you are gone there is void. Don't create one in the time you have left."

I say this to myself with more honesty than anything I have ever said to myself. I say this, not my character. That moment and the questions it raises has yet to leave me.

I am going to sleep now. This post has rambled into something I hadn't originally planned on, but I don't really care. I think I just needed some weight off of my chest.

I love you all.

Mom, I'll call you in the afternoon.

Jamie

2007-09-30T12:15:00.001-04:00

It is difficult to believe that you are gone. To wrap my brain around the notion that you no longer exist. I have been thinking about it for days now. I find that you occupy my thoughts at odd intervals. I wonder where you are. What the essence of what was once you are doing. Who you talk to, dance with, purchase couture for. If you have already fallen in love, since time has no meaning where you are. Or has Joe found you after so many years of waiting, at ocean’s end in a white linen suit, your spirit feet lapped by waves and sunrise.

At times these musings give me solace. At times they do not.

In an odd twist of circumstance I dreamt you at my deathbed last night. You are wearing the black satin pajamas you made my mother promise you would leave this world in and you take my hand. We sit in silence for a while. Finally you smile and tell me that I could really use a manicure and a shave. I ask you why no funeral, why no fuss?
You tell me that you wish not to be buried. That it would be improper to use up graveyard space that someone else should desire, if you needn’t have to. I weep and laugh at this because I know you are right. It is the kind of statement a gentleman makes.

You were the last of the true gentlemen in my sphere.

You take out your pocket watch and nod in acknowledgement of your end. In recognition of the short and eternal walk home.

You turn and you are gone.

You are gone.

And I miss you.

Candles

2007-09-24T15:45:00.000-04:00

Today I was born-afide and I have decided to spend it watching movies while eating Oreo cake (courtesy of my wonderful castmates) and pizza. I may even cap the night with a bottle of champagne. I'm half way through "Brazil" at the moment and I think "My Life as a Dog" is up next. However, "Four Rooms", "Magnolia", and "Cannibal! The Musical" are also on the short list. They may have to duke it out in a movie battle royal and I'll watch whoever comes out on top.

Mom was supposed to be here today, but family issues in Minneapolis have called her away and she got on an early flight this morning. So, my mission is to have fun and do whatever it is I feel like doing! Within reason, of course. I figure being slovenly and gaining a few pounds in the process is not half bad idea, since tomorrow I have a 10 am show.

So, Cheers Folks! I'm thinking of you all today.

And, no, that's not me. lol

Theophilus North

2007-09-14T13:07:00.000-04:00

We open in seven hours! Hurray~!

The petroleum from the dress run three days ago is still in my hair. Boo~!

But its worth it for the kick-ass clothes and shoes I get to wear. Let me know when you want to see the show, folks, and I'll score you some tixs if I can.

Tech

2007-09-08T01:03:00.000-04:00

So, this is my life at the moment. This is the world I live in and I can never leave unless it's time to go home and sleep (which I certainly need more of). All you theatre folks know exactly what I'm talking about. I'll tell you how it all turns out. Anyone wanting to come and see a 2:30 photo dress on Sunday of Theophilus North, just let me know and I'll put your name on the list.
We're wearing 1920's costumes, we dance, and I speak French, so you know you want to!

Love & Ghosts

2007-07-07T00:51:00.000-04:00

When I’m home I visit haunts. I go to places of my youth to see how they’ve changed; I’ve changed. I sit in parks, on swings where I flew, I drive by old girlfriend’s houses, think about mistakes and triumphs. At times, this pilgrimage to the ruins of my childhood is pleasant and cathartic. I think that’s why I do it, really. It gives me a base. Perspective. There are moments, however, when this journey to dust leaves me reeling.

In the midst of my best friend getting married, I am crushed under the weight of over thought. I have never been happier for one of my friends and yet, at the same time, I’ve never been more envious and jealous. Two things that I rarely am. This is of course an extreme compliment to my two friends. Let me explain.

I look at this couple, P. and E., and I think to myself how much their decision to get married is the right one. How much sense it makes to me.

People often say, “They compliment each other so well.”

I disagree with this statement, in general. Complimentary, in my mind, means two halves that complete. The void of Yin that Yang fills and vice versa. It supposes, in a roundabout way, that, on their own, they are somehow less.

P. and E. are not complimentary to each other. They are fantastic, wonderful, and caring human beings in their own right, but together they are the best of each other, exemplified, magnified, even at their worst.

I can only imagine what that must feel like.

When P. talks about E. an amazing phenomenon happens in front of my eyes. I know it’s all psychological, but here’s what happens.

When P. talks about E. his words seem to form in front of him as if they were smoke. This smoke gathers, builds, changes shape and color until, finally, it drifts away. I can only speculate that this cloud of words, color, music, and love finds it’s way to E. and washes over her. Permeating her skin or is drawn in by her breath.

This phenomenon happens every single time, without fail, and it is the most beautiful trick my mind has ever played on me.

So, here I am bursting with joy and envy all at the same time. I equate this to scuba diving in quicksand. You can breath, but you sure as hell aren’t going anywhere soon.
I’m not sure what to do with myself in this present state other than to accept it and stay open to the experience it has to offer. That is what a certain friend would advise I am sure. There is a lesson in all of this and, more than likely, it’s the size of a Mac-Truck in front of my eyes.

But, for now I haunt the places that haunt me. I wait as openly and patiently as I can for answers to questions I haven’t the ability to formulate. And, most importantly, I revel in the glory and love shared between two people I admire and adore, in the hopes that smoke will someday gather at my lips and, in turn, by the other, fill my lungs.

APPLES!

2007-07-04T13:06:00.001-04:00

Movie Fun

2007-06-26T13:53:00.000-04:00

I read Alaydhiens post originally and since there was a break in my workday I decided to give it a try. Good times!

Something Special for the Ladies

2007-06-18T17:52:00.000-04:00

This one goes out to the Ladies Milcarek!

I hope you enjoy it.

(See what happens when you are left alone in the country for a week and you've had wa~y to much to drink? It's a good thing I wore some Hanes! I almost pulled a Paris Hilton.)

TGIF

2007-06-08T15:25:00.000-04:00

I'm looking at the clock and OMG it's 30 minutes until margaritas at work.

~Hurray!

I love my job.

2007-06-08T08:57:00.000-04:00

Life has been kickin my ass these days. I'm doing my regular education dept. stuff, working on a 5 County Grant workshop for libraries, choreographing fights for Humble Boy, gearing up for camp ETC, learning my lines for Theophilus North (that are in French), and compiling a list of ideas/topics for my students to create a show from, all while fending off what felt like the plague and a full body rash from an unknown allergy.

Hmm...

Karma
Karma
Karma
Karma
Karma
Chameleon.

Anyone...?

Bueller...?

Maybe it's cosmic pay pack time. I hardly find time to sleep anymore. Four and a half hours a night just isn't enough and I'm starting to feel it. I'm to blame, in part, I know. I mean it's hard for me to say "no" to anyone, so I wined up doing a ton of things and being stretched a little thin. Also, there is the occasional "I'm an idiot" moment where I make a bad decision.

Like the other night for example.

As a result of having "The Plague" I developed an intense rash on my forearms. After a few days of taking antihistamines with no result I made the grave mistake of surfing over to WebMD in an attempt to find out what was going on in my body.

Friends, please, do not ever go to WebMD to find out what’s wrong with you!

Typing "skin rash" into the search field told me I had everything from toxic epidermal necrolysis to scabies.

My brain says to me: "Calm down, Chief. You can't do anything about the necrolysis but you could spray for bugs in the event that that is the cause"

So, logically, at 11:30 in the evening, I head down to the basement where we keep the pesticide. I find the strongest one we have, that kills the greatest amount of creepy-crawlies, and I go to town on my room.

Baseboards, windows, carpets, ceiling tiles, furniture, corners of my room I didn't even know existed.

Satisfied that I have committed complete and utter insect genocide, I take a step back from my work and put the cap back on the aerosol can.

And then it hits me...

I now have nowhere to sleep. I have just poisoned every square inch of my room and am not allowed back in it for another six or so hours.

~sigh~

It's a good thing the couch is comfy.

So, I'm looking forward to the weekend and maybe getting together with a few of you out there, cause I miss you, folks.

It's the little things.

2007-05-17T12:47:00.000-04:00

So, I'm in Colorado at the moment. I have been checking email from the past few days (about 32) and doing some work while downing my third cup o' joe at starbucks and I just finished a wonderful conversation with Sophia. Sophia is "This many and a little bit", meaning, from the fingers she showed me, about four and a half. Let me give you the setup. I was just beginning to doze off while answering some work email when I hear, "Hello". I look to my left and this little Latino girl, in pigtails held with Dora the Explorer clips and matching regalia, climbs on to the booth next to me. Assuming that her mother is not far behind I remove my bag from the booth and say, "There you go. Now you have some more room." Well, as soon as my bag is on the floor she slides up right next to me, and I mean RIGHT next to me. She has the cutest eyes I have ever seen and there is some dried snot under her nose like most kids her age have. Standing on the booth she is almost as tall as I am sitting.

Hi.
Hello.
What are you doing?
Work, how bout you?
My Mom is getting drinks. Is that your computer?
Yup.
What's that?
It's my day planner. It tells me what I'm doing every day. See?
Oh. What are you doing today?
Some work. See?
Oh.
What are you doing today?
Mom is getting drinks and then we're going home and I get to play outside.
That's nice.
What're they doing?
Outside? That lady is reading a book. You see the puppy on her lap?
Oh. Your computer just turned off!
It's ok it just went to sleep. But I should plug it in soon cauz I'm almost out of batteries.

A Barista walks by and has samples for people to try. She asks me if I'd like to take one and I do. She looks at me, then to Sophia, then back to me.

Can she have one?

I look at the Barista, then to Sophia who gives me a big smile, and then back to the Barista. I reply:

Umm...I'm not sure. She's not mine.

This gets me a curious look from the Barista. I continue:

Her Mother is getting some drinks and should be back soon. I'm just providing some impromptu child care.

Satisfied with this answer the Barista moves on to other customers. At this point Sophia's Mother comes over to the booth and says:

I'm so sorry, I'll be right there.
It's ok, I don't mind.
Sophia, are you being good?

Sophia replies, "Yes." and her Mom goes to retrieve the drinks.

I ask:

How old are you, Sophia?
This many and a little bit.
Nice.
When I get home I get to play outside and then...

And then for the next few minutes Sophia told me all about what she was going to do for the rest of the day, some of which I couldn't understand because she spoke very fast with a tiny lisp. Her Mother came back to the booth with two mango frapaccinos.

Thank you. I hope she wasn't too much trouble.
None at all. Sophia, I enjoyed our conversation very much.
Ok. Bye.

She waves, takes her mango frap and heads out the door with her Mom.

I sit for a moment and think to myself, it's the little things that can make your day and sometimes they come in the form of pigtails held with Dora the Explorer clips and matching regalia.

Thanks, Sophia. You made my day worth getting up for.

2007-04-17T23:08:00.000-04:00

It’s hard to want to do anything in this world when chaos becomes currency.

I get tired of people who think an over abundance of generosity in a time of crisis is a receipt for being kind the rest of the year. We poor money into tsunami relief and line up to pile sandbags at the foot of the flood, but we find it a burden to extend a hand to someone who is drowning mentally. Hard to be civil when crammed in the subway or bumped in line at the bodega.

I wonder how I am supposed to get up and make art with a symphony tomorrow when mothers and fathers have lost their children. Lost their children to war, poverty, disease, and the audacity to take human life without a thought as to the pain it causes.

What do I say to my students when they tell me they don’t feel safe going to school, walking home, or opening their front door? When they are saturated with speculative information from the television news networks, radio stations, and the Internet. When they are treated like prisoners in order to keep them secure.

How do I assure them that there is beauty to be found in their lives even in the midst of all the ugliness they encounter? Beauty to be found if they aren’t hit by a drunk driver, caught in the crossfire, or left behind by our system of education. Beauty to be found if only they can live long enough to experience it.

 

Just call me...The Professor.

2007-03-07T21:10:00.000-05:00

But not really. However, Ladies and Gentlemen, I am now a full time teaching artist in residence at The Peoples Light & Theatre Company. I actually interviewed and secured a sweet job! This means I'm teaching upa storm and developing arts education programs for youth and...I can still act. Pinch me, I dreaming. Second thought, don't. Cause if I wake up from this I'll be really pissed! I start full time in May after being on the road most of April with Enchantment and then my life becomes something new and structured in an unexpected yet exciting way I never though possible.

Hurray!

This week I'm in residency with eighth graders working on the Underground Railroad with the wonderful Ms. Shavon. We have a great time working together and I'm looking forward to be working with her even more now that I'm a part of the team.

That's about all for now. If this week gets any better my brain might just explode!

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

AP: OMG! Could you sing the recipe in French during the breakdown?

MB: Yeah! I'll have to look some stuff up though.

~ a conversation concerning the lyrics to "Brownies of Doom" ~

In which I am a resident teaching artist.

2007-02-12T13:32:00.001-05:00

I would not mind if I had a full time teaching residency at PLTC. I would not mind having 30 thousand + dollars a year for coming up with ways to teach kids through theater. I would not mind having a car or a savings account, healthcare and a pension. I wouldn't mind any of it if I could still be on stage.

The Background: I am currently teaching my second class for PLTC after having done some shows there and team teaching a few workshops. I am in the habit of subbing whenever I am needed because I like the money and I actually enjoy helping out when I can. Also, I just completed an in school residency with my team teacher Shavon (or Miss. Shavon, as the kids call her) and am about to embark on another.

Last Monday I'm prepping for my acting class when my boss hands me an envelope. I opened it when I got home and found a piece of paper with information about PLTC's need for a full time resident teaching artist. Along with the info there was a post-it note stating that "If you are interested in the position, let me (my boss) know"

The Problem: It's not that I'm afraid of having a full time job. In fact, I think I would really like the stability it would bring to my schedule and, with out question, my finances. I'm not worried about being able to handle the workload or the challenges that come along with it. I only want to know that, were I to get an acting job, there would be enough flexibilty so that everyone can get the "best me" possible and that I have as full & rich of an experience as both will allow me to have.

My Pop is right. "In order to be a good teaching artist you have to be practicing your art."

The Solution: I had an informal chat with my boss to get some of these questions and concerns of mine answered. Long and the short of it is that they're willing to be as flexible as they can and they understand and support my thoughts about my career as an actor on stage.

So, with no good reason to stop me from applying, I'm currently drafting my cover letter and academic resume′.

Here's to being a grownsup. (^_~);
Wish me luck.

Post...or else!

2007-01-18T23:46:00.000-05:00

Well, since I haven't posted in a while and because the Muse demands it I am officially posting this post. Lots of stuff has been going on since I posted last but I'm not going to say much about it at the moment. Maybe later. Christmas was spent wonderfully in Philly with my dear friend Emily. I cooked, she did cookies, we both drank, and then we destroyed "Sweet Child o' Mine" on Guitar Hero. Now I'm back from a mini vacation to see my family and friends in Minneapolis. And starting on Monday I am a teaching machine over at PLTC. In the meantime, MB and I have been tiling her kitchen. Now, people might say that I'm strange but tiling is actually very fun! It's super rewarding to see a project from start to finish...and then be able to walk all over it. Anyway, I'm off to sleep soon because I have a meeting in the afternoon. However, I am making a pledge to start to blog a bit more. At least once a week. Here's some picts and a U2 video in honor of Miss Kate's upcoming B-Day.

GAaah

2006-09-14T14:38:00.000-04:00

My Finlandian Princess is correct, I am a lazy azz blogger. I'm in previews for my show at the moment and once we open I will post. I swear it! But I'm still alive and all that so don't worry.

if you want to come see me in the show, go to this site for the info: http://www.lanterntheater.org/index.html

-Harold

W. M. D.

2006-07-26T16:25:00.000-04:00

While you may think the subject of this post is W(eapons) of M(ass) D(estruction), it is more than decidedly not. It stands for something else completely different. If you are one of my campers or my staff you may be able to figure it out.

Now, I'm sure most of you at one time or another have had to work along side or under a person you really didn't respect and, while it may've been necessary to maintain at least a veiled civility with the other person to ensure projects and deadlines are met, it still leaves an incredibly violent taste of bile in your mouth. This is the position I find myself currently in and , quite possibly, the first time I have ever been in it. Let me tell you, when a summer camp becomes a higher factor for stress and drama than breaking up with a girlfriend, you know your in the fucking twilight zone. Rod, if you can hear me, give me at least a clue to where the hidden camera is, so I can show you my best side.

I have done my best the past few weeks to stay level headed and be diplomatic about what to do with information I receive. I have tried my best to back up a person who's administrative decisions stem at times from a personal base rather than a responsibility to maintaining and progressing the core values of an institution. I have seen my campers ill managed and treated inappropriately. I've had my staff and professional peers lied to and belittled as if they hadn't the intelligence to do the jobs they were hired for. And I've had to endure all of the above as well as being told, in not so many words, I'm a poor administrator and that I've been passive aggressive (which I have) to a point where I have hurt a grown man's feelings.

Well, shit, before you go demanding respect from me it's advisable to make certain you've brought a little to my fucking table.

When we have reached a point were I feel, as a twenty-seven year old man, more of a boss than my boss, more of a leader then a man twice my age, I'm pretty sure we're heading in the wrong direction. When a man, who makes three times what I do for six weeks of work, is petty and vindictive in the most childish of ways, I'm firm in believing that the wrong person is captain of our ship.

And when I have ceased to be able to do my job and conduct myself in the manner to which I am accustomed because I've been dragged into the kindergarten sandbox of another man's insecurities, I say...

...It's on!

If you want me, you got me! And I'm bringing my little yellow Tonka dump-truck to fuck your shit up.

I'll let you all know later how the Coup d'etat goes.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(>_>); Work at the Magic Box with Giles?

(^_^) Sure. Why not?

(>_<) Ugh! Are you kidding me, I'd rather be dead...again.

Drink

This one time at band camp...

2006-07-03T15:37:00.000-04:00

Some of you know that during the summer months I like to elevate my stress level by managing a little Shakespeare camp at Arcadia University. This year I decided to try to be a tad bit more calm about the whole situation but to this date I have come not even close to succeeding. I'd say that I'm as stressed as ever...and then some. (Ah, the blessed transitional year) Now, it may be true that I take this camp much to seriously but its my job. I take work very seriously. That's not to say that I don't have a great time too, I do, but I worry. It's only natural. I do have comfort in the fact that my teaching staff and teaching assistants are top notch. This job would blow without great staff.

Today is boring because I'm not teaching and office work has all but come to a grinding halt (As you can tell). There is a sick camper in our office waiting for his mother and as a result my afternoon RHCP listening indulgence has been put on hold indefinitely.

O Jebus, I wish it was tonight already! I'm heading over to my friend Kate's (see van crash post) cabin to hang out with her and Joey and watch some Buffy and drink wine. On the 4th we plan to BBQ a whole lotta meat and fish and lay around in the woods. If it rains we will probably be forced to watch movies or Firefly (I know, perish the thought)

(o_0); "You wanna run this ship?'
(-_-) "Yeah."
(>_<); "Well...you can't."

Ok, I have made an exucutive decission to leave work early and head out now. bye.

Feeling Down?

2006-03-07T15:22:00.000-05:00

If you or someone you know could use a bit of a pick-me-up, you should check this out. My Friend Marcie sent one to our friend Kate and I was totally blown away. Kudos, Marcie!

Type www.first name.last name.youaremighty.com

so, if I was sending it my friend james smith I would type:

www.james.smith.youaremighty.com

I can't tell you how good it feels to get one of these. Try it out and have fun!

2006-02-23T20:58:00.000-05:00

So, I know I haven't posted in a while and this is my attempt to rectify that. I spent the afternoon at the Starbucks to avoid the rain this afternoon and I started writing. It may be a bit of a downer for a post, but I don't really care. This is where I am at the moment.

~Mark of a Mistress~

I have a memory of her walking away
That shocks my breath
Into submission.
Gravel crushed by the
Balls of her feet when she turned.
Black hair softening my knees.

I have a memory of her
Applying lipstick in the mirror
While I put on creased clothes
From the evening before.
Late for work watching her green eyes
The impulse to scrape the ice
From her windshield
Which I never did.

A memory of her arms
Wrapping around my waist
The warmth of a cheek against my neck.
Letting eggs burn
Because appetites didn't bend
In that direction.

Air between my fingers
Running over her collarbone.
My hand finding comfort
On her hip
When she drew me in
Locking our ankles together.
The pressure of brown leather
Across my wrists
Holding me up like a puppet
And a line of blood
Trailing down my back.

Memories a jet stream.
A heart a broken plate
While dreams spill through a slotted spoon.
A cigarette to burn a lesson in the lungs
And a cup of coffee
To wash it all
Down the drain.

I fought the law and the law won.

2006-01-15T19:40:00.000-05:00

Just recently I moved in November from University City in Philadelphia to a house on the main line in Paoli. As most of you know, when you're young and you still don't have enough crap to fill a house, moving only requires patience, a couple good friends, and a large van. My friend, Kate, was moving too so in the interest of saving money and because it was available we borrowed the company van. After a lovely day of hauling crap into and out of vans and into and out of houses we decided to take a break and grab some pizza near my new place. While we were eating it was starting to snow very lightly and we thought it best to start out before it got any worse since we had one last thing to drop off at Kate's. We got to Kate's house in the country without much difficulty and dropped off her things and by this time the snow was just covering the road so we figured, "Hey, why not. It's better to get the company van back to work and if it’s to snowy to drive after that you'll (Kate) just stay with me." Driving is getting steadily worse and Kate rarely drives a huge van in the snow but still we decide its better for her to be driving the car since she's a full-time employee. Now, everything was fine until we got to the top of this small hill and start slowly going down. Kate is driving 5 mph maximum but it's too late and we start to fish tail heading straight for a tree in the woods. After crashing, calming each other down, smoking a cigarette, and taking a rather hilarious video on my cell phone, we call the PoPo the report the accident and get a tow. The cops get all the necessary info from us like: Name, address, license & registration, had we been drinking (luckily No), were we on the phone, etc…etc. The tow truck arrives and we head on our merry way. All in all, since no one was hurt, Kate and I came to the conclusion that it had been an exceptionally fun day and chalked the accident up to just another piece of life experience.

When I got off the plane yesterday, Kate was waiting to drive me home and she tells me:

Kate: So, remember that little accident we got into?
Ahren: The one where we totaled the van? Yeah, I do.
Kate: Well...I got a ticket.
Ahren: WHAT!?
Kate: Yeah. A moving violation for going to fast in poor driving conditions.

You gotta be kidding me! First of all, we were going 5 mph and there was nothing we could have done to prevent crashing except for maybe never having jumped back into the van to take it back. And second, it was 1:00 in the goddamn morning and we were the ONLY people not smart enough to stay inside. Now, I'll take a ticket for misjudgment, I can even stomach one for stupidity (if you want to go there), but reckless driving! Fuck that. See you in court. (>_<)<^>

I'm a Lvl. 54 Smn. ^^

2006-01-13T02:48:00.000-05:00

OK, so I know I'm a dork and I play FFXI a little too much. But escaping reality a few hours a day with some friends isn't a crime, is it? To tell true, I don't even know why I'm posting. I'm so tired, but restless as well. Ready to get home and start work, I suppose. Or maybe it's something else gnawing at me. I haven't decided yet. However, I don't think pondering it at 2:45 in the morning will give me any real clarity. So, on that note, I hope to join a few of you in the dreamscape soon.

I'll have a cup of regular and one psycho.

2006-01-10T23:50:00.000-05:00

On rare occasions I find myself meeting someone I really like. And on these rare occasions it usually happens that I am just a little to late in finding them or we live in different states or she's leaving for the Dominican Republic tomorrow at 5 am (I kid you not), etc...etc. Now, not to say that these brief encounters aren't worth every moment, but come on, what's a guy gotta do to get a break around here! So, here's the story:

I've been hanging out with my (not by blood, but certainly sweat and tears) sisters Emily and Anna while I've been in Minneapolis. We always have a great time together because we are family and when you've gone through just about everything you can think of together bonds strengthen fast. Anyway, Anna has this friend, <~~~>, who I have met many times in the past and we ran into her the other night at "The Dubliner". Turns out she is my age, smart, and super fantastic. Go figure, right? She went along with us to Emily's birthday bar run and we had a nice chat outside while smoking a cigarette. The night goes on, we end up at Em and Anna's house where we continue to drink "Run-Skips" (another post altogether) and play Apples to Apples and 90's Trivial Pursuit. At the end of the night it turns out that there is one bed left and two people that need a place to sleep. Myself and <~~~>. Now, I'm a reasonable man and a gentleman and I can sleep next to a beautiful woman in the same bed and leave it at that. I mean, it would be presumptuous and rude of me to make a move on someone I'm just starting to get to know better. I mean, right? In lieu of continuing with my story let us take a moment to explore a little math lesson, shall we?:

Me + Beautiful Woman x (who I've been told likes to cuddle + who's eyes I've been catching all night + who I've been told thinks I'm cute + is smart and funny) + cold night ÷ a Warm Bed = I'm an IDIOT!

Lesson over: Discuss.

So, I walk into the bedroom and crawl into bed and<~~~> asks who is sleeping next to her. I say, "it's Ahren", and leave it at that. Ok, so how was I supposed to know that was conversation opener? (see "IDIOT" above) I slide over to the outskirts of the bed so<~~~> has as much room as possible and go to sleep.

Skip to a couple days later. Anna,<~~~>,<~~>'s friend Becky, and I go out for a couple of drinks at a bar called "Psycho Suzi's". Anna, being my loving sister, does her best to make sure<~~~> and I are paired up all night. Anna makes sure there's an open seat in the booth next to<~~~> for me to sit and takes my car keys so I can drink and "have fun". After bouncing to the Dubliner to meet Matt, we have a drink and head back to Anna's to watch Chappelle show. It's getting late and Anna takes<~~~> up to go to bed and when she comes back down Anna says, "Good night", and gives me a devilish smile.

Ahren: "Where am I sleeping?"
Anna: "You're sleeping in Em's room."
Ahren: "Oh. Where is <~~> sleeping?"
Anna: "You're sleeping in Em's room. Good night." (smile)

I love you Anna!

And that's all a Gentleman will say.

Good night.

Good Bye 2005

2005-12-31T02:50:00.000-05:00

There are times in my life that I'm reminded what it's like to be human. This morning started off rather rocky. My dear friend Emily's Grandfather died this morning. I'm am very heart broken because I love her so very much and I would not wish anything like this to happen to anyone, especially during the holidays. Not being able to help her very much, since I am in Minneapolis visiting my family, I tried to remember this day what it means to care and be cared for. I popped the movie Amelie in to the DVD player and had an afternoon of trying square up to the fact that there are small pleasures everyday in this world, if you are open enough to recognize them. Tonight I went out with my friend Per and his girlfriend Emily (not the same Emily as above). It was a mutual friend's birthday so we went to a bar/bowling ally. It was kareoke night and we all drank ourselves silly and danced and sang. I had a blast.

Joey sent me an email today about new years and finding happiness. To sum up, it was about happiness happening to you rather than something that should be searched for. I discovered this tonight while in the company of friends and strangers and it brought a true smile to my face. My wish for everyone that I know this new year is to discover happiness by and by. It's the greatest feeling in the world.

Obviously I'm rambling because I'm a tad bit drunk, but I don't care. When your life is in transition things can cut you deeply but they can also renew and fulfill you. Tonight I am fulfilled in some small measure. I hope Joey, Kate, and MB are doing well tonight. Joey especially, because I miss her company. Kate, because of her ability to ground me (even if she doesn't realize it). And MB for being such a great friend to me by opening her doors to me in my time of need.

OK. Time for bed. Sleep well, all. And may tomorrow bring you some small measure of peace and happiness.

Real News

2005-10-20T15:00:00.000-04:00

There are only two real news programs on television these days. The BBC and, of course, The Daily Show. Always trust the British to give you a dry unslanted view of current events and always count on John Stewart to tell you the truth with a little bit of humor. When he interviews people on his show he asks REAL QUESTIONS. The things you see and hear on the Daily Show make you laugh but it also makes you raise an eyebrow and say, "Oh my Jihad! That's so true!". I mean, look at the direction CNN is taking. They have a "Faith and Values" correspondent for god's sake! How weird is that? Talk about news with a slant. Anyway, I'm just ranting now. But if you have any sense tonight and you have cable, do yourself a favor and watch the Daily Show for some real news.

Quote of the day: I'll tell you one thing they'll never be able to outsource... Balls. America has balls.

You eat breakfast in an ally?

2005-10-19T16:51:00.000-04:00

I slept in today because our show was cancelled. Slept in till 11:45 which my body never lets me do and I've been putting around ever since. Normally on a nice day like this I would head into the city and get a cup of coffee or fire up the black-box and play games for a while after tending to the many animals that inhabit my apartment. However, for various reasons, I haven't been staying in my apartment lately and I'm starting to feel like an imposition in my current living situation. I'm heading to Charles and Marcia's on Friday and looking after their house for the weekend, then maybe I'll stay there for most of the rest of the run. I'm tired of being in transit all of the time. Living out of a duffel bag gets old real fast and when people start to notice and say, "Don't you ever leave? You're here all the time.", you start to feel a little like parasite. I know they're joking and they don't mean it to be cruel, but it still makes me sad and uncomfortable. I was trying to think of things that made me feel at ease, at home, and all I could come up with would be how nice it would've been to have had breakfast at Al's this morning with Per. I tried to explain to someone once about what it's like to eat a meal at Al's and all they could say was, "You eat breakfast in an ally?". Some people will just never understand. You have to go there to truly know what it means to eat maybe the best goddamn breakfast you've ever had while someone stands behind you waiting to get your seat when you finish. That would have made me feel at home today. Would have made me feel like I was anywhere and not just stuck.

The Adventure Begins

2005-10-18T17:52:00.000-04:00

So, here we are. My very first post on my new blog. The adventure begins. Hmmm... There's nothing I would like to share at the moment since I'm at work with nothing to do. I was just reading my friend Emily's blog and I thought "OK, it's time to make one for myself." Maybe once I reorganize my thoughts I'll have more to post. Until then, everyone will just have to wait.
Peace

An Army of 15!

2005-10-18T16:53:00.000-04:00

Today we had a performance of Jason and the Golden Fleece for a group or 15 tiny tiny kids and their teachers. While this can be annoying at times (especially when you have to wake up at 7:30am for a 10am performance) I actually enjoyed myself. It was wonderful to look out and see them so enraptured by the story that was being told to them. It's a nice feeling to think that maybe you made a kid or two's day by slapping on some makeup and wearing a silly hat & skort (I'll explain later). It was a relief to get back on stage after an infuriating day off yesterday (Hence the crabby photo of me to the right). Aint escape-ism great! Tonight I'm making Dinner for two very dear friends and hopefully the day will continue to go well. Peace