Alright, alright, I know. It's been ages. I believe the last entry dates about two days before the beginning of the semester, which is about right. So, to the two of you still reading this, welcome back. Your patience is greatly appreciated.
This semester is approaching the point of killing me. In fact, I'm so used to doing 15 things at once that while I'm writing this, I was attempting to watch "Angels in America." Which is ridiculous, because "Angels in America" deserves our full attention, so I paused it. This is a step in a positive direction.
I'm taking two classes right now - Advanced Topics in Production Dramaturgy and Contemporary Trends in Theatre. I'm also the dramaturg for the Arizona Rep production of Medea. I just finished the actor packet. It is a huge weight lifted from me.
Regardless of the fact that I generally like my class, my job and my show, the three in concert with each other have that sort of sickening bacon-ice cream correlation: delicious separately, but when taken together they quickly induce nausea. I'm also constantly switching roles, which is getting tiring. I feel a bit like that dancing frog from Warner Brothers - in certain situations I am merely croaking and ribbit-ing along, but am called upon to tap dance for the amusement of others at frequent intervals.
Tonight I took the opportunity afforded to me by finishing my paper early to go buy dog food. Because that's my life right about now. If I am not doing school work or work work, I am tying up the lose ends that slipped away from me, like ensuring a constant supply of sustenance for the living things that rely on me. When I got home, there was the inviting smell of a wood-burning stove, which is strange because this is Arizona and no one has a wood-burning stove, least of all me.
"Hey, honnnnn...Are you cooking or something?"
Adam then emerged from the office where he was writing a paper (he's in more classes than me, poor thing). "Um. No. The cutting board got a little...singed."
I walked into the kitchen and the entire cutting board was black. Adam explained: "I read that in order to get the smell of onions out of your cutting board you should lightly cook some olive oil into the surface. But I didn't cook it lightly enough. Also I forgot about it."
I think this is pretty indicative of our life right now. Oh, we have pets? Oh, I have greased wood on the burner? Whoops! So you can see why, when compared to fuzzy animals and open flames, this blog has ranked a bit low down the list.
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