...And nearly a year later...

I will spare you any reasons that it's been eleven months since I've mentioned anything via blog. I disappeared from a lot of things and didn't give anyone else explanations, so posting one here hardly seems fair.

All that nonsense aside: I'm applying for graduate schools again this year. Because one year of rejections simply wasn't enough. I want more. MORE I TELL YOU. I HAVE REJECTION HUNGER! (I really wish I could post a photo of me eating one of my rejection letters from last year, but alas, they're in storage). I've been in the process of gathering thoughts for my statement of purpose (which is coming along nicely, but messily). Last years SoP was, well, boring, for lack of a better term. I've been carrying around a notebook with me for the past few months and jotting down thoughts about my work as a theater human while I'm in a plane, having dinner, knitting, at concerts, getting too drunk at bars and turning the conversation too serious with my friends and winding up in tears because alcohol and feelings are AWESOME. So suffice it to say, some of them are ridiculous. Let the sharing begin. And if some of these stand out to you as particularly awesome or particularly dreadful, please feel free to share, just keep it classy, people, okay? And if you really want to ridicule me for your personal opinions on my personal business just send me a personal e-mail like every other self-respecting human does when they want to tactfully ridicule people on personal stuff. Right. So here:

Story-telling is important to me.

Learning bravery and brevity

causing a story

necessary narrative

equal parts detective and explorer

I am the proud owner of many mistakes

Technicalities as second nature

Breaking off the technical and gnawing at it until it's mine again

creationism means something different to me.

consuming story

consummating story

world takeover of story

if theater is a lab- labs are designed for experiments conducted under a set of guidelines.

my brain is the mad scientist and my body's the Bunsen Burner.

Eating a story

I have a theory that space is time's hot sister

The work I do is physical and meditated and meditative and spontaneous and wise and cracking wise and mundanely legendary.

The work I do is rich in texture, iconography, stereotype, language of movement and culture.


I crave more modes and methods of communication

I am well versed in how to speak properly onstage and how to love deeply, quickly and easily in life. I utilize a lexicon as effectively as I do my empathy. My work ethic is paralleled only by my desire for adventure and play. I have a voice that is strong, full and hungry for a venue, feedback and hoards of co-conspirators.

Creating an environment in which we allow story to happen


So yeah. That's what I've been up to... Gets pretty hippy-dippy sounding pretty quickly, doesn't it? And yes, I am working on patenting "Mundanely legendary" because that pretty much describes most things in my life- and for a girl whose blog title is "over-underwhelmed" can you really be surprised at that?


See you in about a year, I guess.

My Mother Confused Me: Part 1

I remember the a time when my parents were happy. I remember the "hmms" of approval over their morning coffee. I remember Doonesbury seeming oddly optimistic, even in while playfully ribbing the Nation's current state and the latest presidential address. Ladies and gentlemen: I remember the Clinton administration.

And yes, I remember the scandal. Oh sweet delicious, sizzling, scandal. What good American doesn't love a delightfully, tasty, full-of-gory-details scandal, right?

Now, I was young when the shit really hit the fan for President Clinton. Not quite a teenager, but there was no pulling punches in my household when it came to talking about sex. I don't actually remember a time when I didn't know what sex was or where babies came from because whether or not my sister and I wanted to know, my mom was a little too happy to tell us all about... well... most everything.

Seriously. In the nineties? You don't get much cooler than tenor sax and Ray Bans.

The Clinton scandal was particularly memorable for me because of my parents reactions. They loved Bill. There wasn't much not to love, as Monica Lewinsky demonstrated for the Nation. Sweet saxophone playing, foreign relations-whiz, charismatic speaker, solid hand gesture-er, general super-cool-guy-president that he was. My mother often scoffed and rolled her eyes at the news reports on the matter (a rarity, because I also remember when my mother loved watching CNN with Peter Jennings, may he rest in peace). One day not too long after the scandal broke my mother looked me dead in the eyes and said, "Honey, listen to me and remember this," she said with a tone of hearty importance with her hands on my shoulders, "It is nobodies business who anyone sleeps with. I don't care if it's your neighbor or the President of the United States of America. It's nobodies business except for the two people sleeping together. But this:" She gestured to the newspaper on the breakfast table, "Is none of our business."

I took a great deal of comfort in that fact, and I have no idea why. It wouldn't even become applicable to me for well over another seven years, and even then I pretty much wanted everyone to know I was gettin' some. I think the general principle behind the sentiment was something I related to on a core level though. Man, woman, transgender, cheater, faithful, chronic masturbater, it simply has no effect on the work that person does in a professional setting, and honestly has very little to do with what they do in a social setting. It's private. People's sex lives are nobodies business*.


But you all probably know that that's not true.

"Young lady, people be gettin' busy and it's no one's business."

Now as it turns out there were a bunch of crazy undertones to this well-developed manta of my mother's (her second favorite I heard often as a child was, "No one knows what happens behind closed doors." Are we seeing a theme here...?). Had I had my wits about me I probably would have started putting things together as she stuck by these phrases nearly religiously. But come on, I was eleven, get off my back. The bottom line, ladies and gentlemen, is this:

It is every one's business with whom everyone is sleeping.

Yeah. I made that shit poetical. You're welcome.

Here's the thing: Should it be no one's business? Yeah, I think so. Maybe? Probably. I have no idea honestly. But the stupid truth is everyone wants to know. And while I personally am not one to nose around these situations, I'm certainly not going to stop someone from telling me all about whose sleeping with whom (I'm also not quick to believe it or give any of the shits about it...). I'm about 9 months into being single for the first time in my adult life and realizing that I'm actually an extremely private person. Don't misunderstand me here, because I'm a far cry from shy, just very private about my own god dammed life because it's mine and it's full of my awesome choices and I choose to be a little particular regarding what I share with whom. This extends to everything I do, my family issues, my financial issues, my plans for the future, my personal quarrels with people. I'm rarely the first to jump up for show n' tell.

All the photos regarding whispering in the search I did featured women. I find that slightly insulting and largely inaccurate. Okay, somewhat inaccurate.

Regardless of what things should be and what's "right" in any given situation I've found it to never be that simple. Or easy. Or fun. It's just a giant mess, because that's kind of what being a human being is. A giant (wonderful) mess. We're all just slightly different and play by a slightly different rule book and we all have different boundaries about which we're constantly educating each other.

So, should it be any one's business with whom you're sleeping? I doubt it, but I'm sure we'd all like to know.

*Unless of course someone is getting hurt or anything is happening against any one's will. Obviously. Or you're a sex addict. I guess that's a thing.