Friday, February 12, 2010
I've spent a lot of time "hiding" behind outfits that would be far more appropriate for a teenaged boy, or at least Bruce Vilanch.
Oversized t-shirts that hide my belly (not) and a variety of colors of jeans. Complete the outfit with the socks + birkenstocks and there you have my regular attire. (OK, sometimes, if I'm feeling really dressy, I'll wear knee-high leggs with those birkies. Oh, and did I mention that since the dog chewed the bows of my glasses, I have covered the hurty parts with hello kitty bandaids? I decided a year ago to try to look a bit more my age. I bought a bunch of blouses, but since they had to go around my shameful middle, I bought sizes so big that the ends of the sleeves completely covered my hands and would flap in the breeze as I walked. When I lost all the weight (last time) I gave the blouses to a tall friend who didn't look like flipper-hands girl in them, and wore my husband's t shirts. Now I'm in-between -- don't want to be flipper-hands girl, and I don't want to wear my ralphie-from-the-simpsons-eating-paste shirt everywhere, either. I have lots of cute blouses for when I'm 30-40 lbs. lighter, but until then, oh -- hey -- can I borrow your shirt, Bruce??
Sunday, February 07, 2010
The Leaden-Eyed, by Vachel Lindsay
Let not young souls be smothered out before
They do quaint deeds and fully flaunt their pride.
It is the world's one crime that its babes grow dull,
Its poor are ox-like, limp and leaden-eyed.
Not that they starve; but starve so dreamlessly,
Not that they sow, but that they seldom reap,
Not that they serve, but have no gods to serve,
Not that they die, but that they die like sheep.
It's standardized test-taking season in the Clark County School District. Our students will be seated in rows for hours at a time, bubbling in answers. Entire school days are devoted to nothing but testing. Did you know that there's not one study that has shown a correlation between high school exit exams and future success, in college or in the world? Not one. Yet we spend huge amounts of money on these tests. Who benefits?
Sunday, February 07, 2010
I refuse to write anything mean about those very adorable, very earnest high school thespians. Except that if there weren't so many dramatic pauses, I'd have been home 1/2 hour earlier. Your son is . . . . . . . . . . . . deeeead. Not - - - - - -my. son.
Ok, they're like 17 years old and they were better than I expected, even for the academy of performing arts. They're doing West Side Story in March, and it probably will be terrific. Plus my friend's kid will be one of the dancers.
It's late, and I didn't exercise yesterday or today but I could still get in my 40 minutes before bedtime. Hate to skip 2 days in a row. So off to the Wii I go.
Saturday, February 06, 2010
Saw a good version of "All My Sons" at the Nevada Conservatory last night. Thought the acting was mostly terrific. The set design was so good. It was an Ohio back yard in the post WWII era. They had what looked like grass on the ground and leaves and debris scattered around from a storm the night before. There were even real rain gutters on the house, and screens on the windows.
The costumes were spot on, especially the shoes the men wore. I wonder why they went to such care with the men's shoes, though, and had the women all in character shoes. They probably could have gotten some period women's shoes from a thrift store.
But on to the acting -- one of the pivotal characters was kinda stiff and mannered. I've seen him in other shows, and he's really good. Maybe he saw his character as being fussy and removed from everyone else, but it came off more Oscar Wilde than Arthur Miller. He dropped the mannerisms for the emotional scenes near the end. Another actor was clearly too young for his role, and his hair was artificially grayed. Maybe it bothered me only because I was sitting so close to the stage.
The gun that was supposed to go off at the end of the play was really quiet. Maybe the prop people saw how many old people were in the audience and chose not to startle anyone into some sort of medical emergency. But after all that realism, it was as if the old man had killed himself with a firecracker.
Stay tuned -- tonight I'm going to see Antigone at the local high school.
They had someonce called a dramaturg listed in the program. I'd never heard of a dramaturg, but I think I want to be one when I grow up or retire, whichever comes first.
Saturday, January 30, 2010
I've been setting some goals, so I thought I'd keep myself honest by putting them here. My goal for this weekend is to organize all of my clothing. Closet, drawers, laundry basket, coat closet. By Sunday evening. Obstacle to overcome: thinking that organizing one thing is futile, that I must organize my whole house, which is a bigger job than can be done in just one weekend . . .
so I give up and organize nothing.
Goal for February: Be out of the 170's and into the 160's. At least 5 lbs. in 4 weeks. I can do it. Obstacle to overcome: I'm worried because the spark site increases my calories when I increase my exercise.
Goal for today: Have my pic taken and post it, and then post another pic every time I lose 10 pounds. Obstacle to overcome: I'm not thrilled of having a record of how I look right now.
Overall, my problems seem to be related to unrealistic goals that are a byproduct of my particular brand of OCD, which is perfectionism, which is ironic, because I'm always telling the children in my library that they are fine just the way they are, but I can't tell myself the same thing. Well. I can, but I don't.
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