Polticial Ha-Ha Shows

On the heels of my show the genre inventing RT+MPLS: The Legend of R.T. Rybak, I have been asked (Actualy, no one asked me to make this list in the sense you are thinking. I just wanted to make it, but in my political research for this show I have learned that in the political world you say "I have been asked to run for president or mayor or congressman or trash collector" is how you say "I want to run for president or mayor or congressman or trash collector.")To list what other shows my fall under my new genre: The Political Love Letter/Romantic Comedy.

For those Culture of Doing Things Readers that are all like, "What are you talking about?" I am talking about the show I just made, RT+MPLS: The Legend of R.T. Rybak, a romantic comedy about Minneapolis's outgoing mayor and the fact that he's totally in love with the city and Minneapolis loves him back and it's adorable and wacky and satirical in the way you don't expect. You know that show? We just did it in the Minnesota Fringe Festival? The mayor came? TWICE?

Ok. Are we all on the same page now? Good. So to cap it off all you non-Minneapolis readers. Mayor Rybak is basically the mayor from Portlandia. It's awesome. What? You haven't seen Portlandia? Netflix it. Then come back.

So here they are:

Teddy Roosevelt's Extreme Environmental Challenge A reality TV show were it's nature vs nurture as teams of urban, technology-dependent social media hounds have to camp in a state park for a whole weekend--without internet service. Host Teddy Roosevelt scares the campers at night by unleashing an actual bear into camp. Survivors are rewarded with an actual teddy bear and a ride back to civilization on Teddy Roosevelt's moose.




Old Rough and Ready's Delicate Cooking Hour This cooking show features 12th president Zachary Taylor as he teaches you how to cook with bland things to avoid dying from eating cherries and milk, just like he did.

Yes, young Nixon.

Sexy Nixon's Top Model Youthful Nixon hosts a modeling competition where each week a losing model is kicked off to Nixon saying "That is not a look!"





DIY Bathroom Remodel with William Howard Taft This is a webseries where 27th President William Howard Taft enlarges your bathroom to accommodate America's expanding waistline. A great series, but has a lot of pop-up adds for Taco Bell.

Bill Clinton's Beach Party Jazz Fest Exactly what it sounds like, a classy jazz music appreciation show.

Linda Tripp's Say Yes to the Dress No explanation needed, only shown on pay-per-view


 

This is what is happening

Hello Culture of Doing Things!

I know you all have been checking this blog daily since March for all of my brain eggs, but obviously, again, I have been doing other things than blogging. (Well, I have been blogging, you'll hear about that later.)

So, what is happening? My new show RT+MPLS: The Legend Of R.T. Rybak opens tonight at the New Century Theatre in Downtown Minneapolis. It is an amazing day: same-sex marriage became legal today, the MN Fringe is having it's 20th anniversary today, my fringe show opens! I am very fortunate to have been placed in a venue in the heart of the city with a show about the heart of the city on the day when the hearts of all the MN cities are full!

Full points for everyone.

So you can check out the show on the Minnesota Fringe site or follow the adventures of our Spokesmayor R(eally) T(iny) Rybak at www.rtplusmpls.com (see, that's where I have been blogging.)

Hope to see you in person or on the internet soon!

A Dialogue with my self

SELF: Good job self on pretty much not blogging for a whole month.

OTHER SELF: Hey now Self, don't be so sarcastic and mean. You just put up a wonderful Comedybration that people are still talking about. (www.comedybration.com)

SELF: It was only on Friday.

OTHER SELF: Cut that out right now. You worked hard on that. You wrangled folks in LA and MPLS, made props, marketing the thing, wrote the thing, edited it, directed and and learned your own lines in it.

SELF: Define "learned my own lines" I did some improvising.

OTHER SELF: But that is one of your skill sets, Self! Don't sell yourself short. You gave out prizes in your show. It was awesome.

SELF: People like prizes.

OTHER SELF: Also Self, did you even notice that you opened a show the week before your Comedybration? And that your first semester of grad school ended the same day the Comedybration opened? And joined a theatre company?

SELF: Well, the other show is...

OTHER SELF: The other show is Flanagan's Wake the an interactive Irish wake, you had to learn the lines, practice the improv and drive to St. Paul with your broken car every night for tech week, after already working the whole day and then having a comedybration rehearsal.

SELF: I supposee..

OTHER SELF: No, you don't 'suppose.' It's ok that you let posting on this blog slip when the other plates you were spinning had to keep spinning.

SELF: But I made an unofficial promise to post on this blog everyday for a whole year.

OTHER SELF: Plans can change! Accept that you can't plan life, you can try but things change. You wouldn't have traded any of these awesome things that happened this past 30 days?

SELF: Well, I wish my car wasn't broken.

OTHER SELF: All or nothing, Self. All or nothing.

SELF: In that case, no, I wouldn't have traded anything in the past 30 days in order to keep my blogging everyday record up.

OTHER SELF: See?

SELF: Yes, I see.

OTHER SELF: Why are you still being a gloomy gus, Self?

SELF: I don't know, that's just how Heather keeps writing me.

OTHER SELF: Oh. Well, wear this hat.

(OTHER SELF puts cowboy hat covered in blue feathers and tiny dump trucks on SELF's head.)

SELF: What is this?

OTHER SELF: I don't know. But I am sure we can make a metaphor about it.

SELF: At least this isn't a real play where a props person had to make this hat.

OTHER SELF: That's true Self. That's true.

SELF: Let's got eat Pad Thai.

OTHER SELF: Yes!

The End

Things are happening!

I know I have been lack in my blogging! That is what happens when I am blogging on my favorite holiday, FIBERUARY at www.fiberuary.com

But as Fiberuary winds down, my next favorite, not made up holdiay is gearing up, Women's History Month which this year I am celebrating with a show: Women's History Month: The Historical Comedybration (with fabulous prizes) check it out at www.comedybration.com

Celebrate!

Open Letter to The Fancy Grocery Store

Dear Grocery Store Employee Who Bagged My Purchases Today,

Hello sir, I'm sure you recognize me. I am the woman who purchases grocery store sushi from your establishment about once a week or so. You, of course, being a competent and valued part of the Lund's Grocery Store experience certainly strive to exemplify the class, expertise and helpfulness that Lund's prides itself on.

I always enjoy a trip to Lund's. I am aware that the extra money I pay on the inflated prices on all things is paying for the artfully merchandised produce section, the constant samples of free cheese and the absence of a self-check out lane. Your store has an olive bar, Himalayan rock salt and of course, my favorite place, the ready to go sushi.

I always enjoy standing over the selections of rolls and nigri that your sushi chefs make each day. I appreciate the care in which the chef drizzles spicy sauce in a clever zigzag and each roll dotted with the perfect amount of fish row or crushed wasabi peas.

Thank you for understanding that my addition to grocery store sushi saves me time and money every time I jones for raw fish, helping me to dash in to your store rather than belly up by myself to the closest sushi bar. You provide me a quick, easy, portable fix.

With all of this convenience and knowledge that you provide the public, why is it then upon check out you make a metaphorical "You can suck it!" to my patronage of your store? I understand that packing groceries is an art, but I wonder if there is a special masters certificate in the proper way to place a container of delicately prepared sushi into a paper bag? I would think that the sushi must lay flat in the bag, not on the side nor on it's end to prevent the nicely lined up rolls from falling into each other and creating a sushi slush party. That is just what I would assume would be the correct way. But the style you displayed today was that you filled the bag full of bananas first and then slide my delightful sushi container standing on it's end. Which of course meant that zigzags of eel sauce and spicy mayo became a graffiti of condiments as the rice and cucumbers joined a mosh pit of particles. It no longer looked like beautiful sushi, but instead, it was that scene in Trainspotting, you know the one don't make me describe it, but it involves a toilet.

Please correct me if this is the proper way to present sushi. I feel like I do have experience the matter, due to my uncontrollable addiction to all sushi, hence my constant need to a quick hit from the Lund's grocery store.

So stop putting the sushi in the bag on it's end. You wouldn't do that with a cake, would you? Sushi is the same principle. I am more than willing to come in and teach a class on the proper way to pack sushi in a grocery bag, you can pay me in grocery store sushi.

Sincerely,

Heather Meyer

Something in Memphis

It's Monday! I've missed two blog posts this weekend.

Because I am in Memphis and Memphis becomes a time warp. I forget the days, I have limited access to internet and I am bombarded with 30 sec snippets of all the broadway songs professional actors have to offer.

Plus I ate gater chili nachos and a fired baloney sandwich yesterday. Things are pretty something.

I will return to MN tomorrow. Then things will be something

Historical Donuts: sidebar

Remember my donut essays? Well this isn't an essay just a sidebar on the donut if my life.

Today I stood over free donuts and debating. Why? There was only one filled donut. That is the one I was going to get. But instead if selecting that pastry, I went through the trouble of opening the other box as if it held better surprises. In fact the other box contained fewer and no filled donuts. I wasted time doing that and risked other people taking the last filled donut.

But don't worry I pushed aside the dude eyeing my mystery filled donut( man, I wish that was a euphemism) and grabbed it. The lemon goodness was mine.

Lesson learned: don't waste donut time.

Airport smells!

The Memphis airport smells like barbeque. It is the best smelling airport in the world. All airports should smell like the cuisine of the area. Minneapolis would smell like.....Jucy Lucys........knephla soup.....that rotten lye fish dish all the Scandavians talk about at holiday time....maybe this isn't such a good idea.

Post title.

Blog post! Blog post. Blog post.
Read between the lines.
Blog post. Blog post. Blog post.
There is nothing between the lines.
Blog post. Blog post. Blog post.
Lazy lazy type
Blog post. Blog post. Blog post.

FRINGE 2013

I now know what I will be working on until August.

Last night the ping pong ball with my number on it was pulled from it's cage at the right time to give me a spot in the festival. I had never been so surprise. Sure, I've been in the fringe before, but I have never been in the room when the balls are drawn. For being a totaly random lottery, there is a lot of suspense and hoping and willing the balls to say your and your pals numbers. I was actually looking at my phone when I heard 2  9  6  it took a split second and I reacted "I think that's me!" And it was!

I am so excited. I've really wanted to do this project since it laid an egg in my brain a while ago and I knew the MN fringe was the perfect place for it.

My MN Fringe 2013 show RT + MPLS: The Legend of RT Rybak. It's about our Mayor, it's going to be amazing and so much fun!

I know this because I have already had a blast not working on it but just pretending it exists.

Adventures in Criminalogy: Part 1

It would be pretty dramatic if I could start this blog post with "The last 24 hours have been the something, something of my life."

That would be super impressive, right?

But I can't start it with that.

Because it is more like the last 30 hours have been the something, something of my life.

Why? You ask.

Well yesterday, I had a simple plan to not watch the Super Bowl and instead have a photo shoot for Women's History Month: The Historical Comedybration (with fabulous prizes) and the go see Theatre Pro Rata's current scary, video gamey play, Neighborhood 3: Requisition of Doom.

However, plans changed. As they do.

Especially when the pal that was the model for the photo shoot and your date to the play gets mugged at gunpoint on the way to my apartment!

Yeah, take a moment. Read that again. One more time. Alright, now you can keep reading.

So that happened. She arrived at my place and called the police. From the 911 operator, we quickly learned there was a string of similar muggings last night as well. The police were on these dickheads tail.

However, this blog post is not going to be about that. I am going to make it about my cat. (I'll write about my adventures as a amater CSI agent tomorrow [maybe]).

But first, a cop had to come over to my apartment to interview my friend. I met the officer at the door and led him to my apartment where my friend awaited.

For a moment full of tension and urgency, the first thing the police officer said as he was frozen in the doorway of my apartment was "Whoa, that is a big cat."

Which is right. I know my cat is large. But this is a Minneapolis Police Officer, he must have seen scary things than a 16 lb tabby cat.

Unless that tabby cat looks like a kick ass kingpin like mine does. Look at that photo, am I right or am I right?

But the thing is, the officer's first response was to comment on my cat, not address the mugging victim that was standing in my apartment. Granted, my apartment is currently strewen about with seven hula hoops, a rubber chicken and a scary clown painting, so sure comment on my giant feline maybe was the only thing he could do when faced with some sort of Uptown circus apartment that Minneapolis's latest mugging victim had found herself in.

But once again, my charming feline roommate has found a way to make someone else's mugging be about him. As the interview between police o and victim, my large cat wound his way between there feet mewing with approval or diapproval at the retelling of a crime by punk as kids.

What really got us was, when the officer confided that these little jerks were robbing people all over the city and every minute counted when they were just one step behind catching this little pricks. That even the fact that my pal had left THE LOCATION WHERE SHE WAS THREATENED WITH A GUN, and came three block over to my place added minutes to the search. Then why did the officer take the extra seconds to comment on my cat's size? That is wasting precious crime-fighting time. Batman never takes a moment to share his opinions on stranger's pets. You know why? BECAUSE CRIME DOESN'T LAY (down to sleep that is.)

So there we have it. I have a large enough cat that will cost police officers pause and therefore cost them time in solving crimes. It's CSI fat cat.

Yes!

Women's History Month: The Historical Comedybration (with fabulous prizes) now has website!

www.comedybration.com

Check it!

Don't Tell My Mom: Part 2

I called AAA today. They are the best investment of my life. However, they also thought my car just needed a jump so they came out with a 'light duty' truck, not a tow truck. So now I am waiting for the tow to come to pull my car to the doctor. Because, I sometimes am thoughtful, I called the car doctor in advance to let them know my car will be coming to them within the hour (or at least that is what AAA says will happen.)

The waiting is continuing......

Don't tell my mom: Part 1

I grew up in the frozen plains of North Dakota.

I know how to do winter.

It's in my DNA.

It has been hammered in to my bones.

My mother is a constant stream of helpful winter tips.

But I failed her.

I am so embarrassed. Last night, my gas light in my car came on. I forgot to fill my car. This morning, no car movement. Of course, winterwoodswoman that I am, I thought it needed a jump. Forutnatlye, as things are with jumpstarts, my neighbor offered a hand. I had the cables she had the car. But electricity was not what my car needed, as evidenced by the radio blasting 'Call Me Maybe" during the non-start. Then it hit my head like an some sort of simile that is both funny and thematicly appropriate: my fuel lines were frozen.

Now all you non-winterers will think this "Gas doesn't freeze, genius. At least not at -14 below." I tell you what, gas doesn't freeze but fuel lines do, that's why you are supposed to put Heet or other fuel anti-freezing fuel supplements in your car. I know this because every Christmas my mom puts two bottles in my stocking.

But I hadn't put the Heet in my car. And I was on E. My car is cold and it does not want to wake up. So after hitching a ride to far away work and back, I still don't have a running car. Because it is still cold! I wanted to check on my car during the warmest part of the day, you know, with the sun shining on it and all, but since the warmest part of the day today was 5 degrees, it probably wasn't going to work. I am holding out hope for tomorrow when the high is supposed to be 19.

I have failed my winter genome. Don't tell my mom.

The Night Before Fiberuary

"twas the night before Fiberuary and all through the house,
all the fibers were celebrating, including those in my blouse

The Irish oats were stocked in the cupboard with care,
with the hopes that full bowls and bowels would soon appear

The grains were are nestled snug in their jars,
near the cereals and FiberOne bars.

The beets were anticipating from the fridge,
and the cabbege was wilting, but just a tidge

When at midnight, there arose such a clatter,
from a neighbor who appear to be quite a bit fatter

"It's Groundhog Day!", they exclaimed supreme,
I saw that my iphone displayed February 1st,  2013

It's Fiberuary! I yelled as in correction,
and no one echoed my grand jubliation

But once they discovered the delights in store
I knew they would herald Fiberuary glore

For the month of soluble and insoluble bliss
was upon us once again to provide an intestinal tryst

For 28 days or 29 depending on the year,
active bowels are nothing to fear

On Bran! And Quinoa! Go Chicory and Greens!
Bring forth happy digestion to the elderly, middle aged and teens!

Happy Fiberuary to all and to all a good fiber delight!

July

Ireland is a go.

For two weeks this summer, I will be soaking up all Dublin and Galway has to offer. Plus it's a writing residency, so I'll get to soak up all that creative juice stuff that dribbles off the faculty and participates.

Tally-ho!

(Oh no! Wrong exit greeting!)

A thing I did a long time ago!

Remember 2011 or was it even 2010?

I don't, but I took part in a year-long art project where I filled a sketchbook up, then the Brooklyn Art Library had an exhbition. My book is crazy and nuts and non-linear and about me. Check it!

Some of my favorite pages are Canker Sore Cartography

And my accidental blank page

Yup, you can read and enjoy my scribblings.

The Great Motivator: Some Facts

The great motivator.

Ordering a bridesmaid dress accidentally a size too small.

Fortunately, I have six months before the wedding.

Also, right now is January. The month where we take stock of all the crap and nonsense I've eaten in December.

So I went back to the gym tonight. This wedding better not get cancelled.

Facebook Fast Failure

Well, that didn't work out as planned. Yesterday, after I made that post about how I wasn't going to look at FB even though I really wanted to, I did. Just once. And with a purpose. And I didn't even scroll down.

But that still does not make it better. Then, today I looked at it again. I even scrolled down. And sent a FB message to someone, clicked some shared links and 'liked' some things.

Then I left.

I am so ashamed.

This is like that time I tried to do the Master Cleanse and ended up at the Thai restaurant in two days.

Facebook Fast Day #2

I am having a hard time staying off Facebook today. I want, no, I need, NEED to want to know what is happening with peeps. Mainly, because I sent a text and since I didn't get a right away response I am going crazy.


But no matter. I distracted myself by venting about it here. You are welcome. Also then I won't forget to post later.

Facebook Fast Day #1 and Haircut Ladies!

Facebook Fast Day #1 Update:
I really wanted to look at Facebook today, but I didn't. Not looking at it was easier than I thought. I kept thinking I had all these important things to say on the FB, this coming from someone who status updates maybe 20 times a year (not including my blatant show promotion posts).

One could argue because I have the email notifications for the messages on FB that that is looking at FB. But I can read those in my email and not have to go to the site. I don't know how I survived not knowing about who ate what or which one of my friends needs attention about something.

Maybe I even gained some time today but not looking at FB. I think so.

Second thing about today:
I spent some time this evening in a room with women with well kept hair. And I mean at the salon every six weeks hair. Using deep conditioner and knowing how to use a round brush hair.

And you know who these women were?

Elementary school teachers. All with amazing hair. At the end of the day on a Friday. As they drank wine.

Damn.

Facebook Fast

I decided to go on a week long Facebook fast. I hit the Facebook app on my phone.

I read an article this week about how Facebook makes people unhappy. Tonight, I got annoyed by Facebook and decided I didn't need to let Facebook affect my mood, so I am going on a Facebook Fast, until next Friday. I am looking forward to focusing on other things on the internet when I want to waste time and a generally more self-centeredness since I won't be reading other people's garbage posts. I am still allowed Instagram and Twitter.

So I'll see how this goes.

Confession time: Games

I do not like the game Apples to Apples.

No matter how much you tell me it is awesome, I will not want to play it.

Catchphrase is my favorite game.

It should be yours too.

More things for you to come to1

Even more announcements!

So put February 13th on the calendar for your pre-valentine-ness. The I've been workshoping in grad school will be read at Theatre Pro Rata's playreading series, so be there or be square. See an adolescent play at work and help shape it for the future!

January 21st, 2013

I also forgot to post yesterday.

I was too busy celebrating meeting my MFA deadline and drinking wine to do it.

Then I fell asleep on my face.

So that's that.

January 20th, 2013

I forgot to blog this day. I also forgot it was my brother's birthday.

I did remember that January 20th is usually Inaugration Day.

The blog I planned to write on Sunday was about how I wasn't into complaining about the cold and how I'll look back and say "hey, that was fun those sub zero temperatures."

But it was too cold to type. Yesterday the high was -4, that cracks me up. I also decided to film a movie outdoors yesterday with actors from Texas.

I. am. a. genius.

Word

For real!

Super official anouncement!

My new show, Women's History Month: The Historical Comedybration (with fabulous prizes), will be performed on March 14th and 15th at the Bryant Lake Bowl Theater!

Now just to finish writing the thing and produce it!

Go team comedy!

Sleds

I want to go sledding. But there is maybe not enough snow. Or it is will be too cold.

I still want to go sledding. And Also ice skate.

In a rink and a pond.

It was just flowers.

Did you know Piet Mondrain painted other stuff than just geometry boxes?

Yeah, I didn't either. Until I stood in a gallery for 90 minutes and heard people exclaim that over and over.

Now I feel like I know a lot about art.

Hmm...

I may or may not be dressed up as Martha Washington right now.

and by that sentence I mean, I am.

We'll talk about it later. Let's just say keep March 14th and 15th open on your calendars.

Thoughts.

Obviously, loyal blog readers, You've noticed that I have continued to blog every day so far in January. I am going to try to keep it up. I've noticed (and so have you obviously, you-vbiously) that January's post have been a bit biographical diary like. Diarrhea-al if you wish.

I am not proud of this fact.

However, I am not denying this fact.

I think I've said this before on this blog, I look at this blog like sit-ups. Or push-ups. Or some type of simple daily fitness routine that doesn't make sense at the time, but some day when I am called upon to take part in a life or death sit-up contest, I will be ready. (This is only metaphor, I do not do sit-ups everyday.) These daily ramblings make me write something everyday. Let me be more clear, these blog post make me finish a writing everyday. It's muscle building. Someday it will be called upon.

In the meantime, I should also think about going back to the gym.

Today I realized Facebook is a waste of time.

But that doesn't mean I stopped looking at it.

I had a moment today where I was all "I wonder what Facebook is up to?" Then I clicked over there are admit the day after updates about Jodie Foster and random Instagrams of crap I discovered it. Facebook is a 100% waste of time. Now, that statistic could be modified, I know there is need in everyone's life to stalk someone through the magic of friends of friends (this is serious, I am not joking), and it's been the biggest boon for birthdays since whoever invented the idea that you get presents on them.

But for the sake of argument, Facebook is a waste of time. The miniscule moments I spend glancing at my 'feed' to learn that someone I don't really know 'likes' something I don't care about, and reading status updates that make my life feel inferior, these moments are not helping.

So today, in my groundbreaking moment, I clicked away as soon as I arrive to Wastebook. And then just sent an email. And did another thing. Both of these things were just as 'unproductive' as Facebook, but at least they were things on my to-do list. (Yes, there is an argument there about why I am putting things on my to-do list that are not productive. This is not the time for that.)

All day I stayed away from Wastebook. And I felt superior for it. I didn't feel like I was missing out. Or that I needed to know what was happening. You know why? BECAUSE NOTHING HAPPENS ON FACEBOOK (aside from hilarious facebook fights and someone changing their relationship status) Facebook is a static boring place. I am thankful that at least my Facebook feed is filled with creative types promoting their shows and stuff, BECAUSE THAT IS STUFF THAT HAPPENS. Shows and stuff are things to do. Updates are just unsolicited slice of people's lives. Reading status updates are a life proxy, actually doing something is actual life. It's cheating when you stay home and just absorb other people's awesomeness. And it's cheating yourself, because no matter how many status updates you post about your food, or the wine you are drinking or how sick you are, its never going to be as cool as actually seeing that show your friend made.

However, as my procrastination set in this evening I found myself bathing in the tedium of the Facebook. Repeatedly. So much so that I was reading the same status update as the first item each time I visited the page.

So that's that. 

My sappy thank you. You've been warned.

As I sit here YouTubing 2013 Golden Globe clips because my TV reception is only giving me pixelated squares of glitter and skin, I want to have an emotional thank you to the world. And just by reflecting on my weekend, here it goes.

Friday I watched a show I directed have it's first preview.
Then at noon I met with a costume designer to borrow a Martha Washington dress.
Later, I attended a professional ballroom dancing competition in which a friend performed.
Then at 9pm that night I met with a local theatre to write a play in one night.

Saturday I held the first (cross country) meeting for a new show I am writing/producing for March. Also, photo shoot at this time.
Then I met with pals to pick up and split our CSA vegetable share.
Then, I had dinner with a friend and attended the performance of the play I wrote the night before.

Sunday (today)
At 10am I met with No Rest Sunday to begin writing tonight's show.
Then I directed a different show in the afternoon.
Then I returned to watch and take part in No Rest Sunday
Now I am watching the Golden Globes as I work on my MFA homework and blog. And sometimes a cat sits on me.

But what is even more amazing, is that with all of these events and creations is that they are filled with people I enjoy, love and admire. Honestly, I am so thankful that I get to make the things I love with so many truly amazing people. Any one of these events is enough to make a great day. To have had all of them in one weekend has blown my gratitude meter off the charts.

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

2:30am

We finished up out 24 hour play this morning at 2:30am. Pretty good time, considering we had until 5am this morning to complete.

I also must say, the play we wrote is amazing.

Or at least, I really thought it was at 2:30am. Through out the night, I kept exclaiming "I love our little play." But also at 12:30 the motivation juices had drained out of me.

Tonight, we will see how awesome we indeed were.

Also last night, before writing all night long, I attended a ballroom dance competition. Talk about glamour. And also I want to wear rhinestones and dance.

The appeal of the last minute.

This weekend I am a writer part of two 'last minute' type of shows.

What is a 'last minute' type of show?

Just hold on now, I am getting there.

The show I am writing for that happens tomorrow is Theatre Unbound's 24:00:00 Extreme Theatre Smackdown. In this event, I show up tonight at 9:00 and am given a list of secret ingredients and the whole night to write a ten minute play. Oh yeah, and assigned a writer partner, usually someone I don't know, which adds to the fun of figuring each other out. Then in the morning, the play is given to a director and actors and then is perform at 8pm to much fanfare.

On Sunday, I am a writer on No Rest Sunday, which is a similar concept except with tighter deadline. At 10am we all meet and write comedy sketches and then at 2pm a director and actors take over and they are performed at 7pm that same day.

Get it? Good.

I know there are lot of other incarnations of this idea; the 48 hour film festival, the 12 hour film thing, 24hr play projects. Even one grad school interview had me write a play in four hours. Thinking on that now, I am really glad I made it that far in that process to get to do that. That was awesome and the piece that came out of it isn't too bad.

There is something magical about the last minute. Everyone is firing on all cylinders, the actors 'mostly' know their lines. The writers don't remember what they wrote in the frenzy. And then it is over, it's a lot like improv in that way, dismissing the need to have a long laborious process leading up to the final piece and just embracing the moment. I am not saying everything that comes out of these types of projects are gold, but that is part of the fun, seeing if something works or totally doesn't.

This will be my fifth and sixth 'last minute' theatre/sketch project. No Rest Sunday will run three times totally in January and probably again after that.

Go last minute.

More blasts from the past

Yesterday I phone talked with someone I went to high school with and today I had dinner with someone I hadn't seen since college.

And someone else invited me to my former work place's holiday party.

What will tomorrow bring? A blast from yesterday? Or the future.

Probably the future. You know those time travelers.

Huh

Had the longest conversation with someone I probably had a fleeting crush on in high school today. We talked for 3 minutes on the phone. He works at my bank. We became friends. Friends we could have been in high school. But the person I am now did not exist in high school.

Hilarious.

Secret announcment

So. I am writing and producing a show at the Bryant Lake Bowl on March 14th and 15th. This is exciting.

More details to come......

Glass half full

If I was a melancholy individual I would see a glass of water as pre-tears. Tears waiting to be. Or tears that have been already been done. Seeing myself as crying tears that have been cried before, by sadder individuals. The tears then are borrowed. Traded. Traffific by those who rate reasons for tears as more sad than others. More desperate. More hurt, therefore more worthy of the limited supply of tears.

But I am not a melancholy individual. That was pretend.

6 word memoir of the day

The six word memoir is a thing I was introduced to by a classmate in Paris this summer. She writes one every day.

I will write one for today.

My mittens aren't lost any more.

Improv comedy haiku

Improv show the night of the game
Chips and salsa. Ha-has.
Cheese heads, Vikings
Fajitas were the winners

1/3/13

First Friday night of 2013! Woo!

That's all I got.

Crowdsourced Muse

What musings would you all like to hear today?

.....

Anyone?

Seriously, I'm asking. I've noticed on Facebook that people do a lot of crowdsourcing. You know, the whole " I am thinking of getting a vaccum, which one is best?" or "Does anyone remember the name of the film in the late 1980's that starred Dolly Parton as a radio host?" (That movie is Straight Talk and don't you forget it.)

But then there is the lazy type of crowdsourcing like "Hmm..theology, what do you guys think about it, please include a bibliography." for those that are cleary justifiying thier time on Facebook as research for their midterm.

There's also "Wow, two workouts in 8 hours for the third day in a row, I just can't keep myself away! Who am I? How often do you guys work out?" This poster really does not want a list of how often their FB friends workout. (And if they did, that would be super creepy.) The motives behind this poster are about showing off and knowing that they are working out more than other people. 

I've tried the Facebook "ask the world post" twice. The first time, no one responded, leading me to comment on my own post "Don't all speak at once." (That's not really want I wrote, I wrote something along the lines of "well that worked" but the subtext is the same.)

The second time, I did some recommendation gathering on plays to read with specific elements. It was fun to get responses from folks I don't normally interact with (Then why are we Facebook friends?) but I felt like I was cheating by not doing the research gathering myself.

I guess my feeling is sometimes with these posts is, as they get more frequent it seems like if you ask the internet you are supposed to just get it. Whatever it is: a good restaurant, a job, a date, a title for a book. Like as long as you ask the responsiblity to do it yourself has been lifted and now the responsibility is on the seven Sarahs and fifteen Jeffs you know on Facebook.

So I am going to to try crowdsourcing right now! What do you, reader of Culture of Doing Things, want to hear more about on the blog?

6:30 Club

I heading out at an earlier time than normal.

It's dark out and also cold. I was excited to wear all of my layers of warm clothes until I remembered my job's new building is super warm.

So it's just me with what I call the 6:30Club.

The 6:30 club is the selection of folks in my neighborhood who leave at 6:30am to go to work. In my previous job, I left work work every day at 6:30 am. Usually, it's pretty routine and alone, though you can see a few others walking their dogs or heading out to work as well, this is not the 6:30 Club. The 6:30 Club only meets in the winter months. You can see when the meeting convenes by the sound of multiple people starting their cars, then getting out and scraping the ice of off their windshields. We don't talk to each other, we don't know each other but we all know that the ice must come off the windows. If you observe closely, you can see each individual rationalize at what point is 'enough' ice removed from the car, knowing that the defroster will eventually be able to melt the ice.

I am not quite early enough to see the 6:30 Club, but I will be joining the 7:05 Club. Usually, I get to be a part of the 8:44 Club, which is a great club because the sun is up so even if I have to scrape my windows, it's not in the dark and the odds of the sun helping melt the ice have increased. So the 8:44 Club isn't even a club, we don't need each other. Not in the way that the 6:30 Club needs each other because knowing that you are not alone in the dark, negative single digits of the morning helps you get up to exist in the dark negative single digits of the morning.

January 1, 2013

January 1, 2013.

I wrote a check today, which is only remarkable because of the rarity in which checks are written. (Did you notice that sentence had the word 'which' in it twice? Is that ok?).

I write rent checks so that's 12 checks a year. It seems that this time of year, we always start saying things like "better start practicing [new year number] or "just a few more days to write [current year.]"

There's something to that. Is like an addtional small talk item that we only can use in a very small window of the year. We get to talk about the weather all the time but we can only talk about the year the first and last days of the year and maybe if you stretch if a day or two before and after.

But why should this wonderful conversation starter be limited so? Why can't I use it all the time? I think I will, modified of course like in April I can say 'Fifteenth time I've written 2013 on a check' (obviously that is assuming I have secured 15 items or services that I paid with checks for, if not I will substitute the correct number for 15. I am just using 15 as an example here. I clarify this because earlier in this post I stated that I write 12 checks a year at least for rent and by April I would have written 3 rent checks, because I wrote my January one in 2012.)

So that's a whole thing.

Happy 2013!