There is writer's block, and there is blogger's block. I have recently been afflicted with the latter, which is basically writer's block compounded by the fear of saying something that will somehow get you into trouble in the real world. It's something of a conundrum.
One of my worries has been, 'I know I signed up, but should I really do the play again this year?' My friends and family listened to me whine that I didn't have enough time to make a Broadway worthy set for the play last year, even though I am not on Broadway. After much internal dithering, I finally decided to go ahead and do the play again. I admit, I think I have an addiction. Admitting is the first step to recovery. I have an addiction to making scenery (and costumes, too, but we won't go into that addiction in today's post). I'm not fully ready for recovery yet, though, because I'm not ready to give up my addiction. Yes, friends and family, I am GOING TO GO THROUGH WITH IT AGAIN. I heard your advice, and I'm consciously ignoring it.
...and now, of course, I'm beginning to worry about it, as evidenced by the fact that I woke up at 3:30 am this morning, trying to figure out what set pieces I should start first, even though the director (one I have not worked with in this capacity before) told me, "it's not time to do anything yet..."
excerpts from a texted conversation earlier this evening... (WARNING: Gratuitous use of a the word "asshole" ahead... Read at your own discretion.)
Friend: I am an ASShole. Not just an ass. Asshole.
Friend: I would love to tell you... but I'm too much of an ASSHOLE to explain it.
Me: Oh come on, I have a half hour to kill. I'm an asshole too.
Friend: I am just in a real asshole mood today. We can be be assholes together... Want to go see the hs
play tomorrow afternoon?
(interesting, since I'm thinking about a school play myself...)
Me: - what time?
Friend: 2. but assholes need to get there at 1:30.
Me: I bet I am the bigger asshole. I am looking at scenes of The Little Mermaid on the
internet right now. There are 8 distinct scenes in this play.
...other topics of conversation ensue at this point. Nothing that screams asshole. Clearly, we both are just enjoying our gratuitous use of that word today. Suddenly, my friend realizes what I've said just a few texts earlier...
Friend: You better not be doing that play! I will use all my asshole martial arts tactics on you.
Me: I am doing the play. I am going to carve spray foam like a ninja...
Friend: You are not.
Me: Yes, I'm going to carve shells out of spray foam insulation with an electric carving knife.
Like a ninja. (hummm - can you imagine a ninja wielding an electric carving knife?)
Friend: I'm going to schedule a week's worth of meetings in the green room.
(... a theme from last year, apparently on the agenda this year. I'm hoping to work around it more efficiently, but it is another of my worries...)
Friend: most sought after room in all the land.
Me: ... and I will stand sentinel outside the doors with my electric carving knife.
Can I post the play-part of this converstion on the blog? I'm short on material.
Friend: Just don't say ASSHOLES...
Me: See, really this is a conflict between what I should be doing with my time, and what I
want to do with my time. No italics on texting... see, I should be doing chores, cleaning,
organizing, perhaps getting more than 6 hours of sleep a night.
Friend: That's no fun.
Me: Instead I WANT to carve spray foam with an electric carving knife and make a shell as
big as the one in Botticelli's Venus painting. Wouldn't that be cool? I could use it as a
bathtub when I'm done if only I can get it to hold water...
Friend: Can picture the shell, but not the sea foam. That shit will hold water...
You talking about Great Stuff on a can?
(What is Great Stuff in a can? She used to work at Home Depot - maybe she knows about this spray foam stuff...)
Me: Oh, have I missed a detail? What about 1000 cans of Barbasol Shaving Cream sprayed
around the stage? and mixed with judicious pieces of flotsam and JETSAM.
Did you know that the eel henchman, Flotsam and Jetsam will be illuminated?
I have a sickness, don't I?
Friend: Flotsam goes upstream and jetsam goes downstream. Yes, you do.
Me: So, do flotsam and jetsam work together to make Scylla and Charybdis? or whatever
that whirlpool from the Odyssy is called.
Friend: Yes, they do. Scylla is allergic to flotsam though, so it gets complicated.
Me: I am eating chocolate chips again. Does Ariel eat chocolate chips? Illuminated jellyfish.
Just throwing that out there... giant ones... just 2. Or maybe not. I think that might be a
Ariel's grotto - decorated with lots of seaweed hanging from the pole that does not move
up and down in the flyspace. BWAAAaaaahhahahahaha!!! I think I need a nice glass
Friend: You do.