Madwoman's Attic: In The Attic

The Best of the Holllywood Award Season. . .

. . . is the California Democratic Presidential Debate hosted by the Los Angeles Times. 

I have not suffered the loss of the Golden Globe Awards.  I will probably forget all about the Academy Awards when they come around.  I find them rather mindless onstage and rather self-indulgent when they flash towards the audience. 

This Debate from LA, however, is rather compelling.  Not only am I MOSTLY interested in what Clinton and Obama are saying on the stage, when they flash to the faces of celebrities in the audience, they actually look engaged in something other than themselves.  They're not looking around for the camera pointed towards them.  They're in real clothes.  They look good, mind you.  But they look like actual thinking human beings.  Amazing. 

I vote that they should get rid of the Golden Globes permanently and replace them with an annual Democratic Debate in Hollywood every year.  In the interest of balance, they can have a Republican debate from Orange County and show shots of Charleton Heston and Bruce Willis over and over again. 

Fun!

The other bloated thing. . .

It seems it MAY be coming head to head, Faire vs. Theatre.   Up until now, the shows I've been involved in have blessedly been worked around a faire schedule. (Or at least on top of a local faire so evening performances weren't much of a problem). 

But this summer, two events land squarely on top of the two Woodward Shakespeare Festival opening weekends.  Even if I'm not directly involved with the production, I will hopefully be administering an educational grant for Woodward regarding their two plays.  So having Faire events right on top of opening weekends could be a major conflict. 

Anything I'd do for WSF would be paid work for me and supplementing a resume that I hope to eventually get me into a grad program when the bend in the road comes for me. 

Ren Faire. . . as much as I love it. . . is a hobby.  A weekend of fun and blowing off of steam in a creative way.  I may be foolish enough to have dreams of working in non-profit theatre, but I'm not foolish enough to think that Ren Faire is going to give me any sort of satisfaction of livelihood. 

All of this may pan out differently this summer, and I'm really hoping to enlist a sort of "second" as GM of the guild so that I don't HAVE to be at every event with the guild. 

But at the same time, it always seems that once something piques my interest, something else gets in the way. 

Alas!  This is exactly why theatre actors are so hard to keep in faire.  They'd always rather being doing a play!

The Alka-Seltzer of Life

I have really been feeling how 'bloated' my life is of late.  In some ways, it's quite lean, but in others. . . there's a little too much hot air around it. 

As a result, I decided to completely wipe away my madwomansattic.net site.  It didn't make much sense to pay $25 per month for a static site when I can put the same information on this blog (with a minor redesign).  I also got rid of my costume blog at typepad because while I love the sewing, I'm not really needing a costume blog.  Even the St. Henry's site has gotten a strip down until I decide more specifically which images I want where. 

I think this all started with my going through our spending this month and deciding where we could trim a little.  Do I need the 4 disc Netflix subscription when 2 will do?  Why pay for both meetings and online WeightWatchers when I hardly go the meetings as it is (I do the online part of it religiously).  Is there stuff I'm buying at Target that I can get at the Dollar Tree (when quality doesn't really matter)?  How much of Showtime do we actually watch these days?  Or HBO for that matter?  Can we turn the heat completely off at night to save on the gas bill-- like we did everynight when I was a little girl?

There's a lot of questions going on there.  And really, we're the folks who need to trim the fat wherever possible since simple things like taking mom to PT 3xs a week or my going to rehearsal requires more petrol for our cars.  We live a good 25 miles from anything recreational or medical, so we spend more in gasoline than your average joe.  That combined with prescription co-pays, medical equipment not covered by medicare, etc. . . . things can get out of control fairly quickly. 

In a happier attempt to deal with the bloat, when I noticed that my nightgowns were getting very threadbare, I was thinking of buying new ones.  Then I reminded myself that I have several lengths of charming cottons in my fabric stash and wound up making three new nighties that didn't cost a dime (or they did about two years ago, but that doesn't count). 

Sign of the times

I don't know if y'all have these things around where you live, but they're common enough where I live:

Little stand alone signs on corners of vacant lots or in the flower plot on the corner of the gas n' sip (the kind that point arrows towards an open house in the neighborhood but instead. . . ) offering a service like "Diet Program 555-678-Diet" or "Make $30 p/hr in Testing Program" or "Matrimonio Civil 555-wed-2day".

They've slowly become considered an effective way to promote someone's scam or slightly nefarious service that probably isn't properly documented.  Meh. . . I think most of the time. I guess somewhere there's a migrant couple who need to marry in a civil ceremony in a parking lot somewhere.  Whatever. 

Today, though, I'm driving past one of our three major intersections in Dinuba, when I see one of those signs proclaiming:

"PATERNITY TEST
Fast and Easy!!
555-387-blah blah blah blah. "

ERRRRRR?  Paternity test?  Seriously?  This is now a service we advertise to the random masses driving past the Quik Shop? On the off chance that a goodly number of women are driving around saying to themselves, "Gee. . . I wonder which John really IS the father of my child?"

How many women are wandering about the Valley wondering HOW and WHERE on earth she can prove that one night stand is the father of her child so she can take him to Judge Judy and get some money out of him?  I mean, don't you usually already have a lawyer involved in such circumstances?  And don't such lawyers usually know where to go to get such tests.  Like. . . oh, I dunno. . . . a LAB? 

Paternity Test. 
Fast and Easy. 

God bless America. 

girlie gimp

Tomorrow night I am attending the Jane Austen evening and English Country Dance Assembly in Pasadena.  And so, of course, today I fall down the steps to my 'sunken' living room.  Land squarely on my left knee and knock the wind out of myself.

Great.  Murphy's law and all of that. 

Nothing is broken or fractured, though I may have ANOTHER tendon out of pocket.  (The tendon in my right ankle has been out of joint since a tennis injury ten years ago and snaps an awful lot when I walk.)  I RICEd it immediately, though, and it has a good stiff compression bandage on it now.  It's useable and I may get a few dances out of it at the top of the evening.  But it WILL need to be iced again tonight and tomorrow after the dance. 

I suppose I could make up some story about having twisted it running down a hillside in the rain and a beautiful man on a powerful steed came to my rescue and carried me home. 

But I also suppose that I'm a bit too old and a bit too heavy to make that a plausible story-- even for a Jane Austen evening. 

I shall just have to say that my carriage overturned on the abysmal country roads and I was lucky to have escaped with my life.  That sounds a bit more like a story some obnoxious Austen matron might make up about her gimp of a gait.   Or maybe I'll have been thrown from a new horse. 

hmmmm. .. . I'll have to cogitate. 

Catching Up

I feel like January is somehow "catchup" month.  And I don't mean the condiment. 

I feel constantly as though I'm playing catch-up on project and tasks that need to be done.   And yet, this feeling doesn't prevent me from whiling away the hours in my sewing room or going to town today to thrift store shopping for items for Andrew's Regency kit. 

Other than having to put together a rehearsal schedule, finish the handsewing on my Regency gown, and watching 3:10 to Yuma, there isn't a lot going on this weekend. 

Catboy will be gratified to know, though, that the red grosgrain ribbon used to wrap his gift to me this year has found its way expertly into my Regency dress.  I consider it a talisman against the evils of dull and insipid people often found at Assemblies-- in the 1800s or the 2000s. 

Twelfth Night Report

All in all, it was a very enjoyable evening and went swimmingly. 

Jason did a fine job for his first gig out as a Monarch.  He LOOKED fabulous, thanks to Michael Butler's (our longtime Henry VIII) outfitting him.  He prepared all of his own remarks having been given only the programme and a few suggested bullet points.  Having never seen Michael's first time out as Henry, but having seen Chris M's first TWO turns as Henry, I can definitely say that Jason has potential.   He needs to develop his power stance, stop fidgiting, and work on his vocal projection (which wasn't bad, but could be better).  But overall, he did his homework, kept his wits about him, and with some rehearsal and workshopping, he could do extremely well.

The evening as it is now is more casual than it has been in the past.  We've truncated a lot of the old Yuletide traditions-- some of which might be brought back next year--, but now that it is free and held in a more casual atmosphere, people seem to enjoy it more.   There's a lot more inter-group interaction, laughing, drinking, etc.  That's really what it's there for, as far as I'm concerned. 

At the top of the show, Jason welcomed everyone and I told the tale of the Boar's Head Legend, then we all sang to the boar's head, "Boris", as he was shown about the room by Andrew and James.  We elevated my friend Rebecca to the Countess of Southampton.  She didn't want a public elevation, as it required her to kneel before her husband, Jason, while had a sword in his hand.  But they both behaved themselves and Jason mades some very fine remarks about his wife's character. 

We taught a few newbies how to do some courtly dances-- our rousing renditions of the Montard Brasnle and the Schiarazula Marazula, both 16th century dances.  We gave away prizes and honored our court musician group the Queen's Ha'Penny for all of their work.  (They're a super sweet group of folks).  And then at the end of the night Candace sang the Greensleeves Waltz while LInda and David danced. 

A terrific time was reportedly had by all, even with the lack of old-school traditions. 

And yes, I wore my brown velvet Tudors, which is my usual gown for Henry VIII events (I'll be making a new burgundy one this year).  And yes, yes, I am wearing a tiara-- a perfectly NOT period tiara-- upon my head.  It's the one night in the year when I can wear one.  So, Huzzah the Tiara!

Mellow Mama

So, my mom took her first hits of medicinal marijuana tonight.  Unfortunately, the battery in my camera is dead, so no fun movies for y'all.  But then, she's really not as much fun on the mj as she is on the opiates.  She just doesn't finish her sentences (which she fails to do quite often, anyway, but now she stops earlier in the sentence so I have less of a chance of finishing the sentence correctly.)

There was one point, though, whereupon walking out of the house and then walking back in, I exclaimed, "Damn, this place smells like a DMB concert!" 

My mother's lack of response to that is probably due less to her not knowing what DMB is and more to do with her never having smelled marijuana before.   EVER. IN HER LIFE. 

So, I suppose some good came out of this situation.  If nothing else, my mother got high before she died. 

HUZZAH!

Happy Twelfth Night!

It is officially the end of the Yuletide season (or it will be tomorrow, but we're partying tonight!).  In the Renaissance Era, 12N was a big deal.  Christmas was a holy day and Epiphany (12N) was for gift giving and partying.  Some European Nations still do it that way, I believe. 

St. Henry's has a 12N party every year. The last two years it has been at Full Circle Brewing Co. in Fresno which has a very rustic vibe and some pretty good hand crafted ales.  This  year, there'll be about 100 people.  It's pot luck (Renaissance food), you bring small gifts to favor folks with, there's dancing, we sing to a stuffed boar's head. . . all in all its a good time. 

I'm sorry you're going to miss it!  But I'll share pics as I can get them. :D