Wednesday, March 25, 2009
I'm not pulling a fade-away. Promise.
Twitter's just so shiny and new. Come visit!
Off to Maine and Boston Thursday. Back Sunday.
Working 40 hrs at NBC, 10 hrs corporate blogging, 10 hrs at Red Bull Theater, plus writing three plays.
This is just one of those lulls in our relationship. We'll get back on track. Promise.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
I'm going to see it at the end of the month.
In other news, I saw four rats at the Columbus Circle station.
MAY 39th takes a voyeuristic ride through the morning after a first date: Sam gives Louisa everything she wants, and a few things she hadn't bargained for. In MAY 40th, Jim takes creative steps to heal Roya's blindness. 1,000 years from now, dating in the city will still blow chunks. And playing doctor will be way more creepy.
11:11 Productions announces auditions for the 2009 Capital Fringe production of MAY 39th/40th by Callie Kimball, directed by Christy Denny. MAY 39th ("the play with the orange") was a sold-out hit at the 2006 Capital Fringe Festival. The play has been rebuilt for Fringe'09, where it will be produced alongside Kimball's follow-up play, MAY 40th.
Both Equity and non-Equity Actors encouraged to attend.
Saturday, April 18 from 9:30 am – 12:30 pm. Callbacks are the evening of Sunday, April 19 by appointment.
Clark Street Playhouse. 601 S. Clark Street Crystal City, VA 22202
Actors will be reading from the script. Walk-ins are welcome, but priority given to those with an appointment. To make an appointment, please email headshot, resume, and preferred audition times to: ElevenElevenDC@yahoo.com. You will receive confirmation of your time, as well as audition sides.
Begin mid-June at Clark Street Playhouse.
Exact dates TBA; will run 5-6 performances between July 9-26 at a Fringe venue to be announced.
Actors will receive a portion of box office profits.
Sam/Jim: 20s-30s male, any ethnicity.
Louisa/Roya: 20s-30s female, any ethnicity.
(Actors will be double cast as Sam/Jim and Louisa/Roya.)
Here is a webpage for the play that will be updated regularly.
Monday, March 16, 2009
Next time I tweet will be to say I've finished my play. In my absence, please compose no less than two haiku about fire and haberdashery.
Much to my surprise, several people took me seriously. Below are there poems.
Fire, fire, hats on fire
But no pants aflame today?
Bah, suck it liars.
One word haiku lines?
Look, just use my old standby:
stuck feather in cap
called macaroni to some
red plumage flaming
spark started in snaps
ignited ribbons, zippers
buttons melt at last
And a late addition to the mix, slightly stretching the format:
undant twigs into
Friday, March 13, 2009
For those of you resistant to my attempts at indoctrination, you can always just read my Twitter page. You don't have to create an account or anything.
It's called a microblog.
And it lives here.
Monday, March 9, 2009
I usually write plays in which people beat each other up, often literally.
This is a play with romance and art and royalty.
I am freaked out.
Screw comfort zones.
Saturday, March 7, 2009
Friday, March 6, 2009
THE TWITTER FOLLOW DILEMMA
Uh. Follow whoever you want. Or don't. Or follow them and then stop following them after a while. Just don't be neurotic, okay? And play nice.
THE TWITTER FOLLOW DILEMMA
No. Seriously. It's that simple.
Okay, so you're on Twitter. And maybe you were cool enough to join before all the recent publicity about it.
The first person you "followed" was the friend who bugged you for weeks to join and who kept insisting it wasn't lame. The second person you followed was Shaquille O'Neal.
Then you sat back and waited for something to happen. Maybe you figured out how to change the color of your profile background. Then you waited some more.
Maybe you found some celebrities to follow, but you quickly unfollowed them because a) they have to be "nice" and everyone knows nice equals boring, b) they're never going to talk to you, and c) half of them have their assistants doing the tweeting.
Then you found the fake celebrities: Fake Rahm Emmanuel, Fake Michael Bay, Fake Nick Nolte. Much better.
You were excited to find Malcolm Gladwell, but you immediately unfollowed him when you realize he and his hairdo never tweet.
You couldn't wait to tell all your friends that David Lynch does a daily vlog of the weather. Then you got upset when your friends didn't believe you. Now that they've joined, they're following David Lynch, and you've been twelve kinds of validated as an "early adopter."
Now you're in the thick of it.
You've found the news. You've met the Fail Whale. You're following Rachel Maddow, Senator McCaskill, Neil Gaiman, Nicholas Krystof, Pete Cashmore, Evan Williams, and Biz Stone. You know what TED is. Sort of. You're following museums, theaters, publishers, green non-profits, Mediabistro and TheMime. You're mainlining Reuters, and you think it's stingy that Stephen Colbert has a profile but never tweets. You've learned to block all those hot chicks who love to party and are giving away free laptops.
You have the epigrammatic patter of the tweet down to a science, and you're continually asking yourself, in an affectionate, self-dramatizing way, "Is this tweetable?"
You understand that Twitter is a more powerful search tool than Google. You get it that Twitter is invaluable during a real emergency. You know people can get jobs through Twitter. You're disappointed that both Brian Williams and Jon Stewart are so foolish as to diss something they clearly don't understand. Twitter has become your first source for news, and you think it should become the first source for news for all major news outlets, seeing as they're hours behind Twitter in reporting breaking news anyway.
With newspapers folding and traditional media tanking, attention must be paid to the power of the tweet.
But back to you. Prescient, smarty-pants you.
You've gained followers, you've lost followers, all the while not knowing why.
Karl Rove has DM'd you. Twice.
Now you're leaving your real friends in the twittery dust. Maybe you even unfollowed some of them because they couldn't be bothered to upload a picture, or maybe they never tweet. It's like they showed up at a party in sweats and are slouching in the corner, picking at a muffin. Why should you have to look at their mopey face?
It's called "unfollow." And it's okay.
You're not obligated to follow your followers, just as the people you follow aren't obligated to follow you back.
The party metaphor has legs here...
Twitter is a party. A party of roughly 7 million people. The point is not to try to meet (follow) everyone, nor is it to have everyone meet (follow) you. The point is to have conversations that have currency, in every sense of the word. To wit:
1) At a party, you don't talk to the same people all night; same with Twitter.
2) At a party, you listen for a bit, contribute conversationally, and move on; same with Twitter.
3) At a party, if you never speak up, people will leave you by the fruit salad; it's called "unfollow" with Twitter.
4) At a party, if you babble endlessly, people will put you IN the fruit salad; it's called "block" with Twitter. (Or just unfollow if you're too nice to block.)
The key to being a good party guest is to listen attentively, and also to contribute something interesting. It's fine to offer up brief, witty, self-oriented epiphanies, but you're better off with sharing newsy bits, or book recommendations, or solutions to a problem someone's having.
But you can stop worrying whether someone you follow is following you, or whether someone who once followed you has now unfollowed you. And stop feeling guilty that you don't follow all your followers. Or go ahead and follow them all, because really, who cares? (If you're OCD, don't follow everyone because you'll never get anything done. Or use it to self-medicate if that's what gets you through your day.) Shape Twitter to your own purposes like the wonderfully malleable tool that it is. Give yourself and others permission NOT to equate following with personal self-worth. No one needs that kind of pressure.
After all, it's just a party.
Thursday, March 5, 2009
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
Because I cannot swallow 12 pills a day for 7 days, or 14 days, or 21 days or whatever.
I will not be leaving my apartment this weekend.
And I already have the DTs from Starfux withdrawal.
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
So I saw That Pretty Pretty, or The Rape Play and feel like I finally saw a production led by a director who could match the theatricality of one of her scripts. Seemed like an even pairing.
I found myself appreciating the play in different ways as it progressed:
1: enjoy stereotypes
2: click in to narrative structure
3: wonder where the hell that came from
4: admire pretty pretty monologue
5: find the rage the rage it is there
6: love the way the boys are just the way boys are
7: be sad, laugh at rape, hope
Anyway, I'd much rather enjoy a fellow playwright's work than not know what to say about it.
Monday, March 2, 2009
They replaced the regular-size elevator guards with giant bald bouncers.
And there are screamy girls everywhere.
Sunday, March 1, 2009
AND ANYONE KNOW HOW I CAN GET IN TO SEE OTHELLO AT TNA? They're sold out and I'm happy to stand in the back. Gonna go in person and see if'n I can wheedle my way in.
I also wanna see IN THE HEIGHTS, AUGUST OSAGE COUNTY, AVENUE Q, and RUINED in the next month-ish, if anyone is interested in joining me.