UC Employees sit on a throne of moronic questions

So. Earlier today I'm in the UC buying birthday cards for my family (stock up now, 3 of them are on 2/20), and as always the store is crowded, noisy, and in a general state of chaos. I'm about to pick up something of the "Shoebox" variety for Mom, when I'm accosted by a pesky customer service whore. Make that man-whore. He sidles up beside me and asks if he can help me find anything (all the while unabashedly trying to look down my shirt), to which I reply that I've got everything under control. I turn around thinking it's over, but no, oh no. That's when this stunning conversation took place:

Customer Service Man-Whore: So, you go to school here?
Me: Erm, yeah. (subtext: no kidding dumbshit)
He: What's your major?
Me: Theatre.
He: What, like plays and stuff?
Me: (and how did you get into college?) Yes.
He: So are you and actress?
Me: I'm on the performance track, yes.
He: (shamelessly patronizing) Wow! So you want to like be in Hollywood and do movies, and wear cool clothes. Make out with hot guys and get payed for it.
Me: No.
He: (uncomprehending) What?
Me: I'd like to be on the stage.
He: Oh, yeah. So you want to do plays?
Me: I'm in a play right now.
He: Wow! Is it on Broadway or something?
Me: (Oh. My. God.) No.
He: What is it about? Is it a love story? I bet it's a love story.
Me: No. It is most definitely NOT a romance.
He: What is it, then?
Me: You should watch it and see.
He: I can see it? Here? Any actors I know?
Me: What do you mean?
He: Like Cameron Diaz or Brad Pitt.
Me: (for the love of all that is good and holy, someone either shoot this man, or give me a gun so that I can do it) No.
He: Why not?
Me: It's just students from the school.
He: Oh, yeah. Heh! Duh, man.
Me: (my sentiments exactly) Well, I've got my cards, I'd better get going.
He: Let me walk you to check out.
Me: (do you have to?) Alright.
He: Man, I always wanted to be an actor when I was little. Watch this (goes into an obscenely terrible De Niro inpression doing a scene from "Taxi Driver." The fact that he knows "Taxi Driver" astound me.). What do you think? Whatsamatta you! Are you talkin' to me?!

And this is when I start laughing. As in hysterically. As in I'm laughing at you, not with you. I bite my lip to keep from doubling over. I hand him my money, and as he hand me my change, he SLAMS it on the counter and goes back into pathetic ganster Italian.

He: I'm so ANGRY!
Me: ????
He: Was that good acting?
Me: Sure. Well, that's going to do it for me today. See you later.
He: (fidgeting with his name tag) Hey, could I get your number? Maybe I could come to one of your plays with you.
Me: (diversionary tactic #3) Erm, yeah, um, I'm a lesbian.
He: (blank stare) Oh, sorry. That's why you didn't seem that into me.
Me: (actually that was a lie. I'm not a lesbian, I've just got a larger mental acquity than a bar of soap) Yeah, sorry. Thanks, though.

Moral of the story: Next time someone asks your major, tell them "english."

A weekend ruled by my uterus

Oh, my ovaries. I am *this* close to just reaching down and ripping out my uterus.

Load-in for The Whole Shebang was decidely non-heinous (esp. considering the load-in for Six Char. consisted of a 15 foot wall shattering after it fell from 50 feet up in the fly grid iron).

Downside: dancers from the rep show coming down and ordering us about like we were their personal prison lackies, thinking we were completely alien to the stage and incompetent to the needs of a performer. "Get me water. Get me Powder. Get me kleenex." You know what, bitch? We're actors - you're thirsty, you swallow your spit until intermission.

Spirits in the Material World

More Six Characters in Search of an Author pictures here. These look a lot better than mine from backstage (and they don't have "proof" written all over them). Our stage makeup still looks obscenely ridiculous from that close, but whatev. Slightly peculiar: there's one picture that never happened. I'm standing with the little girl and I'm pointing across thes stage. What? I've got no idea when in the show that occured. Oh, wait. It must have been on the night when 3 elves drank my blood and crawled into my skin to play my role. Yeah, that was it.

The reluctant voyeur

The R and the ulcer inducing annoyance otherwise known as her boyfriend are currently canoodling on my bed while I become increasingly nauseated. Is it possible to be envious and completely repulsed at the same time? Go slobber on eachother somewhere else, fuckwits. And bring back an intelligent, attractive man to put in your place.

For the love of Christ, I can hear some kind of sucking............

.....and the missing half of this golden amulet......

In order to avoid another debacle of epic proportions, I have devised this. There was quite a bit more, but in the interest of not making myself sound like a bitch, this is what I've come up with:

1. He must not be an actor.

2. Must not be a technician (basically theatre majors are a no-go). This rule extends to all fine-arts; no musicians, writers, actors, techies, artists, etc. Any and all creative types.

3. No smoking, please.

4. Must understand* the following joke:
Q: "How many surrealists does it take to screw in a lightbulb?"
A: "Fish"
*Note that "understand" does not necessarily mean "laugh at." Your IQ must be this high to go on this ride.

5. Yes, I know that I'll probably never meet David Hyde Pierce, and yes I know he's gay. But just in case some of those variables change (and pigs fly through the air), be prepared to step aside. I've got some business to take care of.

6. Cannot like children. Can like setting them on fire.

7. No accent. I'm a Yankee going to school in the south, and while I've grown accustomed to various degrees of this regional dialect, from slight drawl to hickish twang, this does not mean I have to like it.

8. I'm not very social; I don't go out much, and you probably won't be able to persuade me otherwise. But. When I can be pried from the house, don't object to me looking like this.

9. I'm an actor, not a drama queen. Keep it funny.

10. Must be able to put up with seeing for in very limited intervals. I've got 18 hours a week, and rehearsal from 6-11 every night, then there's studying. It's not that I don't want to see you; I'm just busy. Think of it as me giving you space. So don't even think of complaining that I'm being to clingy.

11. PDA must be strictly limited and regulated.

12. I've got cramps like no other. Get ready to hear about them. Those who are squeamish need not apply.

13. While you are not an artist, be able to appreciate that I am. I don't care if you have no idea what "blocking", "strike", and a "flat" are, but nod and smile like you do. That's all I want. Be able to live with my bohemian/astistic sensibilites.

The Return of the Tribute to Semantic Abscence

Haven't posted one of these since before the holidays (not because the amount of stupid entries has decreased, I've just been lazy; those old entries can be found here and here), and as NDC has seen fit to post a weekly entry similiar to this, I'd better get to it, so I can show up his ass and prove who has better witty commentary. This will probably be a clean victory for NDC, but I've got a better rack, and a vagina he can't have.

**************************
Speal writes:

I wull live you over. WOOPW OOP WAZZAP YALL HOW COME SMART PEOPLE FIND ALL MANNER OF MISPELLINGS AND PRONOUNCIATIONS AMONGST EACHOTHER BUT DON'T TOLERATE IT IN OTHERZZZZZZZZZ

Well, that wasn't really funny but whatevstaaaaaaahhhhhhhh. And I personally don
t enjoy when people mispronounce things by accident, but for some reason any purposeful wordplay whatsoever is automatically hilarious. The way to a nerd's heart is through his or her sense of Wakky Worrdplay. Um, Wacky Wordplay is good enough.

What's up Canada? Hey yo, let's go, tough guy! The M, the U, the C, the H, the V, the I, the B, the E.Hoooooold up!The M, the U, the C, the H, the V, the I, the B, the E.a-Say WHAT?!?!?!blahblahblahblackpeoplebeingcool

DUDES I AM COMING TO SASKATOON ON MARCH 22 FOR THE "TASTE OF CHAOS" TOUR SO'S I CAN SEE THE FRIEND AND MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE AND TAKING BACK SUNDAY! IN SASKATOON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!COME VISIT ME EN MY FRIENDXORZ!

I'm really exuberant, I guess. Haven;t written much here, so I guess I'm just happy to be back, to know my nerdbrain didn't go anywhere. Or maybe it did, and I just think I'm being the smart version of cool-uncool. God, stop. NO more self analysis. I've had enough for a while now. Cheeeeeese and crackers.

Belle & Sebastian are my total heroes. But I'm kind of in major love overload with Conor Oh...oh...OBERST right now, as Digital Ash In A Digital Urn freaking rooooooooocksssssssssssssksksksksksksks.


**************************
Where to start?

Alright, we're not even going to touch on the fact that you misspelled the word "word," and then just retyped it instead of backspacing. Yet he spelled exuberant correctly.

It's Saskatchewan. Douche.

I don't know what to make of the random cheerleader like comments about letters. Maybe some kind of secret code? And by secret code I mean retard language.

And the author of this mindless dribble is complaining about people who mispronounce words? Mr. Pot, meet Mr. Kettle.

"Six Characters" pictures

Yes, they're long overdue, but here are some pictures Six Characters in Search of an Author.

Unfortunately, these are from the photographer's site, and they've got "proof" written all over them. There's a really good one of The Father and I, and The Mother and I (last two of the third row). The only bad thing is that the stage makeup is really visible from that close up.

This is the most normal post I've written in ages. I should probably do something to spice it up. But I'm intellectually drained, and I've got rehearsal in an hour. Don't spend more than 3 hours a day thinking about existential absurdism in French feminist literature.

Audition Post-Mortem

Been auditioning since last Tuesday. Results:

Not a single prostitute or incestuous daughter in the bunch. I know, I was shocked, too. People used to always be surprised when I was cast as the whore or sex pot. Now they're surprised that I'm not.

Playing the French existential feminist Simone de Beauvoir in Lynne Kauffman's Shooting Simone, and am God's cynical hard-ass college professor in the creation comedy The Whole Shebang by Richard Orloff.

Should make for an interesting semester.

James Lipton built the bandwagon

What is your favorite word?
wit

What is your least favorite word?
the "n" word. I can't even write it. I hate it. I've had to say it, and for some reason those instances never bothered me, but whatev.

What turns you on creatively, spiritually or emotionally?
intelligence

What turns you off?
close-mindedness

What is your favorite curse word?
"fuck." It's very versatile, and can be used as all seven word forms. but I only use that when I really need to; it loses it's flavor otherwise. I also like "rat bastard"; the double hard "a" makes it more auditorily pleasing

What sound or noise do you love?
laughter

What sound or noise do you hate?
my brother crying

What profession other than your own would you like to attempt?
paleontologist

What profession would you not like to attempt?
politics

If Heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the Pearly Gates?
so, i'm still confused..............are you Jewish?

So I'll probably be taking up prostitution

The New Finacial Aid Application

Name (if any): _______________________________
Middle Last First
Address: _____________________________________
Last 34 addresses: ___________________________

Sex: __ Male __ Female __ Not Sure

Are you an illegal alien? __ Ja __ Si __ Oui __ Da

Annual income: $________
(If over $3,000, where did you get the nerve to beg us for a loan?)

Astrological sign: ____________ (Stop here if you're a Leo or Taurus)

Grandmother's maiden name: ________ Her World War II service record?: ______

Last book you read:
__ The Joy of Saxaphone __ Mad __ Manhattan telephone directory

Your favorite number from 17 to 39: __ (this will be the interest on your loan,
if you're lucky enough to get one from us)
A
Are you now on the FBI's "Ten Most Wanted" list? __ Yes __ No

In 7,000 words or more, discuss the International Monetary Fund and its
ramifications related to the Chicago White Sox infield and Victorian matters:
(use back side, if needed)

If you miss a payment on your loan, what is your preferred method of torture?
__ The Rack __ Iron Maiden __ A night with Lawrence Welk

Do you like to fill our forms? (We have more when you complete this one)
__ Yes __ Goodbye

Do you secretly like your father's Oldsmobile? __ Yes __ Maybe a little

Do you sleep in: __ Pajamas? __ Underwear? __ Nude?

State your college major. (Must be one of these to qualify for student loan)
__ Swine diseases __ Harpsichord tuning __ History of chewing gum

Do you still believe in:
__ Santa Claus? __ Easter Bunny? __ Professional wrestling?

Are you willing to be polygraphed, scrutinized, notarized, and steroid tested to
obtain a loan from us? __ Absolutely __ Positively __ You betcha __ Sure
__ Of course __ Certainly __ No problem

If all of the above is the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth,
sign here in the presence of 12 witnesses (preferrably Supreme Court Justices
and Nobel Prize winners)
_______________ ________
Signature Date

WTF of the Day

Of all the dreams I've ever had, this had to be the one that recurs. As if one morning of WTF-age wasn't enough, my subconscious had to be bombarded with another incidence of this anomalie. It's enough to make you want to swear off network television altogether. Oh yes, my friends, you know that of which I speak.

A certain........inappropriate romp concerning myself and one Peter Jennings of ABC Nightly News.

Suffice to say that things got a little steamy in the news room. Clothing was removed, papers strewn about. A few midly interested cameramen looked on while broadcatsed our desk-rolling antics were broadcast into the homes of suburban America. Any further recollection on my part will result in the puncturing of my mind's eye.

Why Peter Jennings? Why the news room? Why the unattractive cameramen? Why indeed. These are questions that you should only have to ask yourself once. Strike that. These are questions you should never have to ask yourself. Hey, subconscious: WHAT THE FUCK?!?!?!?!?!?!?!

If I had a dime...........

When a fellow actor approaches 5 minutes before you cold read for the "eye candy" of the script and tell you you are a "perpetual walking erection," you know it's going to be a good audition.

Should I laminate this?

For those who have asked:

The Men

1. David Hyde Pierce
2. James Stewart
3. Colin Firth
4. Adrien Brody
5. Lumiere

rotate in Edward Norton, depending on my mood

The stats: gay, deceased, married, single, an animated candlestick

The Women (not that I'm a lesbian, but hypothetically speaking)

1. Gwyneth Paltrow
2. Gillian Anderson
3. Mary Louise Parker
4. Kate Winslet
5. Helena Bonham Carter

Had to put some serious thought into this one. At first I just listed women who were obscenely attractive, but if I did that, my list would be the same as everyone elses. So I attempted to apply the same criteria for what I look for in the opposite sex, and this is what I came up with.

Bonus points if you catch the reference in the title.

Definitely a good idea

You know, Animaniacs was a really great show. I just spent the last hour memorizing the lyrics to "Yakko's World" and "Yakko Sings all the Words in the English Language." Man, that was a great show.

And I still don't have a monologue.

There are some who call me...............Tim?......

Has anyone else noticed that the initials of this blog (and also the name I sign it with) are S.O.L.? This just hit me. For all of you out there who had previously come to this realization and undoubtedly laughed at my expense: Screw you, douche.

"Spark of Life" is from a quote by Kenny Ausubel (not a particularly interesting guy, but whatev) which I liked. Chosen with the reasoning that I'm a Spark of Life in all the lifeless, dull, banal expanse of interenet out there. Yeah. That's me being cheesy, sanctimonious, and self-indulgent.

So. I'm thinking of changing it. My first thought was to go with something theatre-related (maybe "Don't trip on the furniture - bonus points if you get that reference), as most of the things I post revolve around productions, but I really don't want to pigeon-hole myself. I also need to find a good picture. Right now it's a really old one (note the brown hair) from the dancing days. I suppose the picture should be dependent upon the title.......

Suggestions? Anyone, anyone? Bueller?

We now return to your regularly scheduled entries

I'm back at school.

Time to catch up on NDC, A-Funk, THL, Lord Awesome, L1 and all those livejournal buddies. And find a monologue. And read the scripts for auditions. And cut and color my hair. And pay for tuition. And buy a new phone charger.

So maybe I shouldn't waste time reading blogs.

Literary corner with Spark of Life

My favorite part of the holidays is that I get to catch up on reading.

Girl With a Pearl Earring, Lullabye, Invisible Monsters, Citizen Girl

"Citizen" was not as original or witty as "Nanny Diaries."

I've discovered that Chuck Palahniuk is one of my new favorite authors.

I'd been meaning to read "Girl With a Pearl Earring" for a while. Good stuff, that. It took about 60 pages to really get into, and I wasn't too thrilled about the style. Very short sentences (which was probably meant to be expressionistic - the girl wasn't educated) and art metaphors (which are all good and well, as it's a novel about a painting, but it got a bit gimmicky after a while). But the story was great.

Watched the film version. Was very different than the book, and went in a completely different direction than I would have taken it (*laced with sarcasm* because we all know that I am a directorial genius), but I still really enjoyed it. Didn't have many good extras, though.

Colin Firth is seriously coming this close to replacing David Hyde Pierce. But Firth is married. I don't know if that's easier to get around than being gay.......

I am Jack's emotional breakdown

Alright, this is another rant, and a ridiculously histrionic one at that, so please excuse the "my life is sssooooooo hard" attitude for the nest paragraph or so.

So I finally get around to taking the ornaments off the tree (I know, I procrastinated). I'm already a bit cranky because things are back to normal with the Step-Dad (normal = mutual veiled dislike). I can't find half the boxes for the ornaments so now I'm more cranky, and as I'm digging through the big ornament tub, I find an "Our first Christmas Together" ornament. My Mom and Dad's. As in my birth parents. I had no idea my mom kept it. And all of a sudden I'm supremely pissed. Pissed that they got divorced when I don't even remember him, pissed that the should have gotten divorced sooner because they should never have been together (I know this contradicts previous statement, but it makes sense to me), pissed that my mother had me so young. That we're now living in the middle of nowhere. That we finally have a really cool house and it's away from all my friends and I don't even get to live in it for very long. That I can't get past the Hinkypunks on the Harry Potter video game. That my sister is an 8-year-old vindictive brat (lets be honest, vindictive bitch). That I odn't get free movies anymore and I'm working at eff-ing Hallmark. That I'm finally at a point in my life where I'm not completely frightened about relationships, or commitment phobic (maybe that's a lie) and now there's no one around that's even an option. Pissed that I don't know if I can pay for school in the spring. That my brother is ignored and is screwed up in ways that both oldest children and middle children are and he's only 11. Pissed that I'm grossly misunderstood in my family (yes, I'm playing the unappreciated artist card). Pissed that I feel bad about playing the unappreciated artist card. That my mom bought me the wrong copy of the "Evita" soundtrack. That "Phantom" isn't coming to this little podunk town. Pissed that I'm trading my beloved black hair for mousey brown so that maybe, just maybe I won't get cast as another prostitute or vixen. That I had cramps like no other yesterday and I want to rip out my uterus. That I threw up for the first time since 8th grade. Pissed that I haven't seen any of my friends.

Did you make it to the end?

Going postal on the greeting card industry

Listening to bad covers of really bad 80s songs (and a few knock-offs of old show tunes) eclipses AMC's "Movie Tunes" as Worst Part of My Job. Here are some more reasons why Working at Hallmark Sucks Ass, and why I Take Back Anything Bad I Ever Said About Working at the Theatre:

I get paid the same amount, but technically this is less money, since now I don't get free food and movies.

I used to get through shitty days at the theatre relatively well because I love the movies. I was there because ultimately I really wanted to be. Movies rock my life. Shift to now. Work bites because I don't really have a passion for greeting cards. No one does.

I should never work retail. Ever. I am NOT a people person.

For any of you AMC-ers are reading: if you thought the movie theatre patrons were stupid, you should come to Hallmark. There are only so many times someone can ask you "Can you tell me how much this is" before you want to say "LOOK AT THE PRICE TAG, FUCK-ASS!!!!"

Hallmark is completely devoid of the male sex. Employees are all females, customers are all female. And at the moment, I am yearning for a bit of male attention. To all of you guys out there: if you want to pick up women, go to a Hallmark store. Really. They will flock to you, maybe even start dry humping you in the middle of the "Sympathy" section.

50% off means half of the original price, idiot.

Yes, it's Christmas, yes these people are in a hurry, but so is everyone else. And if one more person gets cross with me about how busy we are, or how we're out of everything they wanted, or could you ring us up faster please?, instead of "thanks you, Merry Chistmas", I'm going tot yell "I hope your tree spontaneously combusts and the Time Square ball rolls over your house."

I hate customer service.