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csecooney July 26 2014, 02:56

Full up, and can hold no more

Two more nights of Cymbeline, then we'll put my Villain Queen to rest. She was far less exhausting than Mrs. Daldry, that fragile beauty, and I'm only now delving into her foul mischievousness, the blackguard.

But, yes. Do't and to bed then, you crafty devil. I am done with you. Or will be soon.

The hyperbole of theatre is "good for the soul but it's bad for the heart / It's very good for practicing self control / It's very good for morals, but bad for morale..." I mood-swing like crazy. I go from being wildly elated and electric and powerful and doing this thing I love to do, that I'm trained in, that makes me more wholly me, to feeling socially inept, unwanted, unlovely, awkward, and definitely NOT THE RIGHT AGE.

Not that I ever was, if there ever was such a thing as the right age.

And it's tiresome, to be lonely in company. Solitude has its own weight, sure, but its heaviness suffocates more velvetly, without that bitter acid edge.

All that said, that's... That's just the LOW. The lows of now, the lows of theatre, the lows of me. And mostly I'm not there. I don't dwell in the lowlands. I live in the heights. I live high up, both in outer habitat and in inner landscapes. Mostly it's GIDDY FUN to be in a play. And I speak the rest from weariness.

Tonight was lovely. In an odd moment of my theatre life conjoining with my literary life (HAS NEVER HAPPENED REALLY, though the reverse has happened, when I bring performance to my writing, etc), three of my fellow actors, for reasons of being sweet and supportive, read my novella "Martyr's Gem" which recently made an appearance in Rich Horton's Years Best Science Fiction and Fantasy 2014.

And so, I'm standing there, half-dressed in my royal blue velvets and gold-spangled snood, BEAMING ALL OVER MY FACE, as my fellow actors start talking about what they liked about Martyr's Gem, and Shursta, and Hyrryai, and the whole crew, and the over-arching themes, and catharsis, and world-building, and I can't help it, I start bouncing like a pogo-stick, and I love them all just for... just for being READERS, and for reading ME. And I felt GOLDEN in the glow of their eyes. And happy. And, you know, PAID ATTENTION TO.

"a girl's gotta do, after all
whatever she can
for attention..."

And it did much to wash the rest of it away. The rest of the sting of sadness, and the tiredness, and the readiness to give up theatre and just be a WRITER again, because at least then I can be ALONE with my WISH-FULFILLMENT, and give my inner fiends other meat to feed on than the fleeting fondness of my fellow men.

Oh, it all looks very silly. All of this typing. Here in words.

I AM SILLY. I know it. You don't have to say it. How revoltingly facile, really.

Sometimes I think I'm a great fool to feel anything ever. Wouldn't it be better (much COOLER) to be remote and mysterious and cold?

Sometimes I am that person too. But it never lasts long enough. It always melts in my easy blush of gratitude or of shame.

Tonight I am not cool. But I'm not ashamed either. I am... ZING ZOU ZOU!

All the golden things seem to glitter down at once, don't they? After my last scene, I have a good half hour till curtain call. So I was playing with my new phone, and there received an email from Shveta Thakrar pointing me to K. Tempest Bradford's article in i09 about the week's best short stories.




So, I don't even know.

Ice cream.

I know ice cream. With Baileys.


asakiyume July 26 2014, 00:26

super premium

At the train station, there were single-serving packages of instant oatmeal for sale. Not just any instant oatmeal, but Super Premium oatmeal. Super premium oatmeal? How does oatmeal get to be super premium, exactly? What distinguishes it from run-of-the-mill oatmeal? Are there any other things that are unlikely candidates for super premium status? The healing angel suggested traffic cones and elevators. I suggested intersections and nail clippers.

kylecassidy July 25 2014, 23:21

when did I grow up?

Je suis une bigshot.

I sent a sample chapter to my agent so that he can forward it to publishers, and I talked to my attorney who is suing some jerks who stole my photos, I haven't seen my wife, but we texted back and forth about the cats and the trash.

This might be the most grownup day of my life.

Except for the fact that I had chocolate cake for dinner while blasting heavy metal music.

Add me: [LiveJournal] [Facebook] [Twitter] [Google+] [Tumblr]
pepysdiary July 25 2014, 23:05

Thursday 25 July 1661


This morning came my box of papers from Brampton of all my uncle’s papers, which will now set me at work enough. At noon I went to the Exchange, where I met my uncle Wight, and found him so discontented about my father (whether that he takes it ill that he has not been acquainted with things, or whether he takes it ill that he has nothing left him, I cannot tell), for which I am much troubled, and so staid not long to talk with him.

Thence to my mother’s, where I found my wife and my aunt Bell and Mrs. Ramsey, and great store of tattle there was between the old women and my mother, who thinks that there is, God knows what fallen to her, which makes me mad, but it was not a proper time to speak to her of it, and so I went away with Mr. Moore, and he and I to the Theatre, and saw “The Jovial Crew,” the first time I saw it, and indeed it is as merry and the most innocent play that ever I saw, and well performed. From thence home, and wrote to my father and so to bed. Full of thoughts to think of the trouble that we shall go through before we come to see what will remain to us of all our expectations.

Read the annotations

redcolumbine posted to davis_square July 25 2014, 22:57

Customer rally for Market Basket boycott 12-2 Sat Jul 26

For those of you who've been following the Market Basket debacle, the Board of Directers basically voted to stall indefinitely today, so that the workers would be in danger of being fired if they stayed out longer. So the spotlight's shifted to the customers, and there's a rolling customer rally from noon to 2PM tomorrow, at every Market Basket. Will I be seeing any of you there?
cherylmmorgan July 25 2014, 22:36

Trans Pride – Day 1

Originally published at Cheryl's Mewsings. Please leave any comments there.

Today I headed down to Brighton for their annual Trans Pride. The trains, thankfully, more or less behaved themselves, and I got a good chunk of Nnedi Okorafor’s Lagoon read. I’m loving it thus far.

The only event today was the film festival, which took place at the Duke of York’s Picturehouse. It is a fabulous old building, and claims to be the oldest continually operating, purpose-built cinema in the UK — it opened in 1910.

For those who don’t know, Brighton has a long and honorable history in the movie business. William Friese-Green had a studio here in addition to the one in Bristol. His sometime partner, Alfred Esmé Collings, went on to shoot a number of short films in Brighton in 1896. That includes one with the fabulously Brighton name of Train Arriving at Dyke Station, though sadly that actually refers to a local beauty-spot called Devil’s Dyke, not to any actual dykes.

There is a full history of Brighton’s involvement in films available here.

But enough digression. Back to the evening’s entertainment. The first hour was mainly material from Fox & Lewis’s My Genderation series, much of which was being screened for the first time. The star of the show was undoubtedly a 9-year-old trans boy called Kai who is totally lovable. There were a lot of really moving scenes of trans folk with supportive friends, families and partners. Fox and Lewis have also shot films interviewing their own families. My mum would totally relate to what Fox’s mum says.

The rest of the program was a diverse range of films from around the world, plus some comedy shorts featuring Claire Parker (and at one point guest-staring Lewis as a sexist laborer).

My favorite of the additional material was a Scottish film called James Dean. It is shot entirely in a car as a family — parents plus two teenage children — is about to set off to visit an aunt. One of the children is trying to get her parents to admit that the aunt is a lesbian, but the parents insist that the kids are too young to know what that means. Meanwhile the other child is trying to come out as trans. It is very funny, and brilliantly acted.

It all went very well, and then many of us headed down to the Marlborough. Part of the celebrations this weekend is the launch of Brighton Transformed, a local history of trans people in Brighton. You’ll hear a lot more about that from me on Twitter tomorrow. But as a taster here is a montage of images posted on one of the outside walls of the Marlborough.

Brighton*Transformed display

lillibet posted to davis_square July 25 2014, 21:58

Shakespeare Slam!

Theatre@First welcomes you to the stage this Sunday for an afternoon of beer with the Bard!

Get up on stage and strut your Shakespeare stuff! Monologues, sonnets, stand-up...where there's Will, there's a way to the stage! Or sit back, relax and enjoy performances by some of the best Shakespeareans in the Boston area.

$5 to participate, $10 to watch! We'll have materials on hand in case you're inspired in the moment to get your Bard of Avon on.

From 2:00-2:30 PM, you can order food and drinks, sign up for last-minute performance slots, or just catch up with friends. Performances will begin at 2:30!

We'll have exciting performers ready to entertain us, trivia contests and prizes, and a sneak preview of Theatre@First's upcoming production of Henry the 4th!
catherineldf July 25 2014, 21:42

Diversicon 22 this weekend

And I have been horribly ill (virus + ear infection) all week. I won't make it tonight and tomorrow's iffy. But I hope some of you folks go. GOHs are Carolyn Ives Gilman and Terry Garey. Aqueduct Press will be there and there'll be lots of good discussion.

My schedule, if I can beat this thing:

Saturday, Noon-12:55 PM, Main Stage (Soo Line Room)--Panel: Queer and Feminist Sci-Fi Theater in the Twin Cities. Tessa Johnstone Carlson and Jessi Hiemer (Gadfly Theater Productions. And possibly me.

Saturday, July 26:
3:00-3:55 PM, Krushenko's (Room 101). Panel: LGBTQ SF/F You Should be Reading. Catherine Lundoff, mod.; Robin Raienimi.
And the 5PM autographing, also on Saturday. Send good wishes that I can beat this thing please! I hate missing cons after I've agreed to a schedule. :-(

funnel101 July 25 2014, 21:11

Chesapeake Cats and Dogs "Strut Your Mutt"

145aWhen I was kid growing up with JRA, I had a best friend who wasn't human. Her name was Sugar, and she was my Siamese cat. I lost Sugar to kidney failure in 2008 and suddenly found myself full of love and time and no one to spend it on. It was then that I started volunteering with Chesapeake Cats and Dogs, a local non-profit no-kill animal rescue.

There's a misconception about being involved with an animal rescue that I'd like to dismiss. This misconception is that it's hard. Working with homeless animals, seeing the constant influx of pets who were once loved and now abandoned, always searching for the perfect home for an animal that might be—let's be honest—less than perfect. This sounds hard, doesn't it?

I'll admit that there are days when it's hard. Days when we lose an animal or have one returned from what we thought was its perfect home. Days when we wonder how we're even going to continue, how we can find the money necessary to give these animals what they need to find the homes they deserve.

But you know what would be harder, for me? Doing nothing.

1238980_10152423352416996_761220809_n​Because these cats at the adoption center at Chesapeake Cats and Dogs are unbelievably wonderful. They make me feel like a rock star when I walk into the adoption center. They let me know each and every time I visit how much what I'm doing—even when it seems like it's so little!—matters to them. And when I happen to not be able to visit for a week or two? Wow do they let me know they missed me! And I miss them, too!

I wish everyone could come to know these cats like I do. If everyone who walked into our adoption center could see these cats the way I do, no one would ever leave without filling out an adoption application or volunteer form.

These cats make it easy for me to do whatever I can for them. Being involved in the lives of these cats has given me far more joy than heartache. Because my love for these cats is boundless, it gives me all the energy I need to make it through the hard times.

I know I'm needed. I know I'm loved. I know I'm where I'm supposed to be.

And that's why I'm supporting Chesapeake Cats and Dogs at this year's Best Friends "Strut Your Mutt". I can't exaggerate how important CCAD is to me. And CCAD needs your help to continue. Please consider
sponsoring me for "Strut Your Mutt"
. I'd really appreciate it!

Thank you!

annathepiper July 25 2014, 21:01

Comic review: Storm #1, by Marvel

I’ve mentioned before I was eager to pick up the debut issue of Marvel’s new storyline for Storm. That issue has just dropped, and I gotta say, I was quite delighted by it. I’ve already been happy to be reading the lines for Black Widow, Captain Marvel, and Ms. Marvel, but this? This made me happy in ways the others haven’t yet, just because I know Storm.

Storm Preview

Storm Preview

She’s the first superheroine who ever caught my eye and made me interested in comics, way back in my middle school days when I hung out with young nerd boys who were reading X-Men releases. I remember liking Storm in no small part because she was a girl on a team that was predominantly male. But I also thought she was beautiful, and graceful, and oh my goddess, her hair. I remember reading her origin story, and can still recall the panels of a young Ororo, skyborn over her African village, her face radiant with joy as she called down the rains onto the drought-stricken land.

I fell out of reading the X-Men not long after the Dark Phoenix saga, so I haven’t been paying attention to them outside a movie context in ages. But reading Storm #1? It felt like coming home.

The story: very basic and straightforward, with an A-plot pertaining to Storm lending aid to an African village, and having the maturity now to better know how to handle saving them without threatening other locations beyond them. The village is delighted to accept her help, and there’s a shot of her getting her picture taken with a young girl, and both of them have joyous expressions that were just beautiful to behold. Naturally there are complications–because the village in question is located in a country with an anti-mutant regime, and the local soldiers are very direct in telling her she’s not wanted or welcome.

The B-plot, also straightforward. Storm’s now headmistress of the Jean Gray School for Higher Learning–what I used to know as the Charles Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters. And there’s a student with plant powers (“ooh, a plantshaper!” says the Elfquest fan in my brain), codename Flourish, only she’s been saddled with the nickname Creep by her classmates. She’s getting bullied. And she lashes out at Storm in ways that make Ororo have to confront her own choices.

Art-wise, gosh, this was lovely. Especially all the panels with Ororo in the air, and the last page in particular is glorious. You should look at this issue on the strength of the art alone.

Here are some other reviews you can sample, including several with lovely preview glimpses of the art. And I very much like Adventures in Poor Taste’s caption of “Umm… sir? Let’s not be a douche to the woman who stopped a hundred foot tall wave, alright?” Because yeah.

Mirrored from angelahighland.com.

patchwork_prose July 25 2014, 20:00

The wind died down

The sunflower was a surprise. I had tossed some seeds on that side of the house, once the tulips died back, and that's the only new wildflower to show up. I did likewise in the bacn wildflower/salad garden after the rabbit ate the lettuce, and some small flowers are showing up. The honey bees are busy in the midst of the hollyhock and thistle plants, and I've seen several butterflies and dragonflies in the mix. It's nice to have something more fun to photograph than hoverflies and deerflies.



Another bad allergy day. Going to search, now, for the eye lubricant. (Or, I could just not go outside to take photos of the flowers and . . . well, maybe not that.

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