Another good article about my play, this time from the university’s daily paper, The Red and Black. Tonight is opening night. Last night’s preview dress rehearsal in front of an audience went very well. I think it’ll be a hit.
Theater reviews almost never happen in this town. Previews usually get run in the papers, but they can be hit and miss. The first one for my show is out, and it’s nicely done: OnlineAthens: Entertainment: The guest who never left.
I’m going to order one of those mind-erasing kits. You see, if I erase my mind and forget how sleepy I am, I’ll stay awake forever!
I’ve been averaging four hours sleep a night over the last, oh, week or so. On the plus side, for the first time in a while, I’ve shared my bed the last two nights. Even if it’s just for a few hours, cuddling always makes me sleep better. The object of my affections? A bundle of fur named Sheridan. He’s a young stray that started hanging out at the theater (oddly enough) right after I wrote about it being almost time for a kitty. As cat lovers know, cats choose their owners and not the other way around, and the cat god decided the time was now, not two weeks from now. He’s pure black — every last hair. He’s very affectionate. He took to the litter box without trouble. He was mighty hungry and loves fish. He sleeps on my chest with his paws on my chin. My lease forbids animals, but my landlords told me when I moved in that I could have a cat (or dog, for that matter) if I asked them. “Have to keep out the riff raff, you know.”
So this is my idea. I’m thinking about ordering one of those mind-erasing kits.
Some of you may know of Mike Shawaluk’s labor of love, the Space Ghost Coast to Coast Episode Guide. It has, among other things, complete transcripts of every episode. And now it’s completely searchable, meaning you can easily find where they’ve discussed cheese. Or monkeys. Or organ grinder monkeys on cheese twists.
Suppose President Bush had written a letter to his son suggesting that while Dick Cheney would make a fine Vice President, how about running with dear old dad instead. Michael Kelly of the Washington Post has not only supposed the existance of such a letter, he went ahead and wrote the whole thing. It’s a very funny read.
Freefill: Drink Different™ The freefill concept will ultimately change how we think about ourselves, and the world. Until that time, freefills will be used by a select number of citizens when demanding more than one cup of their beverage of choice.
Mmmm, this is some good coffee! I thought we were out of coffee.
“I found some more. It’s in the orange container.”
(does spit take) You fool! (collapses) That’s decaf!
My horoscope for the week, from Free Will Astrology:
“… fungi are primarily responsible for keeping the earth fresh. Without them to eat away dead leaves and trees, larger and larger piles of compost would keep accumulating forever. I’m asking you to let the heroic fungi inspire you in the coming weeks, my dear. Devote yourself to expediting the decay of the defunct parts of your life.”
I don’t know what made me check this today, but I’m glad I did. I can see the rich black compost and feel the grains under my fingernails. I can taste the flavorful spongy mushrooms and smell the earthy yet clean aroma. Oh, here I am being “obscenely sensual” again. I can’t help it. It’s Day Eighteen, and all is well.
With my play opening on Friday, I’ve entered into what is affectionally known as “hell week”. I’m also filling in for two of my coworkers as they are off to install another client, so work’s overly busy this week, too. I’ll write when I can, but I’m warning you now it’ll be slim pickin’s around here for a few days.
freebies & dealies: a weblog dedicated to sniffing out offers of free goodies on the net. Not only does she tell you where to find stuff, she logs the stuff she got in the mail that day. Free worms, anyone?
Muscled, black with steel-green eye
swishing through the rye grass
with thoughts of mouse-and-apple pie.
Tail balancing at half-mast.
…And the mouse police never sleeps
lying in the cherry tree.
Savage bed foot-warmer
of purest feline ancestry.
Look out, little furry folk!
He’s the all-night working cat.
Eats but one in every ten
leaves the others on the mat.
cupofwonder.com is a wonderful collection of annotated Jethro Tull lyrics. The song above, Mouse Police, is one of my favorites. When my play’s over in a couple weeks, I think it’ll be time to get me a cat. I need me a kitty.
According to the Beerometer, Armadillo’s is the place to be in Athens on a Thursday when you only have $5 and want to get falling-down-drunk.
There’s an interesting conversation going on in one of my cheesemaking mail lists about “cheese skippers”. These little guys lead to “crawling cheese”. I understand these were everywhere a few generations ago, but in our ultra-clean society, things like this are not seen much anymore. I’ll spare you the details… just know that sometimes it takes something larger than a bacterium to make a cheese come out right.
Lisa: You like musicals don’t you dad?
Homer: No, I don’t, I think they’re bad. They’re fake and phony and totally wrong.
Bart: Wake up dad, you’re singing a song.
Since I’ve already mentioned lyrics, here’s The Simpsons Song Lyrics Archive. They’ve got them all. Even the one-liners.
In a bold move sure to bring the search engines a-calling, I give to you pictures of girls in bikinis having fun. The Kestrel’s Nest twist is that these are 2000 year old Roman mosaics. They look amazingly modern! These are part of Project Perseus; I’ve only just begun exploring.
Yesterday was primary elections in Georgia, and across the state, incumbents got thrown out. The most significant was right here in Athens, where the senior state senator, Paul Broun, got defeated by Doug Haines. Even CNN ran a story about it. The media is theorizing that Haines won because of education issues, but the real reason seems to be the strength of Haines’ grass-roots style campaigning. He was everywhere. He rode his bike around town with a group of supporters regularly. His big focus was environmental issues — anti-sprawl talk is what gave him the most attention. Athens is teetering on the edge of the slope that leads to a town of strip malls. The good side is currently winning more than it’s losing, but it’s still a tough fight. Haines (assuming he wins the regular election) will be a great asset. If you want to read more, here’s our local paper’s take on the primary.
It’s always a good day when you can measure the tomato harvest by the gallon. I took this picture on Sunday evening, and I’ve already eaten most of them, which is good since there’s another gallon waiting to be picked. I started picking on the big end of the garden, so you can’t see all the yummy amish and yellow and roma fruits hiding under the little balls of sweetness. I eat the cherry tomatoes like candy and use the big ones on sandwiches and eggs and things. The romas I’ve been peeling and freezing. I will not be in short supply of tomato sauce this winter.
One of the most beautiful pieces of land I’ve seen is soon to be a public trust. The Baca Ranch, nestled snug in the Valles caldera in the heart of the Jemez mountains, is one of the most pristine areas still in private hands. At $101 million, I think it’s a steal.
It’s been one of those weeks
You know… one of those life-changing weeks that comes around every few years. This entry is going to be especially journally and introspective. This weblog is really a time capsule for me. It’s written for an audience of one, but it gives me great satisfaction to know so many people come back to see what I’m putting in it. As always, come along for the ride if you wish. If not, that’s OK too. Have a Kestrel’s Nest Recipe Idea instead:
Fry an egg until just set through, using as little oil as you can get away with. Season the egg with your favorite dried herbs. On an oven-proof plate, place a slice of bread, preferably a tasty whole grain bread. Put the cooked egg on the bread. Cover the egg with thinly sliced smoked gouda cheese. Cover the cheese with slices of ripe tomato and season with salt and pepper. If you can’t get a tomato right off the vine, do what you can. It’ll still be delightful. Cover the tomato with sliced cheddar. Place the entire stack under the broiler until the cheese is bubbly and just beginning to brown. Eat right away. If you wish, you can skip the gouda and tomato and still have a first-rate breakfast.
Sometimes things happen that seem insignificant, and they pass by without notice only to begin a chain reaction that changes everything. There’s no way to tell for certain if a specific event is the beginning of something huge, and that’s part of the joy of experiencing life. Not knowing. I have a strong hunch, though, that breakfast last Saturday was one of those sparks. I was introduced to someone, and I saw everything change. Like one of those fun moments in Run Lola Run where the camera suddenly focuses on a passer-by and we see a fast motion slide show of the future, I saw life unfold. I don’t know if my other breakfast companions, two longtime friends, saw any of this in me, but I felt a change from the pre-breakfast Eric to post-breakfast Eric, and my internal calendar changed itself accordingly. Day Zero and counting. It was exhilarating — terror and joy and wonder and excitement. It’s a wonder that I could talk or eat, but both seemed to happen without impairment.
The four of us shared each other’s company for nearly two hours, but that was far too short. Still, there was nothing to be done: I had to go to the theater for set call (to be followed by a cast and crew party there). We parted ways, but not before I invited all three of them to the party. My newly met someone did even better by coming to help with the set call. She painted. I beamed. The work was followed by the wildly fun croquet wiffleball cookout I wrote about last week. A good time was had by all, but I’d wager that no one enjoyed it more than I.
But I had some unfinished business to take care of. This spring, a mighty close friendship flared into romance. It wasn’t sudden; it wasn’t earthshaking. But it was very nice. The future looked rosy. But, despite effort and emotion, it wasn’t to be. After a strong beginning, things sputtered. We each knew the prognosis, and we each knew that the other knew, but for whatever reason, nothing was said. Maybe it was the fear of losing the friendship that started the whole thing, or maybe it was something else. I was there, but I can’t tell you why things happened the way they did. But, with the sudden appearance of Day Zero, the time had come. At the same time I was elated with other events, the prospect of this conversation terrified me. I didn’t eat for two days prior (sure, the Chinese buffet was filling and all, but that wasn’t what kept me from eating). I was a nervous wreck. When the moment came, I could barely talk. But when I did, everything turned out OK. All the “I know”’s came out, followed by all the “I know you know”’s. I destroyed a romance, but kept (and probably saved) a friendship. All of this would have happened anyway, and probably should have happened before, but The Breakfast set the spark.
The rest of the week (outside of work and rehearsal) was taken up by events set in motion on Day Zero. Phone calls into the wee hours. In-person conversations into the wee hours. Dancing into the wee hours. It’d been a while since I’d seen so many wee hours, but I didn’t mind.
And so here I am, a full week later. Already, my life has changed. I’m incredibly happy for the present and excited for the future. I don’t know where the chain of events sparked by The Breakfast will lead me, but I’m ready. After all, that’s part of the joy of experiencing life. Not knowing. And suddenly I have a whole new life to experience.