Recitare = to act or perform
At the top of the (short) list of verbs I hate: kvetch. I may be hypersensitive, but isn't this just "complain" + Jewish slur? Kind of like how mince to me conveys "walk" + "I hate gay people."
My dispatch today comes from California. The town is teeny and a little bit hickish, but this is more than made up for by the gentility of the older gay couple who are hosting me for the duration of my stay here, study-abroad style. We have wine, fruit, and cheese in the afternoons and talk about opera. They, together with the local abundance of natural awesomeness (today I went to the creatively named Big Trees State Park and hugged some giant sequoias), make up for the fact that we are pretty much the sum total of cultural happenings for miles and miles around.
The theater is small and the audiences advanced in years, but it's all very historical and our "worshipful" production of Sisters of Swing, which opened last week, has gone down well so far; I've been asked to stay on and music-direct Damn Yankees after our show closes at the end of June. They'll be tracking the show (i.e. using canned music), a practice I normally loathe, but it does mean I won't have to stay for the run of the show, and in July can move on to wherever it is I'm going after this. Not that I'm especially eager to figure out where that might be (Plan A at the moment is Back to Bagels, but that means finding housing in New York, and whenever I think about doing that I suddenly feel very sleepy).
Speaking of the future, when I first read this xkcd a while back, when I was applying to grad schools, I got kind of a pang in my stomach, but it's a little bit of a relief to me to discover that there are no lighthouse-keepers anymore; the last one died in 2003. It's ironic because in the attached NPR interview he talks about how being a lighthouse-keeper is lonely and not romantic at all, and how irritating it is when tourists come knocking thinking lighthouse-keeping is paradise on earth.
I need another link to balance this entry out: Train is a board game that kind of made me rethink what a board game can do -- it's effectively about the moment when you decide to stop playing, which I think makes it almost a work of art rather than a game.
Oh, and the rule is that if you're reading this and have graduated within the last two weeks, you have to update me. You don't have to do a full LJ update, but at least post a comment so I know what state you're in, or how your exotic Caribbean cruise went.
My dispatch today comes from California. The town is teeny and a little bit hickish, but this is more than made up for by the gentility of the older gay couple who are hosting me for the duration of my stay here, study-abroad style. We have wine, fruit, and cheese in the afternoons and talk about opera. They, together with the local abundance of natural awesomeness (today I went to the creatively named Big Trees State Park and hugged some giant sequoias), make up for the fact that we are pretty much the sum total of cultural happenings for miles and miles around.
The theater is small and the audiences advanced in years, but it's all very historical and our "worshipful" production of Sisters of Swing, which opened last week, has gone down well so far; I've been asked to stay on and music-direct Damn Yankees after our show closes at the end of June. They'll be tracking the show (i.e. using canned music), a practice I normally loathe, but it does mean I won't have to stay for the run of the show, and in July can move on to wherever it is I'm going after this. Not that I'm especially eager to figure out where that might be (Plan A at the moment is Back to Bagels, but that means finding housing in New York, and whenever I think about doing that I suddenly feel very sleepy).
Speaking of the future, when I first read this xkcd a while back, when I was applying to grad schools, I got kind of a pang in my stomach, but it's a little bit of a relief to me to discover that there are no lighthouse-keepers anymore; the last one died in 2003. It's ironic because in the attached NPR interview he talks about how being a lighthouse-keeper is lonely and not romantic at all, and how irritating it is when tourists come knocking thinking lighthouse-keeping is paradise on earth.
I need another link to balance this entry out: Train is a board game that kind of made me rethink what a board game can do -- it's effectively about the moment when you decide to stop playing, which I think makes it almost a work of art rather than a game.
Oh, and the rule is that if you're reading this and have graduated within the last two weeks, you have to update me. You don't have to do a full LJ update, but at least post a comment so I know what state you're in, or how your exotic Caribbean cruise went.