Have You Had This Baguette? It Tastes Like 'F'
I have once again thrown my hat into the Holiday Love Meme! Please say wonderful and nice things about me. I had a bad day at work (there were tears).
But my bad day at work was balanced out by a phone call I received during dinner.
On Saturday, I had auditioned for DeathPlay, the next Thunderbird show. It was about two theatre companies fighting to the death for the last theatre space in town. Out of the six people in the slot, only three of us showed up, which meant we all got to read a lot. It was very fun, although I had to overcome the fact that my partners couldn't read sides very well.
I GOT IN. I WAS CAST. I HAVE NOT BEEN IN A SHOW IN SIX YEARS. UNLESS YOU COUNT AMWA SKITS.
I didn't get the part I really wanted-it went to someone who'll be awesome, though-but I will be playing one of a pair of union stagehands who function as the Greek chorus or the Fools. I think it's the smallest part in the play, but there are no small parts, only small actors! And besides, there really aren't any small parts in a Thunderbird show. Everyone has a good time.
On Saturday, after the audition and before Writers with Drinks, Seanan (cadhla) and I wandered the Mission looking for dinner. Seanan is a picky eater, so the default taquería suggestion wouldn't fly. We came across Cafe La Boheme on 24th. They appeared to serve food that was palatable to both of us, but there were no free tables. There was one table, however, that was empty but for one cute girl reading a book. She looked Middle Eastern, Persian or Iranian.
Seanan asked if we could sit with her, and she said it was okay. I noticed she was reading Player Piano, by Kurt Vonnegut. She had just started. I had just been at a used bookstore and passed on a Vonnegut title. I asked her if she'd gotten it from Abandoned Planet. She said she'd gotten it from Borderlands, which we had just come from. I told her I had been looking at a Vonnegut but couldn't remember the title. I asked to see inside her book for a list of titles to jog my memory, but none did. (I think it was The Sirens of Titan.) I said I'd only read Slaughterhouse-Five but wanted to read more, and she was in the same situation, hence the book.
Seanan recommended I read Cat's Cradle and explained the premise, which she said made her think for the first time that there were some things science shouldn't do. I said I was watching Dollhouse and thinking the same thing.
The girl commented, "That was canceled, right?" A cute girl who read Vonnegut and knew about Dollhouse! Huh. I think at this point, she had given up all pretense of trying to read while we carried on a conversation a foot away from her and instead began conversing with us. She asked us if we knew any good music venues. Oh, there were many! We flipped through the SFWeekly looking for shows. She liked indie rock.
As it turned out, she was from out of town. Like, from France. And she was in town for a geophysics conference! A cute French geophysicist who read Vonnegut, liked indie rock, and knew about Dollhouse. I tell you, I am amazed that I was able to talk to her without stumbling over my words. Her name was Selene.
Since she was staying near Union Square, I told her about the glass elevator in the Westin St. Francis. I also invited her to Seanan's reading and told her how to get to the Make-Out Room. She was going to meet up with some of her colleagues and see what they were doing, but she said she might check it out. She put on her black fedora and bid us adieu (not literally, although she totally should have).
"Of all the places you should not invite cute French girls to," said Seanan, "the 'Make-Out Room' is at the top."
"That is my plan!" I cried. "I have not yet made out in the Make-Out Room. I am trying to rectify that."
Of course, she did not show up, and she is out there somewhere in San Francisco right now not making out with me.
But my bad day at work was balanced out by a phone call I received during dinner.
On Saturday, I had auditioned for DeathPlay, the next Thunderbird show. It was about two theatre companies fighting to the death for the last theatre space in town. Out of the six people in the slot, only three of us showed up, which meant we all got to read a lot. It was very fun, although I had to overcome the fact that my partners couldn't read sides very well.
I GOT IN. I WAS CAST. I HAVE NOT BEEN IN A SHOW IN SIX YEARS. UNLESS YOU COUNT AMWA SKITS.
I didn't get the part I really wanted-it went to someone who'll be awesome, though-but I will be playing one of a pair of union stagehands who function as the Greek chorus or the Fools. I think it's the smallest part in the play, but there are no small parts, only small actors! And besides, there really aren't any small parts in a Thunderbird show. Everyone has a good time.
On Saturday, after the audition and before Writers with Drinks, Seanan (cadhla) and I wandered the Mission looking for dinner. Seanan is a picky eater, so the default taquería suggestion wouldn't fly. We came across Cafe La Boheme on 24th. They appeared to serve food that was palatable to both of us, but there were no free tables. There was one table, however, that was empty but for one cute girl reading a book. She looked Middle Eastern, Persian or Iranian.
Seanan asked if we could sit with her, and she said it was okay. I noticed she was reading Player Piano, by Kurt Vonnegut. She had just started. I had just been at a used bookstore and passed on a Vonnegut title. I asked her if she'd gotten it from Abandoned Planet. She said she'd gotten it from Borderlands, which we had just come from. I told her I had been looking at a Vonnegut but couldn't remember the title. I asked to see inside her book for a list of titles to jog my memory, but none did. (I think it was The Sirens of Titan.) I said I'd only read Slaughterhouse-Five but wanted to read more, and she was in the same situation, hence the book.
Seanan recommended I read Cat's Cradle and explained the premise, which she said made her think for the first time that there were some things science shouldn't do. I said I was watching Dollhouse and thinking the same thing.
The girl commented, "That was canceled, right?" A cute girl who read Vonnegut and knew about Dollhouse! Huh. I think at this point, she had given up all pretense of trying to read while we carried on a conversation a foot away from her and instead began conversing with us. She asked us if we knew any good music venues. Oh, there were many! We flipped through the SFWeekly looking for shows. She liked indie rock.
As it turned out, she was from out of town. Like, from France. And she was in town for a geophysics conference! A cute French geophysicist who read Vonnegut, liked indie rock, and knew about Dollhouse. I tell you, I am amazed that I was able to talk to her without stumbling over my words. Her name was Selene.
Since she was staying near Union Square, I told her about the glass elevator in the Westin St. Francis. I also invited her to Seanan's reading and told her how to get to the Make-Out Room. She was going to meet up with some of her colleagues and see what they were doing, but she said she might check it out. She put on her black fedora and bid us adieu (not literally, although she totally should have).
"Of all the places you should not invite cute French girls to," said Seanan, "the 'Make-Out Room' is at the top."
"That is my plan!" I cried. "I have not yet made out in the Make-Out Room. I am trying to rectify that."
Of course, she did not show up, and she is out there somewhere in San Francisco right now not making out with me.