So, the little one had her stage debut this morning in a Young Performers version of High School Musical. My husband feared our only been 4 for two weeks child would stand off to the side, goofing around and picking her nose (or mooning the crowd). Thankfully, she did better than he expected. She only lifted her shirt a few times, and that was to check out the microphone pack she was wearing. She did find a piece of string onstage that fascinated her for the better part of a song, but she got through it and said all her lines! Luckily, she’s so freakin’ cute that the audience adored her (and no, that’s not just proud mama talk – really.)
Blog
Here a Boleyn, there a Boleyn, everywhere a Boleyn…
Just picked up Philppa Gregory’s newest novel at the library: The Boleyn Inheritance. It is a little different from her past work – the story is in first person, but it is broken down into sections, so that the reader alternates between three women: Jane Boleyn (married to Anne’s infamous brother), Anne of Cleves (Henry’s 4th wife), and Katherine Howard (Henry’s 5th wife). So far, I am enjoying the rotation of the characters’ voices – and seeing the story unfold like a patchwork quilt. Gregory is doing a nice job making each woman distinct from each other, and establishing their personalities from the very first paragraph.
The nature of Gregory’s historical fiction is inherently ripe with dramatic irony – it will be interesting to see how she uses this to her advantage.
The only thing I have found disturbing so far is the way her current depictions of Anne of Cleves and Jane Boleyn contradict the picture that characters in her previous novels have painted of them. I suppose the difference can be attributed to the fact that before – we met these women through the eyes of others (people who, for the most part, disliked them) and now, we are seeing them through their own eyes. It’s always interesting to compare the way you view yourself, and how others view you. Interesting, and a little scary!
Rainy Days are for Romance
Novels that is. We’ve had rain here all week long – and soggy grey skies make me want to curl up with a mug of hot tea (or cocoa) and a hot romance novel. It feels so indulgent to lounge around and read. At least when it’s raining, I don’t feel guilty that I should be outside doing something. Of course, gorgeous warm summer days are also made for romance novels – this time on a blanket outside with an icy glass of lemonade (or some wine). Soaking up the heat of the sun makes me feel deliciously lazy.
You know, I guess anyday is a good day for reading a romance novel.
The Romance of Tragedy
So, one of my favorite sites posted a magazine article that endeavored to list the most romantic novels of all time and then went on to contest many of the selections; while encouraging suggestions for what should be on the list. I paid my 2 cents, of course – but I am sad to see how many people disagree with the choice of Shakespeare’s Romeo & Juliet.
Many comments were made to the effect that R&J was nothing more than two whiny teenagers who fell in love too fast for it to be real. R&J is all about true love, love at first sight, love that is worth dying for; isn’t this the stuff of romance?
The romance of that first moment Romeo sets his eyes on Juliet, and, breathless, watches her move through the room. Sure, he was your average teenage boy, who, seconds before was panting after some other chick – he even admits it to himself – and he understands the difference between the lust he felt for Rosaline, and the all-consuming passion he feels for Juliet. The film Shakespeare in Love capitalizes on this moment – mimicking it in the way Will sees Viola for the first time. I love that movie too, and am fully aware a great deal of the attraction lies in its playing out as the frame-story for the making of R&J (that, and damn Joseph Fiennes is fine!)
Yes, R&J are two head-strong teenagers who run full force into a reckless marriage – but, c’mon – we’ve all been teenagers, and that incredible rush of emotion, that insane need to be with the object of your desire every waking (and sleeping) moment is something we all have felt – if you didn’t, I’m so sorry. Running away and getting married may be just a childish fantasy in the minds of the modern teenage girl – but it was an attainable fantasy for R&J (hence, some of the appeal). Reckless hotheaded behavior is a trademark of new (and especially adolescent) love. Perhaps the families of R&J could have discovered the relationship and decided, it wasn’t such a bad thing – and then the teenagers could eventually mature and get bored with each other – but then, it wouldn’t be as romantic – would it?
I know this is one of the major arguments people have against R&J – that, if left alive long enough – the young couple would lose their passion for each other and move on – but hey, maybe we’re selling their love short…I’m married to a man I fell in love with when I was 16, and while our passion may not be as all-consuming as “I-will-die-to-be-with-you-forever”, it is a flame that has burned for 14+ years. Perhaps that is the tragedy here: that, dying in the early blossom of their love, the couple never had a chance to settle into their feelings and grow old together – leaving the world to dismiss their love as trivial.
I remember when I was first introduced to R&J – I was in 5th grade, and couldn’t sleep one night, so I ended up flipping channels. I happened upon Zefirelli’s 1968 film version – and was enraptured. I became obsessed with the story of R&J: I found copies of the play, I scoured the t.v. guide waiting for the movie to come on t.v. again and stayed up all night to record it (this was 1987, ok – no DVD’s, no tivo, no e-bay), then I set up my tape player and recorded the movie on audio cassette so I could listen to it on headphones at night. I harassed my parents with questions about the characters and their actions, I tried (unsuccessfully) to share my passion for this story with my friends, and above all – I read, watched, or listened to the story on a daily basis. I passed through this phase, eventually, but the impact this play had on me has endured. Even attempting to teach R&J to obnoxious apathetic high school freshman hasn’t dulled my love for this story.
The heartache of all the “what if’s” or “if only’s” in this tale are what do it for me – there are so many little moments, small steps, that – if one thing had been done differently – if one minute more had passed – then everything could have turned out alright. Life is like that – the worst heartache comes from the regret born of that burning question: “what if.” It is that question that kept me up so many nights as a star-eyed 10 year old; young enough to never have experienced such wrenching despair herself – but old enough to recognize it when I saw it – and for me – I don’t just read, see, or hear R&J I feel it.
I Go, You Go, We all Go for Bunco!
Yes, dare I admit it? I play Bunco. While part of me feels like a little old lady in a retirement home, I have to say – it’s a blast! You and 11 other gals get together, drink copious amounts of alcohol, eat all kinds of chick foods that are bad for you (translation – its got lots of chocolate or cheese), talk smack, and play for cash and prizes. It’s a blast. The Mom’s group I belong to started a Bunco night once a month in January, and it is a night I always look forward to. I just hosted this month’s Bunco at my house, and it was a great time. The daughter spent the night at a cousin’s – but poor hubby was sick with a bad cold (that he caught from me) and hid upstairs with his Ipod on. “It wasn’t too bad,” he said, when I asked him how loud we were, “Except I kept hearing a freaking bell ring every few minutes.”
So, yes, I play Bunco. Who knows – maybe I’ll become a BINGO junkie this summer too.
The Director’s Nightmare
If you’re a theatre-type person, you have probably, at some point, read, seen, or even performed the lil’ comedy by Chrostopher Durang known as “The Actor’s Nightmare” in which some sad schmo (how the hell do you spell schmo anyway?) finds himself the star of a play he has no knowledge of (I am aware of the dangling preposition, but feel it is appropriate, thank you). Well – I believe the director’s nightmare is some sad schmo who finds herself struggling to control a production in which ALL the actors seem to have no knowledge of. Sadly, I am living this nightmare right now – I just hope that the performances don’t end up giving me actual nightmares. Oh well, it will be over by the end of next week, and then I can put this production to rest…ha-ha.
20 minutes/day
Well, the first 20 days have passed and I actually was quite successful – until those last 2 days. Aaargh! Yes, my life is so busy that on Saturday & Sunday, I could not scrape together 20 minutes to work out. Between play performances and baking/wrapping/organizing for my daughter’s 4th birthday party – the weekend was here and gone before it even got started. Ah well – the question is, do I still give myself the reward I had planned for completing all 20 days? (The reward is new running shoes) I think I may have to go ahead and say yes – yes I shall reward myself. Usually, I am an all-or-nothing girl, and seem to enjoy denying myself if I feel I haven’t worked hard enough or done a good enough job – but, that approach has not been very successful – so maybe going a little easier on myself and accepting a few faults and shortcomings as ok will help me more. So, tomorrow I’m going to start the next round of 20 days – wearing my new running shoes.
2 Steps Forward, 3 Steps Back
No, no – I’m not singing that crappy Paula Abdul song made even crappier by a horrible video with an animated cat – I’m referring to my on-going, everlasting, never ending struggle with my weight. Except instead of “2 steps forward,3 steps back” it’s “lose 3 lbs, gain 5 lbs back.” Seriously – WTF? When this happens I have to move past the “I hate my fat loser-self” mantra and the “all those miles ran and calories counted for nothing” rant, and find a way to try, try again. Yeah, so Yoda may have said there is not “try” only “do, or do not” but, well, I seem to be in the “do not” category. Hmmm…what would the Jedi Master’s weight loss plan look like? He’s already got the personal trainer gig down pat, what with making Jedis-in-training run around swamps carrying him on their shoulders and raising space ships in the air using only their minds. So…the Jedi Diet – maybe I’m on to something here.
Mail My Check/Deposit My Mail
Yep, that’s what I almost did today. Wednesdays kinda suck right now, as I juggle three jobs and a three year old – so, between job #1 and #2 I was trying to run a few errands, and I guess my mental check-list tripped out – I barely caught myself before jamming my checks and deposit slips into the mailbox at the post office. Oh boy, that would have been brilliant: “Hey, Mr. Post Office Man…Woman with facial hair, could you, um, open the mailbox? I dropped my checks in, and um, yeah.” Thing is, I probably would not have realized it until I tried to stuff my mail into the deposit tube at the bank, and by then – who knows.
Ah well, crisis averted by my momentary slip back into sanity.
Small Discoveries
I love the little moments when my daughter, Aishtyn, realizes a truth about the world aound her. It is such a delight to see her use her powers of deduction to discover the way things work. Things that seem so simple and obvious to me are new and fascinating to her, and through her eyes – become interesting for me. What fun to get a chance to experience these discoveries with her. One such moment occurred this morning – Aishtyn has a lust for butter, the girl could eat it as a meal itself, but I insist the stuff be attached to some more substantial item of consumption. This morning it was a warm biscuit, and as she munched away, she said to me, “Mama – sometimes butter melts.” I said, yes, that’s right. Thinking for a moment as she chewed her biscuit, she continued, “But not in the ‘fridgerator’.” I agreed this was true, and asked her why, and she said, “Well, it’s freezing in there!” So we continued to discuss snow in the cold that melts when it gets warm, ice cream, etc. We’re going to do an experiment with ice cubes later today.
Moment of genius? Maybe not, but I sure was proud.
You must be logged in to post a comment.