Thursday, August 28, 2008

Heye Chazak Vetitgaber

I'm kind of having a nervous breakdown. Here are some tidbits from the inside.

I kind of really kind of a little bit want this.

I have not yet started packing for my 4-day weekend dance camp 3,000 miles away, and I am going straight to the airport from work tomorrow. Oh, ha, it's not tomorrow anymore; it's today. Yay me.

It really annoys me that the pilot light on my stove goes out like every 5 minutes. Certainly every time I use the stove, which we all know is not very often (screw you) but it does happen. Like tonight, to boil water to make hot chocolate. That's cooking, right? So what annoys me most is that after I turn off the burner I'm using, I'm tempted to re-light the pilot light at that moment so I won't forget until two days later when my whole house smells like gas. BUT I'VE JUST BEEN USING THE BURNER, SO IT'S HOT. DON'T PICK IT UP TO MOVE IT OUT OF THE WAY TO GET TO THE PILOT LIGHT OR YOU MIGHT BURN YOURSELF. That didn't happen tonight, thanks. But it did happen once. (Apparently, I am still able to learn things.)

It's a good thing I don't do drugs. When I get wacked-out-stressed-out (like right now), I like to go on little self-destructive binges. No, really. The good news (I guess) is that I don't really have any real destructive materials at hand, so a binge for me consists of doing things like *watching four episodes of WEEDS instead of packing* and *eating microwave popcorn AND sugar-free jello AND fat-free yogurt instead of just one of those things*. I might, might, might, have a beer. But not always.


I really really REALLY need to buy a new sound system, like, right now. Really, like two weeks ago, but my wayback machine isn't working so I'll settle for getting one before Monday. Too bad I go out of town tomorrow and don't get back to L.A. until Monday morning. I need sound advice. On sound. Advice on sound. Sound advice on sound. Get it? Yeah. So, think portable PA system (not Pennsylvania, you dope, public address). I currently have this and I'm trying to decide between something like the Fender Passport, the Peavey Messenger, the Yamaha Stagepass 300, or the JBL Eon System10. I need it to be light enough and small enough that I can carry it up the stairs to my apartment; I need it to be strong enough to play music for a room of 100 dancers for four hours straight every week; I need it to not cost more than I can afford. Do I want powered speakers so I have more power? Or do I just want a powered amp because a) that'll give me more flexibility in speaker positioning, not having to worry about outlets everywhere and b) I already freaking bought 150 feet of speaker cable that carries a charge because my current speakers are not powered.

By watching a few more episodes of WEEDS, clearly, and maybe eating (gasp) a granola bar.

Monday, August 25, 2008

So Owl wrote . . . and this is what he wrote:


Pooh looked on admiringly.

"I'm just saying 'A Happy Birthday'," said Owl

"It's a nice long one," said Pooh, very much impressed
by it.

"Well, actually, of course, I'm saying 'A Very Happy
Birthday with love from Pooh.' Naturally it takes a good deal
of pencil to say a long thing like that."

"Oh, I see," said Pooh.

I love you, Alexis.

Friday, August 22, 2008

Things We Might Have Done

Home from camp, summer's over, depression sets in.
And so, a report:

Things I Did:

Hike to Nipple Rock at 5:30am
Hike somewhere else at 5:30am another time
Go for a scary but fantastic horseback ride
Walk 2+ miles each way to Coldstone's
Bike 2+ miles each way to Coldstone's
See Mamma Mia, Wall-e, and Dark Knight
Improve my Hebrew. A lot.
Go to Vegas and 600 other touristy LA things, on breaks
Jog the High Road a few times
Receive lots of fabulous notes and cards and letters and packages from my amazing friends.

Things I Didn't:
Make anything in the art room
Climb the Alpine Tower again or the Wall for the first time
Get into the batting cage or play other random sports
Jog the High Road more than a few times
Sleep, much
Send lots of fabulous notes and cards and letters and packages TO my amazing friends.

And since that accounting is not really so illuminating for you and was more for my own personal use, here's a little something for you... the long-awaited, eagerly-anticipated, critically-acclaimed Princess Story.

So, every session at camp we have a "Camp Mom", a woman who comes and stays at camp, usually with her family, to do the specific job of giving hugs to campers who need them. She also answers calls from parents asking about their kids, she deals with all problems of homesickness, she even, if she's good, bakes the essential Staff Snack on Thursday nights, so she is beloved not just by the campers but by everyone in a 3,000-acre radius.

First session this summer one of the camp moms was a woman who has done the job before and who is a very lovely lady. She has an Israeli firefighter husband and two unbelievably cute kids - one an insanely mischievous and rambunctious 3-year-old boy and the other a little girl of the so-cute-you-kind-of-want-to-eat-them variety. The girl is older, maybe 6 or 7 years old. She says to her mom one day, in their room, "Mommy, I think you should wear your hair curly."

"Why?", asks her mom.

"You know, don't straighten it, make it all curly."

"Ok," says her mom, trying to figure out where this is coming from. "Why do you think I should do that?"

"Then you could be on the microphone and dance around a lot."

"What??" says Mom, now utterly baffled, since this is completely out of context.

"Well, you know that girl with really curly hair who is on the microphone all the time and dances around a lot and IS A PRINCESS? Well, if you wear your hair curly, maybe you could be like her."

OH. MY. GOD. This UNDENIABLY ADORABLE child has summed up my looks and my job at camp by calling me that girl with really curly hair who is on the microphone all the time and dances around a lot and IS A PRINCESS.

I am in love.