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There’s something about Sunday night
that really makes you want to kill yourself
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Monday, February 07, 2005

Sunday

I woke up in time to go to one of Tim's staged readings that was part of the Southern Writer's Project. His part was a 27-year-old brother of the main character. He was extremely sensitive. The whole play was a beautifully written piece of magical realism. I loved it. Afterwards the playwright and the dramaturgist did a Q&A. Whenever I'm around theatre buffs, I feel like such an idiot. Folks were spouting off stuff like "The dichotomy of illusory plot and the physical presence of . . ." Oh shut the hell up. Theatre for me boils down to: "I liked it," "I was bored," etc. And one theatre bitch was talking about how she didn't buy x, y, or z about the plot. I hate it when people dismiss magical realism because they aren't able to stretch their imagination around it, and so they call it "unbelievable." I felt so bad for the playwright, because it was seriously the most well-written play I've heard in a long time. I even cried a little at the end. And plays? Don't make me cry.

Then Tim had the afternoon off, and the day was gorgeous--60 degrees and sunny. We threw open the windows, let the cats frolic on the balcony, and flung ourselves into the heady joy of setting up the drum kit! One of the boxes that the equipment came in was badly torn up when we received it, so the tension rods and support legs for the bass drum were missing. But we were able to put everything else up. With the mutes on everything, it's not that noisy at all. I spent a while tapping out the only beat I know. I have a tendancy to speed, so I got out the annoying metronome to keep my beat. It's an easy pattern. Hit the high hat on 1, 2, 3, 4; the bass on 1, and the snare on 3. I thought I'd get bored quickly, then frustrated because I didn't know any other patterns, but, oddly, it's fairly entrancing to spend a while on the beat. And since I have to focus otherwise I lose it, and start hitting on the off-beat, or my foot misses the pedal, I need lots of practice. I'm going to keep working until my mind can wander and still hold the rhythm.

And we watched more Buffy. We're up to Season 3. We're addicted. We were going to watch The Gift, but NetFlix has been sucking lately and the DVD was thoroughly cracked.

After, we found some coupons for a steak place and spent half an hour talking ourselves into going out to eat (something we probably shouldn't do for a while). But we're bad at monitoring ourselves, and since we shared a steak, and ended up spending $45 less than the last time we went there? Not so bad. While we were in there, we listened to their piped-in, cheesy country music, and patted out the drum beats on the table. Obsessed, who?

And the Superbowl, of course, which was on in the background. All in all, a perfect day. It was such a treat to get to spend it all with Tim, who ordinarily has to spend most of Sundays in class or rehearsal.

It was good to store up calm peaceful times, because today I found out someone I know was shot in the stomach. By her husband, I assumed initially, but it was more upsetting to later find out that it might have been self-inflicted. Should get to the bottom of this.

2 Comments:

Blogger angiepants said...

Oh my god, Ellie. Her husband shot her??? Is she ok?

8:38 PM  
Blogger LE said...

She's in Intensive Care right now. Or, as of Monday morning. I have no idea how she's doing, but I do know the stomach is about the worst place to get shot.

I assumed her husband shot her, but her lawyer called me and said that it was self-inflicted. She thinks it was a suicide attempt, but I don't believe it. I think they were tussling with the gun and it went off. Though it did go off 3 times.

6:29 AM  

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