i'm back from kansas.
aunt liz is home.
i've been frazzled and on the verge of tears since i got back home...and a little before. i have realized that i missed deadlines for school, and hilariously enough, i called school to catch up on things and one of the women in the office asked me what i was doing in kansas and - well - i completely broke down in tears, which i'm sure she loved and i kept babbling about how it wasn't sad or anything, but i just couldn't stop crying because of getting sick and being overwhelmed and all the rest of it...
so that was fun and i'm sure the respect for which they have of me is shooting skyward as i write.
and i just emailed a friend with what appeared to be a stream of consciousness that pretty much sums up the last few days:
"i'm just really stressed. i still have this lecture to plan for school, but i can't actually care about it and whenever i think about running through it i picture everyone staring at me and thinking i'm an idiot or somehow shooting holes in my theory or something. and cowboy's business is crazy blowing up, which is amazing, but he's so stressed about juggling all this work and i can't help because of school work, so it feels like i just sit at home all day. and i got a call from my temp lady and she said that at my last interview they really liked me and i was 'clearly intelligent and could handle the job,' but because of my email address - my gdvd email address - which they asked for my personal email address in the job interview and then googled it and saw the youtube video of the show and said that if i still had that email address, then i was clearly still interested in film. so, i did not get that job."
other than that, i'm doing really well...
Thursday, May 9, 2013
Friday, May 3, 2013
break
yesterday, she brought a vodka and diet coke in a tonic bottle and poured it into a glass of ice at lunch. at the end of lunch, she asked if i would spoon out the ice.
i happily did it to take my focus away from having to listen to a writer from florida inform us all that he'd read the first chapter of his novel to his writing group, and at the end of it, one of those listening stated in awe, "now that's literature." this man also appeared to have a small pillow stuffed down his pants.
we didn't go to the reading last night because it was sleeting - yes, sleeting. we got to the hotel for the evening dinner and i parked our little rental car (we now have a little rental car) on the corner and i ran in to see where the handicapped entrance was. apparently, this confused the hell out of all the employees and they directed me (as i soon found out) in the exact opposite direction.
i ran back to the car, in the icy rain, and got out the wheelchair from the back. the wind whipped my hair in my face and i couldn't see enough to get the leg supports attached, and then before i could lock it in place, it blew the wheelchair to the curb.
but i got it locked.
aunt liz got out of the car and we both froze. our hands froze and the wind burned our ears.
we went the direction i was told only to find a dead end alleyway.
luckily, heading back to the main door, a gentleman stopped and helped aunt liz walk up to the main door and another man helped me get the wheelchair in the building.
again, it's may.
we got to the table and i got liz a vodka tonic and things felt better.
the plan was to go from there to a reading, but luckily when we got back in the car, liz said it would be better to just go back to the hotel and i couldn't agree more.
she had a screwdriver and i had a bloody mary.
it's still cold and windy today, about 40 degrees, but at least there's no icy rain.
we have about an hour before aunt liz has another rehearsal and then a brief rest before a three-hour gala performance and dinner. i have no idea if either of us will make it through.
i happily did it to take my focus away from having to listen to a writer from florida inform us all that he'd read the first chapter of his novel to his writing group, and at the end of it, one of those listening stated in awe, "now that's literature." this man also appeared to have a small pillow stuffed down his pants.
we didn't go to the reading last night because it was sleeting - yes, sleeting. we got to the hotel for the evening dinner and i parked our little rental car (we now have a little rental car) on the corner and i ran in to see where the handicapped entrance was. apparently, this confused the hell out of all the employees and they directed me (as i soon found out) in the exact opposite direction.
i ran back to the car, in the icy rain, and got out the wheelchair from the back. the wind whipped my hair in my face and i couldn't see enough to get the leg supports attached, and then before i could lock it in place, it blew the wheelchair to the curb.
but i got it locked.
aunt liz got out of the car and we both froze. our hands froze and the wind burned our ears.
we went the direction i was told only to find a dead end alleyway.
luckily, heading back to the main door, a gentleman stopped and helped aunt liz walk up to the main door and another man helped me get the wheelchair in the building.
again, it's may.
we got to the table and i got liz a vodka tonic and things felt better.
the plan was to go from there to a reading, but luckily when we got back in the car, liz said it would be better to just go back to the hotel and i couldn't agree more.
she had a screwdriver and i had a bloody mary.
it's still cold and windy today, about 40 degrees, but at least there's no icy rain.
we have about an hour before aunt liz has another rehearsal and then a brief rest before a three-hour gala performance and dinner. i have no idea if either of us will make it through.
screwed
it is about thiirty nine degrees. aunt liz keeps asking to get screwed, which means she wants a screwdriver.
Thursday, May 2, 2013
cold
yesterday, i headed out about town in search of vodka and tonic (along with "that wonderful stuff i like so much...what is it?...yes, listeriiiiiiiine.) my goal was also to find two sunhats for us because it was 80 and bright and unreal how sunny it was.
i found the vodka and the listerine, but no hats or tonic.
then today happened.
it's 43 right now and getting down into the 30s and raining, so i headed out in search of something warm to wear. i walked to the grocery about two blocks away and got loaded up on tonic and bloody mary mix (for me) and lots of soup.
the most interesting thing about this entire place so far is that everyone adores - insanely adores - my aunt liz. everyone working at the hotel, anyone volunteering with the theatre festival...everyone. we go down a hallway and people stop and take her hand and tell her how wonderful she is and how they missed her last year. every man calls her dearest or darling. and everyone compliments her on some film or play they just absolutely love. and i spend a great deal of time standing off to the side while people gush about her.
last night we went to a small production of the play 'bus stop.' it was pretty good and there were some nice performances, but it wasn't life-changing by any means. but after the production, aunt liz and i waited in the lobby for our friend to drive us back to the hotel and she spoke to some of the performers to tell them what she thougth of the show.
and then a beefy woman with long, fried orange hair and a bright green dress and purple shoes approached us. it turned out she was the director of the production. aunt liz told her it was a great show and she should be so proud, and this woman did what every theatre person does - she stepped back, jaw agape, hand to the chest and shook her head slowly, "oh, you have no idea what that means to me." then she shoved her arm in aunt liz's face for her to see her goosebumps.
this morning, over breakfast, aunt liz said how strange and ridiculous it is the way people approach her and she feels like she's part of some 'act' about who she is and "that director - whooh - honey, i tell you...she was anything but cool...come on lady - lighten up..."
it's getting a bit more routine, but still tiring. i got an email yesterday that i am late in turning in an essay for school. it isn't that much of a big deal, but i didn't think this assignment applied to me for some reason, and so i just counsciously overlooked it - but no, i have to do it. so, in my spare time, of which i have none, i'm going to finish reading this book that continues to make me cry hysterically, and then turn in a paper.
i'm glad i came. it's both wonderful to be with her, but shocking at how fragile she's become. even when i've seen her in the past few years, someone else has been there to make sure she has what she needs - and i'm there to visit. but this is different. i know she loves this place and this theatre festival. she loves william inge and anything that gives her a chance to talk and think about her days on the stage.
i found the vodka and the listerine, but no hats or tonic.
then today happened.
it's 43 right now and getting down into the 30s and raining, so i headed out in search of something warm to wear. i walked to the grocery about two blocks away and got loaded up on tonic and bloody mary mix (for me) and lots of soup.
the most interesting thing about this entire place so far is that everyone adores - insanely adores - my aunt liz. everyone working at the hotel, anyone volunteering with the theatre festival...everyone. we go down a hallway and people stop and take her hand and tell her how wonderful she is and how they missed her last year. every man calls her dearest or darling. and everyone compliments her on some film or play they just absolutely love. and i spend a great deal of time standing off to the side while people gush about her.
last night we went to a small production of the play 'bus stop.' it was pretty good and there were some nice performances, but it wasn't life-changing by any means. but after the production, aunt liz and i waited in the lobby for our friend to drive us back to the hotel and she spoke to some of the performers to tell them what she thougth of the show.
and then a beefy woman with long, fried orange hair and a bright green dress and purple shoes approached us. it turned out she was the director of the production. aunt liz told her it was a great show and she should be so proud, and this woman did what every theatre person does - she stepped back, jaw agape, hand to the chest and shook her head slowly, "oh, you have no idea what that means to me." then she shoved her arm in aunt liz's face for her to see her goosebumps.
this morning, over breakfast, aunt liz said how strange and ridiculous it is the way people approach her and she feels like she's part of some 'act' about who she is and "that director - whooh - honey, i tell you...she was anything but cool...come on lady - lighten up..."
it's getting a bit more routine, but still tiring. i got an email yesterday that i am late in turning in an essay for school. it isn't that much of a big deal, but i didn't think this assignment applied to me for some reason, and so i just counsciously overlooked it - but no, i have to do it. so, in my spare time, of which i have none, i'm going to finish reading this book that continues to make me cry hysterically, and then turn in a paper.
i'm glad i came. it's both wonderful to be with her, but shocking at how fragile she's become. even when i've seen her in the past few years, someone else has been there to make sure she has what she needs - and i'm there to visit. but this is different. i know she loves this place and this theatre festival. she loves william inge and anything that gives her a chance to talk and think about her days on the stage.
Wednesday, May 1, 2013
back and forth
on monday, i had my second interview to be the staff accountant at a technology company. the job sounds interesting and like i could actually get a lot out of it. i like the company and the people who interviewed me. and then i rushed from there to my last night taking pictures of dogs (utterly boring).
yesterday morning, right before my flight, i got an email back from a screenplay competition that my script, if i made some minor changes, would be a finalist. so my heart raced and i sat confused because i finally was ready to have a normal job and income and stop daydreaming about being a writer and all of that and cowboy just kept saying, "i knew it...this is awesome." and we both know that this will lead to my questioning everything i've chosen to do with my career once again.
but then i had to stop thinking about that because i had to catch a flight to spend the week with my wonderful great aunt liz.
firstly, i flew to charlotte and then sat on the tarmac for an hour while they "cleared up the emergency" at newark. when it cleared (whatever it was), we took off and my sister came in from manhattan and we had dinner at the tony romas in the airport. then my aunt liz arrived. we found her a wheelchair to take her around the airport and were dropped again at tony romas.
my sister ordered wine.
my aunt liz asked for soup. they only had baked potato soup, which my sister promised would be really good. aunt liz also ordered a vodka tonic. when the food arrived, my aunt liz said to my sister, "you're right. this is thick." and then for the rest of the day referred to it as "that craaaaazy soup."
we had bloody mary's on the flight and then mr. porter (our porter) picked us up in tulsa and drove us to kansas. he's a retired pharmacist with a personality to match and i had to fight to keep from passing out in the van.
we arrived late. and tired. and "a little high...but in a good way," as my aunt said.
we have separate rooms, but aunt liz asked me to stay with her last night since it was so late and it was a new place, and i agreed without much thought.
while i found an old steven spielberg film on television, she took her time in the ladies room and unpacked and an hour and a half later she finally laid down. she tossed and turned and i don't think either of us got more than four hours of sleep.
we're meeting some friends for a luncheon soon and then my task for the day is to find some vodka, but without asking for vodka "so people don't think ill of us." my aunt said it's better to ask for a place to buy wine and to find "those little things i like so much. laura - what are they?"
"werther's."
"that's right. laura...you know everything."
i just checked on her in her room and she asked me to open a window for her. i did and she said, "laura, is there nothing you can't do?"
yesterday morning, right before my flight, i got an email back from a screenplay competition that my script, if i made some minor changes, would be a finalist. so my heart raced and i sat confused because i finally was ready to have a normal job and income and stop daydreaming about being a writer and all of that and cowboy just kept saying, "i knew it...this is awesome." and we both know that this will lead to my questioning everything i've chosen to do with my career once again.
but then i had to stop thinking about that because i had to catch a flight to spend the week with my wonderful great aunt liz.
firstly, i flew to charlotte and then sat on the tarmac for an hour while they "cleared up the emergency" at newark. when it cleared (whatever it was), we took off and my sister came in from manhattan and we had dinner at the tony romas in the airport. then my aunt liz arrived. we found her a wheelchair to take her around the airport and were dropped again at tony romas.
my sister ordered wine.
my aunt liz asked for soup. they only had baked potato soup, which my sister promised would be really good. aunt liz also ordered a vodka tonic. when the food arrived, my aunt liz said to my sister, "you're right. this is thick." and then for the rest of the day referred to it as "that craaaaazy soup."
we had bloody mary's on the flight and then mr. porter (our porter) picked us up in tulsa and drove us to kansas. he's a retired pharmacist with a personality to match and i had to fight to keep from passing out in the van.
we arrived late. and tired. and "a little high...but in a good way," as my aunt said.
we have separate rooms, but aunt liz asked me to stay with her last night since it was so late and it was a new place, and i agreed without much thought.
while i found an old steven spielberg film on television, she took her time in the ladies room and unpacked and an hour and a half later she finally laid down. she tossed and turned and i don't think either of us got more than four hours of sleep.
we're meeting some friends for a luncheon soon and then my task for the day is to find some vodka, but without asking for vodka "so people don't think ill of us." my aunt said it's better to ask for a place to buy wine and to find "those little things i like so much. laura - what are they?"
"werther's."
"that's right. laura...you know everything."
i just checked on her in her room and she asked me to open a window for her. i did and she said, "laura, is there nothing you can't do?"
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
