Today I made this curry with a turnip. It only calls for half a turnip, though, so I didn't really know what to do with the other half of the turnip. I cut it up and put it in a salad. We'll see how that goes, they are like a sweeter kind of potato. 

The recipe is here.

Wacky List

I do not like the line in the play where the protagonist lists all the clever characters and circumstances that the playwright has concocted to befall him. (In case you missed it, folks!)

BEAUREGARD: Why are you freakin' out, man?

CLETIS: Why am I freaking out? I'll tell you why I'm freaking out! My neurotic mother who is dressed like a pig is waiting for me at an A&P in Appalacia, and I can't get there because my arranged Iranian bride has stolen my car to go to the taxidermist! That's why I'm freaking out!

I don't like it even more when the list is full of cultural reference points.

BEAUREGARD: Why are you freakin' out, man?

CLETIS: Why am I freaking out? I'll tell you why I'm freaking out! My Paris Hilton wannabe mother is waiting for me at a Hooters in Waco, and I can't get there because my match.com bride has stolen my Mini Cooper to go to NASCAR! That's why I'm freaking out!

Penuins are hiding someting

...It's knees.

Week 1- St. Augustine's Dilemma

This week is the week that the official curriculum calls...something, and I call "St. Augustine's Dilemma."

I call it that because I spend the week focusing on this quotation that I read somewhere and attributed to St. Augustine.

"I do not understand my own nature. Why do I do the things that I know I should not and fail to do the things which I know I should?"

I read it again a little while ago, and it turns out it was actually St. Paul.

But it's totally something that Augustine would have said.

Also, now that I think of it, this question isn't what we could accurately call a dilemma.

I unhelpfully to my students, and helpfully to myself believe that English language instruction, like English itself, is mostly about the spirit of intention. So that's fine.

I like to consider this question with my students because I want to know the answer. Roughly 45% of the monkeys in my mind are currently conducting research into this inquiry. Because I think that if we could crack it, I could solve all of my problems.

Every time I think I've got the answer, though, I don't. Or it's not practically applicable and therefore not satisfying.

If you know, please tell me. Until then, I'll keep asking these ESL students.

John's Poop Story

Amateur

The glowing review that we got for Pardon My Invasion referred to us as amateurs, which hurt some feelings in the cast. I can understand why they're insulted by what might be a misnomer in intention, but in my case it is totally accurate.

I am such an amateur.

The word comes from the same root as "amour" and it meant, originally "lover of" and then somehow evolved to designate someone who is not "professional."

Etymologically, the opposite of pursuing something as your career is loving it.

I'm happy that the designation exists. Theatre isn't my job. My job is that other thing I do. The one where occasionally I have to cry in the stairwell eating tiny snickers bars because I'm powerless before and meaningless to the people who sign my paychecks. I'm not a lover of it.

Precisely because theatre is not my *job,* I don't ever have to feel so small and powerless when I do it. I work in the expansive terms of a glorious amateur.

I reject the notion that getting paid to do something is what makes it real, or what makes you a real practitioner of it. It's fully possible to make a financially stable career of loveless crap. Probably much more possible.

And what's the real insult? You're not "professional," meaning that it's not your source of income, or there's no passion in it?

"Fadeout"

Dear People Whose Scripts I Am Reading,

There is no "fade to" in theatre. When you are writing a play, you can't write "fade to..." or "fadeout."

Thank you.