Archive for January, 2007


Swearing Off TV

January 26, 2007

I have decided that for the next month I shall not watch any TV. This decision was a long time coming, but was prompted by the following exchange on IRC:

<Cae> which drug does Bob take?
<darth_mall> cyanide
<Cae> ie, Bob with the extra spring in his step
ever since taking some male enhancement product
<darth_mall> Cyalis
oh dear god
<Cae> lol

For the record, I was wrong; it’s Enzyte, according to mothoc. However, the quickness with which Cyalis came to mind when I saw “male enhancement product” still unnerves me. There is no doubt in my mind that that was conditioned from all the sex drug ads on the TV. So from now until March 1 (that’s a little over a month, but whatever) no more live TV for me. Commercial-free programs on DVD or from the internet are fine, but no TV. It’s not as though TV is really enhancing my First Life experience anyway.


That Screaching Sound You Hear Is Me

January 23, 2007

That’s right, guys and dolls, I’m going to learning to play the fiddle. I called Jessie tonight and set up my first lesson: Thursday at 11:00 AM. I’m really looking forward to it.

I also called John this afternoon about starting some guitar lessons, but he wasn’t there. Still waiting on him to call be back.

Making noise is fun.


The Onion Cellar

January 12, 2007

Nothing could have prepared me for this play… Nothing. It was quite possibly the most amazing experience of my life to date. More than anything I want to describe the experience to share it with anyone reading this and to be able to relive it myself. But I can’t find the words. I could never hope to describe the events of the play in a form that would do them justice, let alone the feelings it evoked in me. I was moved beyond words.

The play was touching and funny, the characters were very real; I very nearly cried on more than one occasion (which is somewhat ironic given some of the subject matter in the play, perhaps I should have just let myself go). I found a great deal of comfort watching the characters’s problems unfold and realizing that everyone has problems, and that mine are no less significant because they aren’t the same problems other people have. At one point during the play they passed out slips of paper with a question written on it: “When was the last time you cried and what made you cry?” or something to that effect. We were to write our answers on it and hold it up collection. I’m not sure why they did this, but I can tell you the effect that it had on me. It made me realize how very long it’s been since the last time I cried, it made me wonder why it had been so long, and it made me realize the significance of that event. Though it had crossed my mind since it happened, I had not truly thought about it in a long time. And I know, if anyone is actually reading this, that you will want to know what I wrote. Alas, I don’t believe in airing my dirty laundry on the internet, and since this isn’t livejournal I’m not going to get all angsty and depressed about these things. It was a relief to be reminded tonight, it did not depress me.

The end of the play found the whole cast sitting on stage engaged in a cacophany of monologues while the Dresden Dolls performed “Sing” (most of the music was from their previous albums). At the end of the song, when Amanda is singing “aaah aaah aaaaaah,” the audience stood up and sang along with her. It was one of the most powerful things I have ever experienced. I feel truly blessed for being given the opportunity to see the play. At the end I stuck around outside and got the opportunity to thank many of the cast members for the performance, and I got their autographs too. I wish I could have gotten the entire cast, but either I missed them, or they didn’t come out. Once again, Brian’s autograph has eluded me.

It was a fantastic experience. I shudder to think that I might have missed it. My only regret is that I shan’t ever see it again. I wish I could have seen it more than once to try and assimilate more of it. But even then, no two performances would have been the same. But that’s the magic of live theatre, I suppose: it’s never the same twice and it’s only around for a limited time; that’s what makes it so special.

I feel that I am close to rambling now, so I will close this post. I wish that I could continue to remember the events of this evening in crystal clarity for the rest of my life, but I know that that can’t happen. I can only hope that I will at least remember the feeling that I feel right now, and felt during the show, even though I won’t remember the details of what made me feel this way.

Thank you, cast and crew of The Onion Cellar.