History and Kindness

In the past I have I have had non-theatre based jobs. In the future, I will have non-theatre based jobs. Oddly enough, the type of job I enjoy the most? Food services. As a child I had wanted to become a chef, and once I graduate from TheCollege, I will be attempting an assosciates in Food Service Management. My past jobs have been at a PretzelStore in the mall, and TheIceCreamJoint. Though these establishments were not "fast food", per se, they were not restaurants either. So, I count them as fast food. Or perhaps a new label, that I shall call Convenient Specialtey Dining Experience Locations. Anyway, I enjoy working at these establishments. There is something satisfying about rushing at top speed to make 40 double cheeseburgers, or twirling at my fasted to get 36 pretzels in the oven in the middle of chaos. I enjoy looking at a product I have made and thinking that someone is going to enjoy eating this food item as much as I enjoyed making it for them.

This thinking, of course, is absolute bullshit. People always whine, looking for a freebie or trying to make themselves feel bigger and better by trying to make me feel like shit. However, I am proud of my food service capabilities. Sure, a fuck up is inevitable on occasion, like the time I forgot to put chicken strips in a kids' meal. In such instances, I can understand why people would give me shit. The fact that the dad handled the situation cooly and politely amazes me to this day. People are always bitching about something. My pretzel is too salty, there aren't enough sprinkles on this cone (though how one can put more sprinkles on a completely covered cone is beyond me, they only stick so much). However, I am pretty sure one of the reasons I enjoy food service is not the asshole customers, it is the really nice onces. The assholes are par for the course, smaller forms of evil. When you hear about murder, rape, and war in the news everyday, some jerk complaining that there is too much chocolate in his FatFuckSundae (a combination of TheIceCreamJoint's most chocolatey items, including fudge, brownies, chocolate chips, etc) doesn't come as much of a surprise. It is the NICE customers that I work for, the ones who restore my faith in humanity.

For example, one of the nastiest days I can recall. I am experiencing what the waitering blogs call "in the weeds". I am working the drive through. Cars are wrapping around the building, the sun is setting. For some reason, when the sun sets such rushes only get worse. Some asshole cannot understand that many items on our menu are TAXED. This means a small cone, listed for $1.29 on the menu, comes out to $1.37. He is arguing with me over the fact, which cheeses me off because I cannot control the tax that is added on to the items. Some coworkers add a few more cents on to the order, an 'idiot tax', but I am above such things, and usually the asshole in people only appears after I give them the total, too late to change it anyway. But I am an ethical worker. The worse I have ever done to food is skimp. We make items like blizzards/mcflurries/whatever. The things where you throw toppings in to a blender thing with ice cream and charge ridiculous amounts of money for it. Usually, an item like an Oreo thingy gets two scoops of oreos. Jerks like this only get one. Nice people can get anywhere up to four if the managers aren't watching and I really like you.

But I digress, as usual. So, I have a jerk is arguing over tax. The guy in front of him kept mentally changing his order and complained when we 'got it wrong'. This brings to mind "If we could read minds, we wouldn't need headsets"(-unknown Techie). Seriously, if you wanted to change your order, TELL US. Don't think we'll just know, yes, even if you are a regular. The woman in front of HIM had a vanload of screaming children and a dog. Dogs are annoying because they are always riding in their owners lap, eagerly knocking products out of our hands. All in all, the day absolutely sucks. Tax guy drives off, and the line adjusts accordingly. The lady now about to pay is frantically waving her hand at the window as if she will die if I cannot get her ice cream within the next 4 seconds. She gets collected, the next person just drives straight off. That's awesome. I love when they decide they no longer want their food, because our nice neat line of what car gets what is now fucked. Its a number system. If you're 12, the guy behind you is 13, and he drives off, I am now likely to give 14 the total and perhaps the order that was intended for 13, which makes me seem like a douchebag. The headset beeps, telling me I had better answer and take the next car's order or it will continue to beep. That's more annoying than the customers. I take the order, the guy seems polite and patient. His in-line number is 102. The line progresses until it's his turn. I ring up his total, he has the money at the ready, instead of lying on the floor of his car. He hands me the cash, I hand him change, and begin handing him his order. As he takes his items, he gives me a calm and friendly smile, making eye contact and saying "Have a Nice Day" before driving off. For some reason, his kind words were like a hammer to the head. Something just clicked and said "yes, this is a shitty rush, but soon it'll be over, and you'll get to steal some fries from the grill. Then you'll go home and not have to deal with this, so why let it get you so upset?" After that, I really did have a nice day. He's the guy I always remember when I'm feeling harassed and abused by customers, a small light in the middle of the tunnel, not the end. The kind of customer that keeps me going, and helps me to be the kind of customer other servers appreciate.

Truer Words

Here are several quotes from theatre folk better, at least bigger, than I. We have to collect them for my APO Induction TONIGHT! *glee* and I wanted to share them.

Acting is merely the art of keeping a large group from coughing
-Alan Rickman

Drama is life with the dull bits cut out
-Alfred Hitchcok

Theatre is like a virus, once you get it you can't get rid of it.
-Robin Boisseau

The novel is more of a whipser, wheras the stage is a shout
-Rober Holman

If you cried a little less, the audience would cry more
-Edith Evans

The sole aim of the arts of scene designing, costuming, lighting, is to enhace the natural powers of the actors
-Robert Edmond Jones

All the world's a stage, some of us just have better seats.
-Anon

Coughing in the theatre is not a resporatory ailment. It is criticism.
-Harry Hopkins

The most important thing in acting is honest. If you can fake that, you've got it made.
-George Burns

Part to God and say the lines.
-Bette Davis

Actors are the only honest hippocrits.
-Will Hazlett

If we could read minds, we wouldn't need headsets.
-Unknown Techie

We've put a man on the moon. If you miss a cue, no one will die.
-Stella Adler

The play was a great success, but the audience was a disaster.

-Oscar Wilde

Art?

Back to Crap

Well, my Easter break went well; although mostly uneventful. Oddly, when first encountering someone over the break, nearly every acquaintance of mine remarked "So you're out of school for summer then?" This question both intrigued and bothered me to varying degrees. Most of my friends are college students themselves, know college students, or are generally aware of the Easter Break. Although my class schedule allowed me much for time off than most students, it seemed odd that they all made the same comments. Yes, I had the week off. Well, I had every day off save one, but there is no way I was going to waste 30 dollars worth of gas to come back for one day of school. Time and Resource management, really. But I am baffled as to why my neighbors, friends, even random folk I had not seen in years, would all ask the same question. It is true that the local college ends it semester a week before every other college, but that school still does not get out for three weeks. Fuck it, I will accept this as one of life's mysteries and move on.

As it stands, I am back in my boring apartment. Approximately 15 by 30 feet in dimension, I can safely say this is the must dull space I have have ever occupied. I have tried livening the space up; with various posters, art prints, paintings, and random shit. Actually, I am amazed that the plastic, paper-stuffed ghosts have hung above my bed for as long as they have. Nearly every other item on my walls has fallen off at some point or another, but the ghosts have stood their ground.

The following week is going to be positive melee. In addition to finishing my Theatre Thesis, a long and drawn out battle of wits, motivation, and bullshit, I am in the process of joining my school's theatre honor society (read: frat) and it has been an interesting quest. While other generations of pledges have had to endure interesting trials, focusing solely on the mental rather than physical, my group has yet to do shit. The worst was sitting in the stairwell for a half hour without speaking before being introduced to the current members and getting silly little pins we must have on our person until induction, which occurs this Friday. Although I am certainly not complaining, I must wonder if I have merely missed a meeting or some such and will be fucked over because of it. The theatre society has been a thorn in my side since Freshmen year. Almost immediately after becoming a major, one is told the requirements to join: Acting in a show, doing technical work for a show, a 3.25 QPA, and a certain number of points. The points are based on the types of jobs performed and are ultra-mega-not-so secret. I know most of the point system through clever conversations where members have told me more than they thought they had. What can I say? I'm observant. There is some lint on your shoulder, by the way.

But I digress. Joining the honor society has been a coveted goal of mine. For four years I have seen my acting brethen join the society's ranks, while I, the only technical theatre concentration at the college, was passed over time and again. Although I am not prone to feeling left-out, I am very much a feminist, an oppositionist, and a pain in the ass. If you tell me I cannot do something, not only will I do it, but I will often do it better than you. It's how I am, really. So after four years, I have been invited to the society. I am joining, not because I feel it will boost my number of friends (I know the members quite dearly already). I am not joining because I want the supposed advantage and mark on my resume. I am doing it because so help me God, no one thought I could. It has often made me feel left out, seeing my friends noted for being in a lousy frat when I often did the same amount of the work. It pissed me off, hearing that the last non-acting concentration to make it through was in 2001 and did not get in until six weeks before graduation. So why do I want in to a snooty frat that seems to be stacked against technicians/stage managers? Because throughout my life, people have found a reason to exclude me. I'm a girl. I don't wear the right clothes. I swear to much. I'm too smart. I don't do drugs. Well fuck that. This time, I have played by the rules and upheld my personal code of honor and conduct, and after four years they cannot find another reason to exclude me.

Joining the frat is not selling out, I will not be in it long enough to feel any sense of peer pressure, I will not have to do any stupid fundraisers or help set up a banquet. Pretty much, I will be a member long enough to have the title without the responsibilities. That's cool in my book. This is a personal victory, and I hope it tastes like shit in the mouths of my detractors when for once, I am judged by others to be what I know that I am- an equal.

Well, howdy. I'm The Dame, an appropriately pretentious yet enigmatic name for a blogger, I suppose. I have started a blog for several reasons, none that are really interesting. Wait wait, I think I'm supposed to act like everything I write is literature gold and that you fully and completely care about what I am saying. Well, if you do care and I am writing literature gold, that's awesome. If not, maybe you'll stick around to see if my writing skills and interesting-post-ratio improves. Who the hell knows. Whatever happens, I'm cool. Let me tell you about myself, and then you can do whatever you please.

I'm sort of at a standing point in my life. In a month I will graduate from college with a BA in theatre; a major chosen not only because of the accompanying full scholarship . I am a techie. I do not act, at least not often enough to consider myself an actress. I do not do production work enough to consider myself a producer, stage manager, whatever. I do not dance, at least not on stage. I am a technician. I build stuff, I break stuff. These two things are activities I mightily enjoy. I do all sorts of tech work. Carpentry, lighting, props, costuming, run crew, overhire. I prefer the carpentry stuff, but am proficient at the others. Plus, the people and shit I have to deal with on a daily basis are sometimes sensational. When I don't have current affairs to post, I'll probably delve in past tales of the perverted, the amusing, and the insane. It will probably happen often.

I am 22 years old at the present, and have a twin sister. We look similar with the right clothing, hair styling, and accessories (or lack thereof). We share many common interests, but for the big stuff we are different. I'm art, she's science. I'm punk rock, she's indy. I'm a hamburger with fries, she's a salad and grilled chicken. I think that delivers the point nicely. I'll post later about some of the annoying and mind-numbing shit that people ask us as soon as they realize that "OMG there's two of you!" We both kick ass, but I would probably lose if we got in a fight.

My older brother is serving in the National Guard and is currently in Iraq. He will be home soon, and that makes me happy. He's this charming laid back sort of fella who is usually smiling or making other people smile. He likes cars and spending money, which are never good habits. Of course, he would consider most of the things I do as bad habits as well, so we've both agreed to disagree. He could kick anyone's ass in a fight.

I am currently dating TheGreaser (this is how I'm going to title people, by the way. "The---". What is the point of the internet if not for maintaining anonymity?). TheGreaser is tall, skinny, and awesome. He's sexy in that sinewy kind of way. Good sense of humor, great taste in music, and he puts up with my eccentricities. What more could a gal ask for? He is generally cynical and bitter, but can be sweet as hell, at least to me. He drums for a psychobilly trio, and I love their music as much as I love him. He wouldn't get in a fight, he'd just shoot you.

Personality wise, I am pretty easy going. It takes a lot to piss me off. However, it takes very little for me to offend others. Actually, it usually requires a conscious effort for me to NOT offend someone. I suppose it is because I have dirty dirty mind and am apt to make anything in to a sexual reference. Oh, and I use words like "cunt" in daily conversation. Whatever, deal with it. I am friendly and try to be well liked, although if being well like is not possible, I take my own advice and deal with it. I treat people with respect, regardless of amiability. God forbid you treat others how you would like to be treated in this age.

Here's a list of addictions.
-The Internet
-Cigarettes
-Caffeine
-Sugar
-Books

Also, fair warning- I am easily distracted, often off-topic, and easily amused. A lot of the things that excite me will probably get a "so fucking what?" from you, the readers. I don't care.

This introduction has gone on long enough, so I'm done. That's right, shoo. You're welcome to come back later, I'd love it if you would. But for now, take it on the arches.