tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-75196402024-03-08T11:21:37.010-08:00Life RebootedA fresh chance at the life that should have been.Anne Barlowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01959157617759510256noreply@blogger.comBlogger277125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7519640.post-86175212327425068932008-06-26T20:09:00.001-07:002008-06-26T20:09:30.523-07:00Doctor Horrible<object height="225" width="400"> <param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"> <param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"> <param name="movie" value="http://www.vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=1227202&server=www.vimeo.com&show_title=1&show_byline=1&show_portrait=0&color=&fullscreen=1"> <embed src="http://www.vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=1227202&server=www.vimeo.com&show_title=1&show_byline=1&show_portrait=0&color=&fullscreen=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" height="225" width="400"></object><br /><a href="http://www.vimeo.com/1227202?pg=embed&sec=1227202">Teaser</a> from <a href="http://www.vimeo.com/drhorrible?pg=embed&sec=1227202">Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog</a> on <a href="http://vimeo.com?pg=embed&sec=1227202">Vimeo</a>.<br /><br />Full of awesome<div class="flockcredit" style="text-align: right; color: #CCC; font-size: x-small;">Blogged with the <a href="http://www.flock.com/blogged-with-flock" style="color: #999; font-weight: bold;" target="_new" title="Flock Browser">Flock Browser</a></div>Anne Barlowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01959157617759510256noreply@blogger.com37tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7519640.post-68276207470398106802007-12-19T21:06:00.001-08:002007-12-19T21:06:35.212-08:00Stairway<object height="350" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/3WfoccRna6I&l=160&t=OEgsToPDskLtSGLa9yGRoNYLzzeCo1ni&sk=vpdeNMwZcXJZXk2lQUdW8AC&sourceid=r"><param name="wmode" value="transparent"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/3WfoccRna6I&l=160&t=OEgsToPDskLtSGLa9yGRoNYLzzeCo1ni&sk=vpdeNMwZcXJZXk2lQUdW8AC&sourceid=r" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="350" width="425"></object><p class="citation"><cite cite="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3WfoccRna6I"><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3WfoccRna6I">I just wanted to try posting from a new browser - Flock.<br /></a></cite></p><p class="citation"><cite cite="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3WfoccRna6I"><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3WfoccRna6I"><br /></a></cite></p><p class="citation"><cite cite="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3WfoccRna6I"><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3WfoccRna6I"><br /></a></cite></p><p style="text-align: right; font-size: 8px">Blogged with <a href="http://www.flock.com/blogged-with-flock" title="Flock" target="_new">Flock</a></p>Anne Barlowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01959157617759510256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7519640.post-90151816541853111072007-11-29T08:59:00.001-08:002007-11-29T08:59:11.567-08:00Wonder Wanderer<div>When you are young, you are bombarded with new experiences. Do you remember your first play? Your first symphony? The first time you went to an art museum?</div> <div> </div> <div>When you are young and haven't been tainted by the world, experiences can be full of wonder and undiluted enjoyment. You can be whicked away and caught up in the sensations of the moment.</div> <div> </div> <div>And that is a good thing.</div> <div> </div> <div>I am a musician, I think that is one of my defining attributes. I pursued the study of music aggressively. Classes in composition, history, conducting, theory filled my days for many years.</div> <div> </div> <div>And as a result, my musical world changed. The sense of enjoyment was still there but now there was knowledge behind my experience. A little voice started telling me "Oooh, that's a hard part. That took skill. See how the phrases balance. Wow, the tone that soloist is producing is incredible!". The voice is almost impossible to turn off. Did I enjoy the music any less? I would say no. But my <em>appreciation</em> of the music deepened.</div> <div> </div> <div>I have dabbled in acting. Even at the superficial level that I attained, my experience of the dramatic world changed. I gained more of an <em>appreciation</em> for the art.</div> <div> </div> <div>I've taken to sculpture lately. Can you guess what happened?</div> <div> </div> <div>A good artist can make you forget the process. A good one can whisk you away and let you experience the wonder again.</div> <div> </div> <div>It is easy to miss that initial sense of wonder that you get when you experience something for the first time. Maybe that is why we need to seek out new things and new experiences. Maybe that is why we need to seek out better and better artists. </div> <div> </div> <div>Maybe that is why we should do everything we can to support the arts.</div> Anne Barlowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01959157617759510256noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7519640.post-70738170543836891462007-11-28T09:49:00.001-08:002007-11-28T09:49:07.146-08:00Lift that Barge! Tote that Bale! (from the knees!)<div>I'm finding that I am a ball of tension this holiday season. My back has been tweaking the last few weeks and it is really getting annoying. Each morning, I wake up at 4AM with pain near the center of my spine. It feels like if I could just crack my back then everything would be fine. Sigh. </div> <div> </div> <div>So, why all the tension? I blame the season...<strong>Hah! Bumhug</strong>!</div> <div> </div> <div>Actually, I like the season just fine. I am just stressing about what to get people, the amount of times I am flying home and the disturbing conversion of my signature holiday dishes turning directly into fat.</div> <div> </div> <div>Then there is the self-imposed stress. I have a dozen little projects that I have imposed on myself and it looks like I'll miss my deadline. You'd think that if I was the one holding myself up to the deadline, then I would be able to shift the deadline to a more reasonable time. </div> <div> </div> <div>Apparently, I am a stubborn wench of a taskmaster.</div> Anne Barlowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01959157617759510256noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7519640.post-88550525009067083122007-11-04T08:08:00.000-08:002007-11-04T08:19:48.121-08:00What I did on my Summer Vacation - An EssayIt's a stereotype (legend?) that when youngsters go back to school after Summer vacation, the teacher always assigns the essay entitled "What I did on my Summer Vacation". I think the teacher was actually being sneaky. <br /><br />First, it's a great initial lesson plan, a gimme. When you start your lesson plans for the year, it is probably a great way to bust writers block. Also, I think these plans are passed on year to year so it becomes ingrained in tradition.<br /><br />Second, all the kids (who did something more than just watch TV for the Summer) want to tell their friends about what they did. When you get back to school, you may see some friends that you haven't seen for awhile. There is a lot of chatter in class until all the greetings and storytelling is done. This essay circumvents much of that discussion.<br /><br />I've essentially been gone a year so I probably owe more than an short essay, right?<br /><br />Nah, here's a list. Essays to follow.<br /><br />Took some classes on something completely new.<br />Took some classes on something that I've been working on awhile.<br />Became a Mac geek.<br />Dealt with some serious illness in my family.<br />Altered the 'World Domination' bullet in my 5 year plan to 'World Influence'.<br /><br />More to follow...Anne Barlowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01959157617759510256noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7519640.post-83803319919674384752007-10-29T09:25:00.001-07:002007-10-29T09:45:04.191-07:00If a blogpost falls in the woods and there is no one there...Seriously, if I wrote a little here (I know it's been a while).<br /><br />Is anyone going to read it?Anne Barlowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01959157617759510256noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7519640.post-8721432542562511652007-02-21T16:36:00.000-08:002007-02-21T16:37:39.642-08:00Where???You've heard me say it before. My college mentor told me (often):<br /><br />"Music is what happens between the notes."<br /><br />I've been trying to build a playlist.Anne Barlowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01959157617759510256noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7519640.post-1167756806595022802007-01-02T08:53:00.000-08:002007-01-02T08:53:26.710-08:00Trust the Bed - My Holiday Analogy<div>I stayed at my parents house for Christmas this year. The house they live in was not my childhood home so I no longer have a dedicated room. This year I was to stay in the downstairs room on a daybed they just purchased. It's a new bed, decent mattress. It creaks a bit and the mattress tends to slip off the edge of the frame a few times during the night. </div> <div> </div> <div>I never stayed on it before.</div> <div> </div> <div>The relative rickety-ness of the bed left me a little tense. <em>All night I was poised to catch myself were the bed to collapse. I moved cautiously, never quite falling into a deep sleep.</em></div> <div> </div> <div>The first night I really didn't get much rest.</div> <div> </div> <div>The second night was much the same.</div> <div> </div> <div>By the third night I realized I was being ridiculous. If the bed fell I would get hurt whether or not I was fast asleep. So I made a decision to '<strong>trust the bed</strong>' and you know what? The bed didn't collapse and and I slept just fine. </div> <div> </div> <div><em>In my romantic life, I am cautious. I am poised to catch myself were things to collapse. I move cautiously, never quite allowing myself to trust......</em></div> Anne Barlowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01959157617759510256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7519640.post-1165940613580990042006-12-12T08:23:00.000-08:002006-12-12T08:23:33.706-08:00Seven Days of Euphemisms (day 7)<div>Wow, what else is there? I know I have missed a lot of them out here.</div> <div> </div> <div>The final list:</div> <div> </div> <div>Crazy</div> <div>Loco</div> <div>Looney Toons</div> <div>Off your rocker</div> <div>Gone 'bye bye'</div> <div>Nuts</div> <div>Section 8</div> <div>Whacko</div> <div>Cuckoo</div> <div>Batty</div> <div>Unglued</div> <div>Psycho</div> <div>Kooky</div> <div>Bonkers</div> <div>Mad as a Hatter</div> <div>Daft</div> <div>Slipped a Cog</div> <div>and, of course my favorite...'Anne'</div> Anne Barlowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01959157617759510256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7519640.post-1165853890253873872006-12-11T08:18:00.000-08:002006-12-11T08:18:10.373-08:00Seven Days of Euphemisms (day 6)<div>Brain...freezing...up.</div> <div> </div> <div>I'm grasping for a category...</div> <div> </div> <div>So, in honor of the horrendously large marguerita I had last night (car keys surrendered to dinner companions, of course).</div> <div> </div> <div>I give you THE DRUNK LIST:</div> <div> </div> <div>Smashed</div> <div>Snockered</div> <div>Soused</div> <div>Three Sheets to the Wind</div> <div>Pissed</div> <div>Tipsy</div> <div>Buzzed</div> <div>Plastered</div> <div>Plowed</div> <div>Sloshed</div> <div>Inebriated</div> <div>Juiced</div> <div>Tanked</div> <div>Lit</div> <div> </div> <div> </div> Anne Barlowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01959157617759510256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7519640.post-1165721034444439102006-12-09T19:22:00.000-08:002006-12-09T22:53:31.273-08:00Seven Days of Euphemisms (day 5)What else do they have euphemisms for?<br /><br />How about killing?<br />Whack<br />Dust<br />Splash (Naval Term)<br />Sleep with the Fishes<br />Dirt Nap<br />Wasted<br />Liquidated<br />Passed Away<br />Finish Off<br />Put to Sleep<br />Dispatch<br />Knock Off<br />Ice<br />Do In<br />Hit<br /><br />Leave it to Hollywood to leave lots of these.Anne Barlowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01959157617759510256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7519640.post-1165599896780928592006-12-08T09:44:00.000-08:002006-12-08T09:45:04.576-08:00Seven Days of Euphemisms (day 4)<div>Let's go to the lighter side of things for this one: Literary and Entertainment</div> <div> </div> <div>"He Who Must Not Be Named" - Lord Voldemort (oops, guess I named him)</div> <div> </div> <div>"The Scottish Play" - It is considered bad luck to refer to MacBeth inside a theater.</div> <div> </div> <div><strong>Frak</strong> - I can't wait until the censors REALLY start getting into BSG. The FCC is the thought-police, right? So if we give meaning to it that they don't like then they are morally obligated to protect the children. </div> <div> </div> <div> </div> Anne Barlowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01959157617759510256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7519640.post-1165513746273275612006-12-07T09:48:00.000-08:002006-12-07T09:49:06.273-08:00Seven Days of Euphemisms (day 3)Ah, the time honored pastime of coming up with new names for vomiting. I'm not quite sure why we have come up with new names for it (perhaps ashamed of the behavior that led to it?).<br /><br />Anyways, here goes:<br /><br />Ralph<br />Blow Chunks<br />Toss Chunks<br />Blow Cookies<br />Toss Cookies<br />Drive the Porcelain Bus<br />Pray to the Porcelain God<br />Heaving<br />Velching (the belch that is almost a vomit)<br />Hurl<br />Retch<br />Spew<br />Puke<br />Upchuck<br />Barf<br />Spit up (let's face it, a baby vomits A LOT)<br />Throw up<br />Regurgitate (technically a medical term but I thought I would throw it it)<br />Urp (ever the onomatopoetic)<br />Be sick<br /><br />and the tragically popular...<br /><br />"My diet."Anne Barlowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01959157617759510256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7519640.post-1165339994937631182006-12-05T09:27:00.000-08:002006-12-06T06:07:05.586-08:00Seven Days of Euphemisms (day 2)Why are all the good euphmemisms sexual?<br /><br />Here is one that my folks used:<br /><br />"We are going to the <strong>Submarine Races</strong>."<br /><br />When I was little I wasn't sure if the submarines raced above or below the water but they were apparently held often and were also apparenltly quite enjoyable.Anne Barlowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01959157617759510256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7519640.post-1165339581617623522006-12-05T09:13:00.000-08:002006-12-07T09:47:33.806-08:00Seven Days of EuphemismsA <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Euphemism">Euphemism</a> is a word or phrase that describes a thing or event using (hopefully) socially acceptible language.<br /><br />I'm a big fan of them.<br /><br />So, in an attempt to start posting again. I am going to put up one a day for a week. Some will be widely known ones, others will be just my own.<br /><br />The first is one that my ex used.<br /><br /><strong>Tallywhack</strong> - Male to Female genital reassignment surgery<br /><br />We did have some major differences. Life was not often fun. But she did have her funny moments. I like the fact that this is a euphemism of a euphemism (Tallywacker refers the male anatomy itself) and it is an amusing play on words.Anne Barlowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01959157617759510256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7519640.post-1163441465136555902006-11-13T10:11:00.000-08:002006-11-13T10:11:05.386-08:00Solving<div>It seems like most problem solving can be boiled down into two camps:</div> <div> </div> <div>1. Determining, to the best of your availability, all pertinent facts, variables, and tolerences. Taking into consideration all of these things, calculate a result.</div> <div> </div> <div>2. Ignore the problem altogether. If you see something shiny and distraction-like and seemingly answerful then grab onto it. At the point where it isn't the answer, allow yourself to be distracted by the next shiny, distraction-like and answerful thing. </div> <div> </div> <div> 2a. Repeat until all wrong answers are eliminated.</div> <div> </div> <div> </div> <div>Only one of these answers is likely to keep you out of trouble on your taxes. The other will take much longer but it is much more likely to give you an interesting journey.</div> <div> </div> <div> </div> Anne Barlowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01959157617759510256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7519640.post-1163094842954838302006-11-09T09:53:00.000-08:002006-11-09T09:54:02.973-08:00Science of BreathIn general, I am a big fan of breathing. No, really.<br /><br />When I was young, I was expressive. If I felt like it, I would hug (I admit it, I was a hugger). I was, for the most part, pretty sedate but I was loyal to my friends and they to me.<br /><br />I danced. I probably looked like a fool but I had FUN. I joked around with folks. I wasn't gregarious. I had issues but in general my life was not awful.<br /><br />In college, mainly because it seemed like the thing to do, I got married. I married someone with a sense of propriety. Someone with such a strong opinion on how people should act that I changed.<br /><br />My friends, I was told, were not really my friends. Hugging ANYONE was inappropriate. My dancing and humor? An embarrassment.<br /><br />My world shrank down from a fun place teaming with fun people down to one...single...person. That person expressed their love of me (and only they loved me) but I was still an embarrassment. I gave up my planned career in music because 'I looked silly'.<br /><br />My life centered on paying our insurmountable bills and medical payments (for the most terrible diseases known to man that were totally untraceable and undetectable).<br /><br />I was sinking and I knew it but stubbornness made me push on.<br /><br />My job led me away for extended periods of time. Funny, but I would make friends, I would DO things. Wind of these friendships made it home so our spouses would try to be friends too. Inevitably feuds would break out back home and I was told that I really should be offended at my friends that were with me.<br /><br />Across the world, I was still being isolated.<br /><br />Leave it to say that my divorce was not caused solely by my transition. It was dead early on but was kept together out of stubbornness and futility.<br /><br />And it left me in a state unable to hug, afraid to dance, and totally self-conscious.<br /><br />I should have mourned my marriage. Even bad marriages deserve that. I didn't. I felt finally free! (Remember that 'I like breathing' thing? This is the point where I figured it out.)<br /><br />I haven't been trying to recapture my youth or anything but I have been trying to recapture its flavor. In drama class, they talk of a little director that criticizes whatever you do (if you listen). I've been trying to get mine to shut up (it's not even in my voice).<br /><br />I class this week, I had a bit of a breakthrough. For the first time in a long time I played. I had fun and I didn't care if it made me look the fool. I moved, I danced, I had FUN. People laughed but SO WHAT?<br /><br />I feel like I am starting to finally catch my breath. I am REALLY liking this breathing thing.<br /><br />When I do? Look out.Anne Barlowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01959157617759510256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7519640.post-1162840942921482812006-11-06T11:22:00.000-08:002006-11-06T11:22:23.056-08:00Decide<div>The decision to live your life as a happy person is an easy one.</div> <div> </div> <div>It's the execution that can truly suck.</div> Anne Barlowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01959157617759510256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7519640.post-1162504636322372272006-11-02T13:57:00.000-08:002006-11-02T13:57:17.313-08:00Practice makes...<div>Practice <em>does not</em> make perfect.</div> <div> </div> <div>Practice makes <strong>permanent</strong>.</div> <div> </div> <div>I was pretty much always a band geek. In High School even more so. Every year, the state or the region would put together an all-star band. For this, we had to submit a tape of our performance. Much of the structure was rigid, scales and such. We also had to record an individual audition piece. </div> <div> </div> <div>I went to my private instructor with this task in mind. He was a judge of this contest for years and even though he would have to recuse himself when my tape was up, we could still work on it.</div> <div> </div> <div>"It's easy." he said "Just play it perfectly."</div> <div> </div> <div>Yeah. Right.</div> <div> </div> <div>Of course this cued our delving into one of our philosophy sessions. This one was about practice.</div> <div> </div> <div>"If you play something over and over and always screw up in the same place. Then you will ALWAYS screw up in that place. Practice does not make perfect. Practice makes permanent."</div> <div> </div> <div>With that, we talked about playing something so slow it was almost painful but play it perfectly note for note. Then speed things up. He pulled out a difficult piece that I hadn't seen before and had me attempt to play it at tempo. I muddled through passably but there were noticeable mistakes. He broke out the third movement and had me try again but this time S-L-O-W-L-Y. Slowly it was simple. Then he had me play it again, steadily ratcheting up the speed with each playing. It wasn't perfect but it was pretty darn good. </div> <div> </div> <div>His point was made. About a week later I made my tape and submitted it. A month later I received notification that I got into the orchestra!</div> <div> </div> <div>His lesson about practice has always stuck with me (of course the side lesson on how to edit the tape didn't hurt much either)</div> Anne Barlowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01959157617759510256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7519640.post-1162406484478790902006-11-01T10:41:00.000-08:002006-11-01T10:41:24.636-08:00Yes. But...<div>There are some basic rules in improvisation. One of them can be summed up by two simple words:</div> <div> </div> <div>"Yes. But...."</div> <div> </div> <div>When a circumstance is given within the context of the scene. It is accepted. It becomes 'canon'. Otherwise the scene can devolve into the Monty Python "I've come to have an argument" sketch.</div> <div> </div> <div>"I've come to have an argument."</div> <div> </div> <div>"No, you haven't"</div> <div> </div> <div>"Yes, I have."</div> <div> </div> <div>"No, you haven't!"</div> <div> </div> <div>and on and on.</div> <div> </div> <div>You see, there are ground rules for these worlds we create. The main difference is that we are writing much of the world on the fly. You don't have to dwell on the new facts - they are just there.</div> <div> </div> <div>I'll never be a great actress. That really isn't where my passion lay. But I do try to collect experiences and try to get something out of them.</div> <div> </div> <div>Accept and move forward.</div> <div> </div> <div>Yes. But....</div> Anne Barlowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01959157617759510256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7519640.post-1162247693034956942006-10-30T14:34:00.000-08:002006-10-30T14:34:53.146-08:00Cootie-file<div>Why is there ever pushback from people about transition?</div> <div> </div> <div>Why should it matter to them? It is not their life.</div> <div> </div> <div>It is not a threat. Is it? Recruitment efforts aside - transition is not a contagion. There is not some rare Transsexual Cootie that someone will tag you with that you cannot shake off.</div> <div> </div> <div>But the fact that transitioners exist at all forces some to re-examine their own lives. If we can be so sure that we would take such drastic steps. How do they know who they are? What events, facts, spirits can they point to that says "This is who I am. This is what defines me." </div> <div> </div> <div>They look in the wrong places and when they do not see what they expect - they translate it as threat.</div> <div> </div> <div>Try as they may they do not understand (comprehend, internalize, grok).</div> <div> </div> <div>It is an unnoticed sense, that is ignorable because the inputs from it have always been in harmony.</div> Anne Barlowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01959157617759510256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7519640.post-1161726930810717642006-10-24T14:55:00.000-07:002006-10-24T14:55:30.956-07:00CraftIn the movie Ferris Buellers Day Off, Ferris often breaks the 4th wall and speaks directly to the movie audience. For this movie, this worked well for comedic effect. It was an intended breaking of the rules - a blatant breach of the contract with the audience. <br><br>Anyway, it worked.<br><br>If you've been reading this blog for a while then you will realize that I am taking drama classes. Supposedly, I am learning to act. My current class pertains to improvisation.<br><br>This is not a "Whose line is it anyway?" class. We are working on conflict resolution within a defined structure. One of the purposes is to help us to be more truthful and more aware. <br><br>I found the concept of the class a bit terrifying (I'm a structure junky) so, of course, I had to sign up.<br><br>I am enjoying myself immensely (but I am still terrified).<br><br>A concept I am beginning to wrap my head around is the difference between self-aware and self-conscious. Some folks in the class are so self-conscious that it almost makes me cringe. They are putting on a SHOW. They lapse into storytelling. <br><br>It feels like....say....you are the parent of a pre-schooler and you go to visit the teacher and the teacher talks to you EXACTLY like she talks to the children. It is a condescension that is not supposed to be mean but it is awfully annoying because it is so inappropriate. <br><br>Some folks in the class are in school productions. I really respect their willingness to get up in front of the audience in their various roles. I've yet to act in anything other than class.<br><br>But I noticed a very distinct division between the actors on stage. With many, I had emotional investment in their characters. I believed them. But with others, even with a massive amount of apparent effort, I felt like they were telling me a story and they were trying to sell it to me with every device they could think of. I felt like I was watching an actor and not something honest. <br><br>I'll likely be like the second group when I first get to the stage. I'm just wondering what the epiphany is like when you can cross that dividing line.<br><br>(note that I am still terrified)<br><br>Maybe in a couple of months I will find out. <br> Anne Barlowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01959157617759510256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7519640.post-1161619516237475352006-10-23T09:05:00.000-07:002006-10-23T09:05:16.473-07:00The Second Bounce<div>If you find yourself single after a certain age and are actively dating then there is a concept that you should learn to deal with.</div> <div> </div> <div>The Second Bounce. The equivalent of the five second rule of dating.</div> <div> </div> <div>Younger guys are great. They are fun. Most are full of energy. Many are very nice to look at. And that is great - for a while.</div> <div> </div> <div>But some of us have issues with men we can legally adopt. At some point it feels a little creepy (I could have gone to High School...with...your...mother *eeep*).</div> <div> </div> <div>Men closer to our own age, barring a solid, informal, all but permanent residency in their Mothers basement, have likely been married. If they are up to the dating scene again, they are on what could be described as the second bounce. </div> <div> </div> <div>There is nothing wrong with that - to be sure. But you have to deal some issues that come with the territory.</div> <div> </div> <div>1. The ex. There is a spectrum to the relationship here. </div> <div> a. Still in love. This could be a challenge. If he dumps you at the slightest hint that they could get back together that is considered NOT GOOD.</div> <div> b. Friends. Does he expect you to be friends with her too (Awkward!)?</div> <div> c. Communication only for contractually obligated reasons (alimony, child support, raising of kids). More on this in #2.</div> <div> d. Enemy (this can be combined with 1c). </div> <div> </div> <div>Chances are that this woman will be in his life somehow. Watch for vindictiveness - sabotage. This can come from many perspectives. If this looks like it is going long term then, if they have kids, you will now be the 'step mom' (which is not an enviable place from what I hear). If they don't like each other and it looks like he will be happy with you then any chance at ruining his happiness may seem fair game. She knows what buttons to push with him. </div> <div> </div> <div>2. Kids. Do they want their parents back together? Prepare for adolescent testing (this is something I became aware of as a teacher). Are you good enough for their Dad? What chinks can they find in your armor? Who the heck do you thin you are, anyway? </div> <div> </div> <div>Okay, from this perspective, things are bleak. I've painted this as a war. It is a winnable one if your relationship with your man is strong enough. Of course if his wife died or they didn't have kids then the issues are completely different. Throw in an interesting biological history and the storm may get a bit rougher. </div> <div> </div> <div>Once again. No real point to this post. Just felt like making a list.</div> <div> </div> <div> </div> <div> </div> Anne Barlowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01959157617759510256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7519640.post-1160516690981397102006-10-10T14:44:00.000-07:002006-10-10T14:44:51.136-07:00Doormat<div>I am a doormat. A target. </div> <div> </div> <div>I try to hard to make people like me.</div> <div> </div> <div>I suck up.</div> <div> </div> <div>I try and do too much for people.</div> <div> </div> <div>Do people like me more for this? No. It is expected.</div> <div> </div> <div>Am I respected by anyone? Anyone??</div> <div> </div> <div>Not in the least.</div> <div> </div> <div>People just care about what they can get.</div> <div> </div> <div>The things I waited years to be able to afford? Belittled, broken, and replaced with trash.</div> <div> </div> <div>If I could, I would be far away from here tomorrow.</div> <div> </div> <div>You know what? If they didn't need me as a resource - no one would care.</div> Anne Barlowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01959157617759510256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7519640.post-1156711584609946592006-08-27T13:46:00.000-07:002006-08-27T13:46:24.823-07:00Still AliveJust busy<br> Anne Barlowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01959157617759510256noreply@blogger.com0