Monday, October 6, 2014

Short encore run of our 2014 Fringe Festival show, [Frankenstein], at the Know Theatre!

Harper and I are incredibly proud and happy to announce that the Know Theatre is remounting our 2014 Cincinnati Fringe Festival show, [Frankenstein], as part of its regular season. You can catch encore performances of #franktheplay on Monday, October 27, and Tuesday, October 28, just in time for Halloween. Both shows start at 8pm on the main stage at the Know Theatre (1120 Jackson Street, Cincinnati, Ohio 45202)

We're really exicted about this opportunity to get (most of) the gang back together and do this thing on a REAL stage with REAL blackouts and a REAL projection screen. This remount has given us a chance to consider the feedback we got after our first run; we've been reworking a few key scenes, developing even more soundscapes with Eli, and listening to a ton of Dylan's jokes along the way. If you saw us at Fringe (thank you!!), please consider coming back because this product will absolutely be different. We can't wait to hear what you think of version 2.0. 

You can read all of my posts about our first [Frankenstein] run here

Get [Frankenstein] tickets for October 27 and/or October 28 here.

Spead the word, friends. And, as always, thank you. 

Monday, September 29, 2014

On the floor in Sonya's room

I got a friendship piercing (left ear, middle cartilage) with my friend Sonya sometime during our freshman or sophomore year of college. Losers make bracelets, am I right? I think we went to a Claire's in a mall in Westerville. Apparently, the Claire's employee didn't know how to correctly operate the gun, so my piercing is slightly crooked and periodically un-heals itself. Sonya lost hers tragically in a hair brush accident about a year after we got them, but mine's still in place. I hope it always will be. 

In December, Sonya will have her first baby.

For some reason those facts feel linked. 

Two weeks ago we sat in Sonya's old bedroom at her parents' house and caught up before guests arrived for her baby shower. Sonya was curling her hair and I was sitting on the red carpet; we talked about our significant others, our parents, and all the strange and hilarious ways the body changes (beyond the obvious) during pregnancy. The room is a shrine to a moment in time-- photographs and yearbooks from late high school and scattered college memorabilia. We've sat in that space hundreds of times, and it was nice to be back there, physically and mentally. 

My own parents have moved out of my childhood home; my own shrine to that transformative time now lives in boxes in their basement. I am my adult self at my parents' new house, and that's not a bad thing. But I'll always be a teenager in Sonya's bedroom. I so cherish the elements of our teenage friendship that remain: the laughs, the jokes, and the memories. Few people have the handle on my timeline that Sonya does, and that history is special. As I get older, having other people who are responsible for keeping track of my story has become important. I hold close the histories of my friends as well, and in some ways our shared history informs our shared future. 

Today, I've been thinking about how comforting shared history can be in some cases and how hard it can be to overcome in others.

I'm really looking forward to meeting Sonya's little boy, and telling him silly stories about his magnetic mother when she was 14.  

Monday, September 15, 2014

It's just one of those things

On the way from Purdue University to Columbus very early Saturday morning, I looked down at my phone for a reason I don't remember and almost immediately heard a loud noise and felt the car jolt. When I looked up, Eli was maneuvering his Jeep to the right side of the road. I thought a tire had blown.

We got out and saw that the wheel well and under body had been knocked loose and was resting on the front right tire. There was steam.

E: You know what happened, right?

A: What do you mean?

E: We hit a deer. It jumped under the car at the last minute.

A: Oh my god, is it still under there?

We both looked. It wasn't.

I continue to be thankful that I didn't see the impact, and that the scene wasn't a bloody one.

Eli called AAA. After two unfortunate interactions with customer service representatives (one pinned us in Cincinnati and connected us with a tow truck in West Chester even though we were in Springfield, and the other hung up on us), the third representative identified a tow truck seven miles away and estimated he would be there in 40 minutes. Feel free to do that math. We did. 

I got out of the car to call my dad. My dad answered the phone, "I'll be right there," thinking we were at the front door of my parents' house ready to be let in. It was nearly 2AM, two hours into my dad's 60th birthday. I explained that we were actually 40 miles away sitting on I-70 E. Then, he offered to come pick us up. What a guy.

The tow truck arrived around 2:40AM. The tow truck man opened with: "Is that your mess back there?"

Then, he hoisted the Jeep up onto the truck, and struggled with one of the securing cables until we felt it snap. The tow truck lurched forward. When he got back in the cab, the man explained that, because the cable broke, he had to secure the Jeep in a way he was "less comfortable" with. In my mind's eye, I saw the Jeep flying off the back of the truck, or worse, the truck dragging a half-connected, flailing Jeep at 50mph, sparks flying. I disconnected from that potential problem immediately in an effort to remain calm. 

The man started driving and told us he was going to "take it easy" on the way to the auto repair shop. We rode in silence until about half way through the five mile drive, when the tow truck man pulled over without warning on the side of a completely dark, deserted street to "check the security of the connection."

A: (whispered) Is he about to kill us?

E: I think so.

I wish I could properly explain how creepy this drive was, and how long each mile felt. I don't believe that anyone lives in Springfield, Ohio. I didn't see a single person besides Eli and the tow truck man on the entire trip into town, and a black cat crossed the street in front of us...twice. The tow truck man gave a guided tour of Springfield's abandoned warehouses until, mercifully, we arrived at the shop where my dad and brother were waiting.

We left Eli's jeep in Springfield and finally got to my parents' house around 4:15AM. 

My dad's refrain throughout this three hour ordeal was, "it's just one of those things." 

When the tow truck man wasn't creeping me the eff out, he told us about a job he did last week wherein the person he was towing didn't have anyone to come get him. I'm not sure if the tow truck man ended up giving him a lift home or what, but I sure did feel thankful for all of the support in my life. Eli's Jeep may not be okay, but we are. 

What's more, we're super fortunate to have a network of people we can rely on to pick us up in Springfield in the middle of the night. As annoying as the whole thing was (poor deer, poor Jeep), I came out of it feeling lucky. 

Tuesday, September 2, 2014

Deep Creek Lake 2014

Back to school for one week and already I needed a vacation!

But seriously, last week did not go as well as I had hoped. I felt very disorganized and stressed, and much of what happened felt like some karmic payback I wasn't sure I deserved. My internship got off to a rocky start, and my return to the classroom was less than inspiring. The truth is, sometimes life is just like that. I'm sure everything will fall into place. 

Needless to say, I was really glad to visit Deep Creek Lake in Oakland, MD for the holiday weekend. Monica's family owns a house on the lake and getting the gang together for (basically) boating and Flip Cup has become a summer tradition. We played cards and, as in years past, we watched tons of really terrible television (the Game Show Network's Idiotest and several installments of Lifetime's " 17" series including Missing at 17 and Stalked at 17) as well as favorite childhood films, exclusively on VHS. 

I don't remember tubing as a child, but it's kind of violent as an adult. Sure, there's an adrenaline rush, but mostly it's a lot of water in your face and flipping off an inner tube while holding on to your bathing suit bottoms for dear life. I felt like I was laugh-drooling the entire time. Riding in the front of the speed boat was just as exhilarating and far less painful. Plus, there was an extra element of fear and excitement because only four of us (and by us I mean, not me) got our boating licenses online like 12 hours before. We were definitely qualified to use the rented boat to pull people on ropes at high speeds. (Just kidding-- all the boat drivers were super skilled and cautious, even if they were very newly qualified). There was also a near flooding of the pontoon boat which, even though I wasn't there, sounded super traumatic. Pontoonami 2014: never forget. 

In addition to Hearts, a card game I am super good at-- ask anyone, I was formally introduced to Tinder, which is as amusing as it is frightening. Most of the dating websites and all of the dating apps have been invented since I've been in a relationship, so I often feel like online dating experiences are unrelatable and references about the Internet dating struggle are lost on me. It was fun to swipe left and right and see who my friends matched with, but I was mostly grossed out by the things people are willing to say and send to complete strangers. Like, if you're trying to send me a picture of your private parts, I'm not trying to know you in real or Internet life. If I were sincerely interested in meeting someone on Tinder, I would feel frustrated by all the bozos I'd have to sift through to get to one normal dude. Anyway, I digress. 

As I expected, it was really fun to laugh, drink beers, and cuddle with friends I don't get to see as often as I'd like.

On my drive home yesterday, I was thinking about my time at Deep Creek and all of my friends' amazing(ly different) personalities and their many admirable qualities. I've been thinking a lot lately about the type of person I want to be; it's thrilling to realize that this is within my control to a certain extent. For example, I want to be a person who is regularly in touch with her grandparents. I called my grandma on the drive home and caught up with her for a few miles. I called my grandpa too, but I didn't reach him. Hopefully that means he was out and about talking to people and enjoying himself. 

I think this week will be better. 

Cheers to that.