Saturday, June 27, 2015

Saturday Serial: Superman #3

Tuesday, June 23, 2015

Due to a medical emergency, this blog will be on official hiatus for the next several days. It's not much different than what's been going on, except you don't have to bother refreshing any day but Saturday, when the scheduled serial posts run.

Emails can be sent to miss.arabella.flynn@gmail.com, but will not likely be answered for a while.

Friday, June 19, 2015

Well, one of the remaining roommates -- who is not me or Jazmin, for the record -- has evidently decided that it's just not important to pay his rent anymore, so it looks like we're getting evicted whether we like it or not. I don't intend to actually kneecap him, just think about it very, very hard.

I am past the point where I respond at all well to stress. Mainly what happens is I sit here and cry. This is especially fun since I've somehow caught pinkeye. I don't know if it's viral/bacterial or just mechanical (e.g., got crap stuck on my lens and didn't notice until it scratched something), but it's just as unpleasant either way. So if you're wondering why I haven't answered your email, done the rest of the dishes, auditioned for your show, cured cancer, etc., it's because I can't stop shaking and sobbing long enough to get it done. I can slap on a pretty face and go do the jobs that require me to stand around in public smiling, but I don't have much left when I get on the train to go home.

I'm still restricted from blogging about some of the less-shitty things, but a few I can tell you all about now that the official announcements have gone out, mainly the shows:

I have been cast in the Post-Meridian Radio Players' Night of the Super Sleuths summer show, in their annual Sherlock Holmes adaptation, and I'm doing costumes for the second show in a row. I find this to be ungodly amounts of fun. I spent a decade or so in charge of Halloween costumes back in Flagstaff, and I've gotten good at begging, borrowing, or wheedling out of the cast the various pieces we need to do the PMRP shows very nearly for free. About half of the women's costuming comes out of my own closet, because my wardrobe is vast and magical. I am particularly happy that the ingenue in the Poirot show fits into my genuine vintage New Look knockoff dress, and that Mrs. Frewin is willing to let me finger-wave her hair. For my own character, I have seized upon the excuse to manufacture one of those gargantuan terrifying Gibson girl hats, because when do I not need a picture hat festooned with flowers and ostrich feathers? If you are local, performances are inexpensive and involve a charming concession stand out front where we display the results of making friends with a couple of food chemists; if you can't make it out to Somerville, the PMRP traditionally livestreams one of the performances, and I'll post the URL and time when I know them.

I am helping costume the Festival@First collection of Fractured Fairy Tales. I'm not chief costume mistress, but I am one of their show dressers, and I suspect some of the more elaborate costumes will come through my contacts, especially for the one director who suggested we put the female lead in an effing huge ball gown. Not all of the tales are adapted from the Brothers Grimm; several are original, one is based on a Korean(/Chinese/Japanese, they're roughly the same story) legend, and at least one involves taking the piss out of Disney. I offered, based on relevant experience, to handle the one dress that requires a tear-away skirt myself. Festival@First tickets are also inexpensive, and the link on the page is already active.

I am ushering/kittening part-time for Harburlesque, which is a weekly striptease show featuring the Boston Babydolls, which runs on the Music City Queen during a cruise around Boston Harbor. It's my first go-around working with Mizter Scratch, and I have to say the performers and tech crew are pleasantly talented, competent, and on the ball. I've been a minor flunky in the entertainment industry long enough to appreciate people who are interested in running things like professionals, rather than demonstrating their contempt for things like "society" and "custom" and "basic organizational skills" by running things like an egotistical clusterfuck. I've gone to a couple of modeling calls that I quietly walked out of halfway through because of that. If you can't run an audition without making a hash of it, you really are not going to get through a runway show.

And finally, I am volunteering at Alterna-TEASE, the quirky little burlesque conference-cum-travelling-performer-showcase. Circlet has already supplied prizes for the Bizarro Ball, a fundraiser this past weekend, and we'll be sending over more cheerful smut for the event itself, in August. I don't know what they've got me down for, but I've run their registration table for the past couple of summers, so that's a pretty good bet.

Only one of these pays, but they all involve spending time working for people who appreciate that I show up and competently perform the duties of my job, so they are a welcome break from everything else. One of my desperate-grasping-for-straws chants right now when I'm trying not to curl up in a hysterical ball is, "All the costumes fit, and the director loves me."

Saturday, June 13, 2015

Hi, guys.

I just wanted to assure you that I am not dead, although sometimes it really seems like the universe is maybe trying to encourage me to give the fuck up and become a hobo.

A lot of things have happened in the past couple of months. I have decided, much to my regret, that there is a particular social group I am just going to have to give up on. They purport to welcome me, but either they don't know what that means, or they're lying to spare my feelings. Some of them are probably being earnest about it, but they can't or at least don't make up for the people who aren't. As Captain Awkward is fond of saying, people who like you act like they like you.

Conversely, people who like you act like they like you! I can commit more of my time now to the people who do in fact seem to value my presence. Some of them offer volunteer experience, some of them a chance to perform, occasionally some freelance work, and in at least one case I get the satisfaction of having long outlasted a number of betting pools whose existence I have suspected for many years.

The good things, in general, are very, very good. I feel like I've earned them on my own merits.

The bad things, on the other hand, are kind of dire, and most of them I have no control over. The short version is that we had another roommate ditch us on less than a week's notice, dumping us with his share of the rent, and then ignore everything we sent him about the utilities money he still owes. The landlady is not renewing the lease and I suspect is trying to annoy us out early by having workmen tromping through the place constantly. The power company has been bought by the Illuminati or something, and where we were previously annoyed when the bill went over $125, our last bill was for over $300. The entire state of Massachusetts is bitching about it. I've picked up a summer job, but it's not going to start soon enough or pay well enough to help much. So if anyone had a pile of $100 bills they were planning to set fire to, I would love to take them off your hands.

I am in kind of a state right now. Something started me thinking the other day about how I thought my life would turn out when I was like nineteen, and I ended up sobbing hysterically about a lot of terrible things that didn't eventually happen. I've gotten to the point where I get up to do things that I absolutely positively cannot put off, and then crawl right back into bed, because I'm utterly exhausted from a combination of constant anxiety and a tendency to wake up in a dead panic whenever air molecules knock against each other a little too loudly.

I do have people to talk to, and I have Jazmin to split things like groceries with, but I don't have any more Xanax, and since there's been a change in my insurance since the last time I did this, I won't be able to get in to see anyone new fast enough to make a difference.

So, that's why I haven't been writing much lately. It requires a level of concentration above what I'm able to muster right now on any topic of less than cosmic emotional importance. Nobody wants to hear me witter on about my terror of homelessness, and several of the more pleasant topics are things I'm obliged to keep under wraps, at least for the moment.

Saturday Serial: Superman #1

Among aficionados of vintage superheroes, the Fleischer Studios Superman cartoons are the stuff of legend. Produced from 1941 onwards, these short theatrical animations are considered classics, beautifully made and surprisingly influential on the history of the original comic book. Prior to these, Superman super-jumped from place to place, hence 'leaps tall buildings in a single bound'. The Fleischer people thought that looked ridiculous, asked if maybe he could fly or something? And that turned out to be a great idea that was written into the comic continuity as well.

They're also all in the public domain, which is why the transfers are unfortunately so rubbish you can tell even on YouTube. Lots of blotches and scratches on the film. Sad, as they're also a wonderful mix of vintage stretch-and-squash animation and human movements done by trained figure-drawing artists.