My reunion was a bittersweet thing, as all such walks down memory lane are. So much of my college experience had to do with people who are no longer there. I was the only member of my graduating class to return, so there were very few familiar faces in the crowd. It did, however, inspire me to purchase a new translation of Swann?s Way.
A Few Facts about my Reunion:
* Trips to The Mill: 4
* Music: Rufus Wainwright, Rachael Yamagata, Ryuichi Sakamoto, The Postal Service, and Marianne Faithfull
* Readings attended: 4
* Readings enjoyed: 4
* Productions attended: 4
* Productions enjoyed: 1
* Amount paid for one of my photographs used on poster, flier, and programs: $0

Oh, and I accidentally left my cell phone charger at Willie?s and therefore must use my car charger instead.

Now, I am at my summer stock gig. A lot of crazy shit happens to me. My car is dying. My television gave up the ghost this morning. I can?t access the internet from my room because I don?t have a phone card and don?t have an Ethernet ID yet. I can?t win for losing sometimes.
Yesterday, I was watching Gilmore Girls when the picture went out on my TV. Great, I thought, now I know what it was like to live in the golden era of radio. I gave it a very professional whack and the picture returned, sort of. There were a few lines of distortion across the top of the screen, but everything else was okay. This afternoon, I turned it on to watch some sort of escapist, middle of a Saturday afternoon crap and discovered that the lines had migrated to the middle of the screen, leaving a big black bar across the top. I was only seeing below the equator. Sounds like a job for the vertical hold button, eh? Small problem?I don?t have one! I?m an AV professional, I thought, I?ll just unplug it and crack the casing to look for obvious problems. As I was bent over the tube, Leatherman at the ready, I noticed a foul, bad electronics smell emanating from within. Perhaps this was from old dust on a warm tube, but as I do not have a great sense of smell, I must believe that this was a sign of impending electrical fire. Or at least unpleasantness. So I shoved it under the bed and thought very unkind thoughts. I?m so glad that I hauled that thing halfway across the country for it to break within twenty-four hours. Maybe I?ll take a look at it later. There isn?t much to do here and it kills me not to be able to fix the problem. At least I?ve established that turning it off and back on again and a good whack are not solutions.

My car is the perfect candidate for Pimp My Ride. I?m oddly fascinated by that show, even though I?m not really into cars as anything but transportation. Hoopdies go in to emerge beautiful steel butterflies later. I know exactly what I would do for the video. Start with me walking around the car, pointing out the tragic passenger side dents and mismatched bumper. A shot of me pouring in transmission fluid, as I have a leak that would cost more to repair than the car is worth. Then, the interior. See how the mirror occasionally flips down on the sun visor as I?m driving? Hot! I?m a sound designer/engineer and I have your basic AM/FM radio and a wonky speaker. Small problem: you and your car must be in Southern California to be on the show, and she?s not going to make it that far. Don?t get me wrong, I love my car. I learned to drive in that car, have taken it cross country several times, and treat it as a sort of purse on wheels. But soon she will go the way of all rust, to that big junkyard in the sky, and it gets me a little choked up. We?ve had some good times together, my Dorothy and I, and some really awful ones as well. Like that time that I had a blowout on the Pike right outside of Philly, when I had a bunch of gear on top of the mini spare in the trunk. Nothing raises the ire of fellow motorists like driving 45 on a donut on the Pike. Or the time that I had to pull over on to the shoulder because I was crying hysterically after hearing a song on the radio in the middle of a messy breakup. Maybe I could have taken her to the car wash more often (or at all) and perhaps I should have used more than a couple of blankets to insulate my television from all the bumps and potholes of the PA highway system. These things happen.

I love my:
* Ipod and FM transmitter. I downloaded a frequency list from the manufacturer and can rock it whenever I?m in the car that I promised my mom I wouldn?t drive ?too much?.
* MAC makeup remover wipes (genius! And perfect for removing all those fab MAC products!)
* Spotting celebrities on the street in NY. I saw Mo Rocca the last time I went in. And no, I did not point, take photos, or follow him. My roommate and I talked about it for two blocks afterwards though.
* Brown eyeliner pencil. It?s a bit metallic and brings out the blue in my eyes.
* White eyeliner crayon from Sephora. A little shine that opens the eye. The visual antidote to a hangover, to quote my friend Lisa.
* Mascara. I didn?t wear it for the longest time because I thought I didn?t need it, what with my big luscious Johnson lashes. Wrong! A good mascara takes them to a power of ten, but I still try to use a light hand to avoid looking like a Liza Minelli impersonator/ drag queen.
* Coffee maker. I?m not a human being until eleven AM, so a morning coffee infusion before work is vital.
* Super discreet Manhattan Portage laptop messenger bag. You?d never guess I was carrying precious cargo in its unassuming navy confines.


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