Saturday, October 22, 2005

Where Nobody Knows Your Name

I have no idea what the deal is, but I've never had more people mispronounce my name than in the past two months. How difficult is it, really? Some versions I have heard here:
Tamryn
Tuh-MARE-uh
Tuh-MAHR-uh
Cameron
Tara
Tam-uh
Mahr-uh

I've noticed that correcting this mistake is now virtually a habit.
"It rhymes with camera."
"Just ignore the middle 'A'."
"You can just call me Tam."

Very interesting. I even had one guy read my name tag and tell me, "You spelled your name wrong." I have professors who still don't get it. I can't really correct them in the middle of class this far into the semester, can I?

Mom, did you and Dad think it was going to be this hard for me? Did my paternal grandparents really think my name was "Camera" because dad was a photographer? Should I just start going by "Camera" so people think I was raised by cool hippies?

How is it that people can keep track of Sean Puff/P. Daddy/Diddy Combs's names... and they can't even figure out how to pronounce mine? [BTW, he now goes by just "Diddy."]

Monday, October 17, 2005

The Chinatown Bus

I took a trip down to DC this weekend. It was great (as trips to DC typically can be). I took the chinatown bus to get there. Basically, the buses load and unload in Chinatown(s) and it's a pretty cheap trip: $35 roundtrip.

The ride down there was great. I was reading the script for a play that I was going to see later that night for my thesis. I actually had two seats to myself. It was crafty thinking on my part, if I do say so. I piled my stuff into the seat on the aisle and then looked EXTREMELY BUSY with my reading as people walked by. I know. It's horrible and selfish. It was also roomy.

Cathy and Diane picked me up in Chinatown in DC. I had a great weekend. The play was done well and I managed to get some good interviews afterward for my thesis. The next morning I interviewed the dramaturg. "What's a dramaturg?" you ask? It used to be someone who merely offered historical analysis and interpretation of plays. Now, dramaturgs also offer creative insight. They help with the "vision" of the show.

Cathy and I also went shoe-shopping. I practically had a nervous breakdown in the store: too many shoes. I can't handle it! And how, in a store referred to as a "warehouse" could I not find a pair to fall in love with? Oh my. I suppose I was a bit tired...

The trip home was less than desirable. Cathy dropped me off just before midnight in the ghetto to catch the bus. I tried the same tactic as on the way up, but it was in vain. A couple came up and asked if the wife could sit next to me. The husband helped put all my stuff in the overhead compartments. He would sit near her on the other side of the aisle. I decided to trade seats so they could sit together. I gave up a great seat near the window! Oh dear. For the next four hours my head bobbed up and down as I tried to sleep. I then spent an hour waiting for the subway trains to take me home.

My little lesson in karma from the Chinatown bus.

Sunday, October 09, 2005

Rain


I fear I might be denouncing my statehood. Today I took a step that defines me as more of a "New Yorker" than and "Oregonian." In fact, I hate that I'm actually admitting it to you -- I bought an umbrella.

At first, I vowed that I wouldn't use it unless necessary. Once the winds picked up and whipped the rough rains in my face, I open the said umbrella. It only took a few minutes before I fell victim to the doom of a cheap purchase: the dome flew back, allowing the brutal rain drops to douse my hair... while I fought to pull back the umbrella to its proper placement. Images of crude scenes from 'Mary Poppins' danced through my head.

This is no Oregon rain.

I decided I would tough it out.

My friend, Stephanie, and I went to a movie tonight. We met up and headed to the theater at Times Square. Her first question, "Where's your umbrella?" I had left it at home, proving that I was a true Oregonian and didn't need a silly, useless piece of black vinyl and wires. Fate took a vengeance on me. The rains fell down even harder and the puddles in the streets grew higher. My hair became more and more plastered to my face... and somehow, water began to rush down my back. The bottom half of my jeans displayed a wet, darkened blue hue... even more evidence of my defeat.

Now, I'm back at home. The first thing I checked: my lonely umbrella sitting alone in my room -- all dried out. I think next time I'll take him along, just so he'll feel as if he has something to do.

Sunday, October 02, 2005

The City That Never Sleeps

I get it now. Whoever called New York "The City That Never Sleeps" was likely a grad student at Columbia.

I've been up late studying every night. I typically stay up until 1:30. I haven't stayed up that late on a consistent basis since I was in undergrad, and back then my body could take it!

I went to see La Boheme at the Metropolitan Opera this week. That sounds pretty cool to announce. Then I realize, that opera's performed at the Met every year. So I went to something like it's 1,968th performance. It doesn't make me feel so cool when you say it like that. BUT, it was my first time there! What a beautiful theatre! An absolutely gorgeous grand curtain! And the chandeliers lift up to the ceiling just before the show starts. Good stuff.

I went out for my first interview for my thesis this week. I still haven't figured out whether I'll use it. I'm going to discuss contemporary religious theatre, but I'm not sure what about it.
Anyway, the play I went to cover is called, "Kabbalah." I went to the final callback auditions. I didn't exactly know what I was getting myself into. I just read the articles on its homepage:
http://www.jewishtheater.org/Jewish%20Theater/Press.htm
They hadn't sent me the script because they said it was "still in the works." Okay, so here's the story: a rabbi is reading Genesis and realizes God was cursing Adam and Eve because they clothed their nakedness. So he goes out and preaches nudity to everyone. Apparently, at the end of the show, everyone lines up naked. They've included a Madonna character in the script. The director says the show is not about Kabbalah; it's about faith and how people are too blinded by their religions. If I decide to use this element, I think it will go great against a show where the intentions are based on people who think the world is corrupt and that people are faithless.
So those are just some thoughts.

Luckily, the interview was right near the Empire State Building, so I got to walk around. I didn't go up to the top yet; I'm waiting for friends and family to come visit before doing all the cool stuff.

Also, I think we're finally pulling back from all our talk on theory in one class. Now I have to go back and figure out what we actually talked about. Who is Foucault really? What is deconstruction? What were the influences behind Adorno and Benjamin? We now move on to reading plays in that class. Our first target: Hamlet. Thank goodness.