i invented a maneuver

In the last few days, I've been rejected by two playwriting contests I don't remember entering and a third notified me that they never got around to judging any of the contest entries. Turns out it stings a lot less if you have absolutely no emotional attachment whatsoever. I probably should've figured that out by now.

Last Sunday I saw a fantastic play called, "The Pillowman," at ACT Theatre. It was executed brilliantly. The acting, costumes, lighting, set design, and of course the play, were all exciting and inventive. And I thought the dark humor was exactly an example of what a play could and should be. The theatre was in-the-round, and the play starts with a large ominous gray box that blocks the whole stage. When the play starts, the box lowers and reveals the actors on stage, and then later the lights lower (the whole panel of lights physically lower) and reveal another stage. Wow. Just wow.

I'm reading William Gibson's "The Seesaw Log," about his experience having a successful play produced. It tells it like it is, warts and all. So on the one hand I'm seeing these awesome plays, and on the other, I'm reading about the seven kinds of hell it takes to put a play together. I guess it's not so bad being a spectator. You're bound to lose money either way, but it's far less stressful to just shut up and watch.

This morning while I worked out with my trainer, a co-worker saw me attempt a particularly embarrassing maneuver. It involved a big gray ball under my shoulders, my body in an L shape (abs tight, butt in the air!), a circular weight on my abdomen, doing butterfly curls as I held small weights. Yep. It was the first time anyone I know has seen me at the gym with the trainer, so that's a milestone. Can withstand humiliation by peers? Check. I'll just be adding that to my resume under the "Teamplayer" bullet point.