the theatre on the hill

I am becoming once again accustomed to the office of the Arts Council of the Conejo Valley, my high school haunt. In true twilight zone fashion, the building is completely changed, yet the institution and all of its inhabitants remain the same. Some people have come and gone, and many are considerably older, but the overall feeling is nearly identical. The new building (this is the center where we performed the hospital play) is considerably more sterile than the old Janss house of my youth, and there are many more turns and twists in this maze of offices and computers and desks. The old center was only the Arts Council, this is the entire Recreation and Parks district, so there are all sorts of boss-monsters roaming the folded tunnels, just waiting to yell at somebody to yell at somebody to yell at somebody. But it is comfortable like an old stinky pair of sneakers, grey, tattered, and doodled upon with the imagination of a sixteen year old boy.

Today I cleared out the theatre and readied it for a children's string concert. At this moment I can faintly hear "ode to joy" vibrating through the plaster behind this rather futuristic flatscreen computer monitor, and it is truly astounding that sonic glow of nearly two hundred year old music in the hands of eleven year olds can affect me as strongly as it did just now.

It seems that this might be a steady job, at least until the end of the summer, when I visit Chicago and return with the hopes of working as a substitute teacher. I am taking the CBEST test in August, and assuming I do well I should be able to work pretty steadily as a sub. $100 a day isn't to bad, and it'll be nice to have some more teaching experience.

I am starting to set my goal crosshairs on another PhD program, this one being at Woods Hole oceanographic Institute/MIT. Might as well set the goals high, but if I can really excel at an MS, and more importantly do some good work (aka being published) it isn't inaccessible.

I am currently reading 'Master and Commander', 'Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World', an ecology textbook, a precalculus text, an evolutionary biology text, and the Earthsea books. My mind is nourished.

I gotta work. I'll post more later.

breaking news

we think it may be an olive-sided flycatcher. not a western pewee.
if any new devolpments occur which lead us to change our minds you will be the first to know.
no wait.....the bird will be the first to know.
no wait....the bird already knows what it is. i don't think it gives a damn if we think it's a pewee or a flycatcher or a llama.
or does it?
hmmmmm......

Comments

I don't know if anyone has been trying to comment, but I just enabled them. They had been turned off somehow. Please comment all the time, they get emailed to me, and then I know that you care. I miss everyone.

Hollywood forestry

So. B and I are housesitting for some friends, and staying here in the aorta of culture itself, Hollywood. Last night we sat around with Bill and played '1313 Deadend Drive," a truly thrilling gaming experience. It is most likely intended for five-year-olds, but we sure managed to have a blast. I won. We also dined on some real quality Japanese food with shocking frugality. No stars, lots of homosextuality, and just a couple ounces too much cool. Kinda nice to be in a city again.

So I signed on to run followspot and help out with electrics for the Young Artists Ensemble's summer musical, Guys and Dolls. Yahoo. It pays pretty well, and I have no responsibility, which in a theatre is pretty rare for me, and it ends at the end of the month. So, looking for more stable work, but if I am to return to the windy city in the dusky August sun it may prove somewhat difficult. CBESTs are in August as well, and I need to take it in order to substitute teach in the fall. I like teaching.

I have narrowed five potential reseach interests: 1) Kelp Forest Ecology, 2) Temperate Rain Forest Ecology, 3) Biodiversity of Polar Ecosystems, 4) Evolutionary Biology of Nudibranchs and Sea Hares, 5) Avian Biology and Behavior.

Thrilling, I know.