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Entries tagged with experiences.theatre 
17 October 2015 22:56 - "Man, the man is non-stop"
rosefox: A cheerful fellow with a giant chaotic jumble on a leash. (busy-good)
Here it is mid-October already. The time, it does fly.

This is what we've done so far in October:

Long list is long )

*pant pant*

Not included on there is all of us having day jobs (including big projects/crunch time on all fronts), date nights, hobbies, chores, constantly working on being a better family (improving conflict resolution, practicing asking for things we want and need, supporting one another through our various anxieties around pregnancy and birth and parenthood), etc. Fortunately the list for the second half of October is slightly less daunting.

The lipoma is on my lower back, about 5 cm by 2.5 cm, and totally benign. It's been there for years and years. I wouldn't even bother having it removed except that it does get a very little bit bigger every year and is starting to occasionally ache a little, which means I'm going to have to have it out eventually. Better to do that now while it's moderate-size (which means a quicker procedure and faster healing) and while I'm not picking up a baby all the time (stitches on my lower back = no lifting heavy things for a couple of weeks). So there will probably be an outpatient procedure for that sometime in November, whee.

On the hobby front, I've been obsessing over annotating the Hamilton lyrics on Genius; just putting the subject line on this post reminded me of an annotation I'd wanted to make and suddenly it's half an hour later. (I've so far resisted the siren song of annotating every TMBG song ever, because a) I do not have time and b) no, really, I don't have time. I permitted myself to mark up "Vestibule" and that is it.) (For now.) I've also been growing some nice virtual succulent gardens in Viridi.

I finally finished knitting a pair of baby booties, and I'd like to try making a blanket or sleep sack next. The booties were pretty tough on my arms but I'm hoping working with larger needles will be easier. Now I just have to survive the rampant gendering in the comments of every single Ravelry pattern for babies. THE BABY DOES NOT CARE WHAT COLOR THE SLEEP SACK IS. Anyway, this looks cute and I might try to make it, maybe using this technique for ribbing to see whether it makes me hate ribbing any less.

I've turned in my Best Books list for 2015, which in theory means I can read for fun now, but I have no idea what I actually want to read. Maybe I'll reread some old favorites.

It's very firmly fall now. Right now it's 40F outside. Inside, the heat's come on, but I haven't put plastic over my window or taken out my air conditioner yet, so there's still a bit of a draft in my room. The cats think this is the best weather ever, and have been super cuddly. Sam keeps walking all over me. Alex usually avoids X's bed, which is Sophie's territory, but the other day X woke up from a nap to find all three cats hanging out on the bed together (though all carefully positioned at the maximum possible distance from one another). Even the usually aloof Sophie sat on J tonight while X and J and I were cuddling! We were all completely astonished.

Our early wintergift to ourselves was heaps of warm clothing from L.L. Bean: robes, slippers, flannel shirts, insulating undershirts, a fits-over-the-bump winter coat for X, all that lovely stuff. I got a Black Watch plaid flannel nightshirt that goes down to my knees and it's the best thing ever. I think I'm going to snuggle up in it and go get lots of good sleep.
26 September 2015 04:17 - "We'll tell the story of tonight"
rosefox: Me laughing joyfully. (joyous)
A couple of weeks ago I went to see Hamilton with [personal profile] regyt and [personal profile] novalis. It was extraordinary. And the ways that it was extraordinary were themselves extraordinary.

My thoughts on the show will necessarily be a bit disjointed because the show itself is made up of so many things. As one writeup noted, it's got about 150% more songs than your typical musical. The sheer volume of musical numbers, and musical styles, is overwhelming. And every single thing the show does, it does well.

But it has to, because it is the embodiment of needing to be twice as good to get half as far.

Even before we reached the theme of Hamilton writing like he's running out of time, I wondered whether Lin-Manuel Miranda was pouring all these songs into one show because he thought it was his last chance, or because he simply has an inexhaustible fount of songs in him. But it's so clearly not his last chance, and he himself is not writing like he's running out of time. He's writing like he has to make up for lost and stolen time. He's writing for everyone whose voice was (and is) suppressed, and filling the stage with people of color in recognition of every brilliant talent who was (and is) shut out of conventional Broadway casting calls.

It also gives a significant amount of time to Eliza Hamilton's side of things. The show ends with her narrating the fifty years she spent actively telling and preserving her husband's story and other stories, in addition to founding an orphanage and campaigning against slavery. She declares "I put myself back in the narrative" and asks who will tell her story. Hamilton's death doesn't end the show. Eliza's does, literally--her last gasp is the last sound before the lights go out. This is an unsubtle glove in the face of everyone who's ever thought that only men's stories were important enough to make musicals out of.

I tweeted about it somewhat. And I'm annotating the hell out of it on Genius. And I really really want to sit down and talk with people about it. And I want to see it again. I'm almost never enthralled by live theater; the last show that left me feeling like this was Rent. (Lin-Manuel Miranda has written about how much Rent meant to him. I'm not surprised.) There's some part of me that wants to be at the ticket lottery every day until I get to go again. And then again.

Hamilton had actual tears running down my face. That's only happened to at two other shows: Rent and Cabaret. But Rent and Cabaret are basically designed to emotionally destroy you (or me, anyway). Hamilton isn't. It's the full story of a person's life, with all its ups and downs and failures and successes and sorrows and joys. It's the whole thing. I left the theater feeling not crushed but quietly uplifted.

You can listen to the entire cast recording here. It's tremendous, even without the visual dimension. Set aside a couple of hours and some tissues for it. And if you get a chance to go, go.

(If you do see it in person, a tip: The intermission lines for the bathrooms are impossible. Grab your ticket stub, run next door to the Marriott, go up the escalator one flight, and use the bathrooms there. No lines! A moment of peace and quiet! You'll be back in your seat just before the end of intermission.)
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