Shameless Plug!

Hi!  I’ve been a miserable failure at launching my etsy store this year, but guess who hasn’t!

Yes, Dear Roommie has successfully made things and put them in her etsy shop!  They are shiny!  Go and buy them!

http://www.etsy.com/shop/sockstormstudio?ref=top_trail

In Protest of Internet Censorship

Obviously, I’m not turning out the lights today, but it goes without saying that SOPA and PIPA still need to be addressed.

I’ll keep this very simple.  This is where I stand on these two awful bills.

This is an extraordinarily detailed examination of the bills, written by someone who actually knows what they’re talking about, instead of the “I’m no expert” industry representatives that have been brought in to testify in congressional hearings.

If you want more information, you cannot throw a virtual stone on the internet today without hitting a dozen anti–SOPA/PIPA articles or dedicated websites.

Go ahead.  Google SOPA.  Google Protect IP Act.

Then please, please contact your representatives and tell them to stop these bills.

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Reliving Past Glories, or The Joys of High School Theater Club

I spent a good deal of the last three days sweating over the latest improv audition.  It’s one of the few Hideout main stage shows that I actually felt strongly enough about to bother to try out for, since the competition for these shows is getting ridiculous.

The audition required a resume, so I’ve been reminiscing about my colorful (if rather rough-and-tumble) days in student theater groups, re-reading old scripts, and boring The Boy to tears with tales of creative casting and production disasters.

I walked into my junior year of high school at a new school with no theater experience more sophisticated than embarrassing elementary school choir musicals.  Granted, I played the starring role in the fifth grade production of “Holly and the Ivy League” (don’t ask – you’ll be glad you didn’t), but that wasn’t the kind of thing I wanted to bring up as I walked into my first audition for our student-run drama club, in front of the wildly intimidating group of seniors running the show.

I was quite sure what, if anything, they saw in my audition (I’m pretty sure I was the only girl who attempted the accent called for), but they gave me a bit part – two, actually – in the big play that was staged on parents weekend.  There I was, wobbling around the stage, playing a drunk actress and a Russian duchess in ridiculous costumes and sporting an accent that went from barely passable to just plain awful as rehearsals progressed.  On opening night, my parents managed to score seats in the front row – only a few feet away from the spot where I stumbled out onto the stage in glorified lingerie and did a little drunken song and dance thing at the end of the first act.

That show was a smashing success, as was the next semester’s play.  I got to play three bit parts in that one.  Then I was selected to be one of the club officers my senior year, which meant I’d have the opportunity to direct.  Bit-parter to director in less than a year.  Hooray for tiny amateur theater.

I took the job very seriously.  Really, too seriously at first.  One of my best friends and I decided we wanted to do a musical, but couldn’t make that happen in the first semester, so we grabbed a random script from our library and did a nice, simple play as a sort of directorial dry-run.

It was, to put it mildly, a learning experience.