I went to see The Black Rider at ACT last night with my mom. The first response I had was, "Wow, it really is a combination of Tom Waits and William S. Burroughs." There were parts of it when I thought to myself, "Um, interpretive dance much?" But as a whole, it was so aesthetically interesting and unique. I never imagined that Marianne Faithfull could look so grotesque. In all its weirdness, it had so much potential for the actors to become self-indulgent, upping the ante of weirdness just for the sake of being the weirdest, or being a show-stealer. But none of the actors took this route, which was kind of an amazing thing to see. They all also had pretty amazing vocal range. Oh my god, I'm so spoiled at these things, sitting in my grandma's seats (which is weird, of course). Her seats are three rows from the stage. Well, three rows from the orchestra pit, but still. The pit's not really big enough for an orchestra.
The ants have finally reached my landlord's house, so NOW, after a year of me trying to get her to do something, anything, about our infestation, she has decided that yes, ants are gross, and maybe she'll resort to chemical means. She said, "They're in my room, on the second floor; it's disgusting." I was thinking, yeah, they've been in my room FOR A YEAR! There have been one or two in my bed the past few days, and today when I came home there were like 15 hiding under the clothes I'd left on the duvet. Ew. These are the stupidest ants ever. Their favorite rooms are my room and the bathroom, the places they are least likely to find food. I've tried, over the past 12 months, to be all Zen about it and just leave the ants alone. I don't really care about them being on the front porch, or in the bathroom, but I CAN'T STAND THEM IN MY ROOM!! Or in my my food, that's not cool either.
2 comments:
The funniest thing about killing ants for me was when I'd see the live ants carrying the bodies of the dead ants on their backs to safety and first I'd be a little heartbroken, but then I'd just laugh to myself and think, "Nice try, dudes." At this point, it would occur to me that I knew what it was like to be Ayn Rand.
Back when I was younger, and my mom was cooking soup/stew, or some other dish involving a covered pan, I'd go catch a bunch of ants by having them stick to a piece of tape, and then place the tape on the lid of the pan and fry them.
Or I'd gather a whole bunch of them in plastic baggies filled with water and stick them in the freezer. That shit was pretty damn fun.
Post a Comment