Eyes Green, Hair Bald!

My title refers to something I forgot to mention this in my last post. It’s possible I repressed it, though my conscious mind seems to find it funny. Not much of a story, really. I sat down for my ID picture, waited a few seconds, the personnel lady asked me if my eyes were green or blue, I said they straddle the line but I usually go green. She nodded, and then handed me a card that said, yes, Eyes: Green, Hair: Bald. I mildly protested, but knowing that bald-and-in-denial is worse than regular bald, I acquiesced. But if this bad boy demagnetizes, I’m having it changed. Hell, there’s a guy on board who shaves his head, and his card had a hair colour!

I still maintain I’m balding, not bald. But daily rides in mirrored elevators do have me glowering with some frequency at my scalp’s flesh island, and the fact that I’m sunburnt at the top of my forehead where I went light on the sunscreen because of ostensible hair coverage also has me reevaluating.

So, not much more to report on excursions. I’m definitely pacing myself. My logic is why burn all the cool places to see in the first few weeks when I’m here for a few months? Plus, I’m racing to meet a deadline to enter a play into the Fringe New Play Contest. (Whether I make it or not is still up in the air, but I figure worst-case scenario, the attempt will make me productive. And there’s a month after that deadline to decide if I just want to submit on my own, so it’s energy well spent.)

There has been fun, though, lest you were concerned. Mostly of the improvisers hanging out with each other and nerding out variety. For instance, there was the invention and first round ever of “Toast Your Vacation,” most of the credit of which goes to director Matt Craig (though variations will developed with the cast.) In essence, it involves bouncing a crumpled-up napkin off the ceiling and trying to get it to land in a triangular upright menu on the bar table. It’s exactly twice as fun as it sounds.

There was also the night in the karaoke room, where we did a series of duets with entirely invented and usually wildly inappropriate lyrics. For the most part, the lyrics didn’t even match up in terms of timing with the originals, the exception being the chorus of “Constant Craving,” which of course became “Constant Raping.” Again, twice as funny as it sounds. My personal highlight of the game was probably a duet with Matt Craig where I was a baby abandoned in a dumpster (which he quickly changed into a baby born into a dumpster, with the lid slamming shut cutting the umbilical cord), he was the father, and the bulk of the song was the ways in which I was violated by products in the dumpster, mostly breakfast cereals.

In terms of less than perfect experiences, we went to Teppanyaki (the ship equivalent of Benihana). I don’t know if it’s a class consciousness thing, but I’m always extremely uncomfortable in situations where servers or chefs are forced to perform for me. The way I see it, they’re already performing a service for me, they shouldn’t have to pretend to be thrilled about it. (Feel free to observe me next time we’re in a restaurant and waiters have to sing “Happy Birthday.” Welcome to Cringe City, population: me!) Plus, noisy! (I realize there may be some projecting or cognitive dissonance at play here, but that’s a rant for a later night.)

One thing about the Teppanyaki experience that does bear sharing: at one point, sensing that we were a young, hip and ribald crowd, the chef created a fried egg manpart (complete with egg-shell testes) and a fried rice lady’s hoohah, and once that had been established, pushed the manpart into the hoohah, viciously chopping the egg as it entered. Misogynistic, perhaps. Horrifying, hells yeah!

Oh, and I did some laundry and discovered the crew ping-pong table. Small things, but they helped with the transition from “I’m in a hotel” to “I live in a hotel.”

Today was a big day in two ways. This morning, our director, Matt Craig, left us. He will definitely be missed. It’s interesting to see how even in the few hours he’s been gone how the group dynamic has changed. This is because he is one of the most naturally entertaining people I’ve ever met, and so many of our group encounters consisted of us just sitting back and listening to him tell stories, riff, etc. Nature abhors a vacuum, though, so I’m sure we’ll recover. But he’ll be missed.

We also had our first improv shows tonight. I’m aware that I should be writing more about that (and possibly less about egg-penises), but it’s late and I’m tired, and this is the part I’m writing in real time, and I’m not entirely sober. But they were fun, and as with the sketch show, you could feel the learning curve happening, and by the end of the second show, we seemed to really be discovering each other as an ensemble. So good times ahead, I’m sure, and hey, it’s not like I’m going to be running out of opportunities to talk about shows.

And for those who want to track my personal entertainment, I have finished Part One of American Gods, and am four episodes into the first season of NYPD Blue (you can really taste the Milch!)

Go to bed, you nutcases!

Oh wait, you probably are.

I’m going to bed.

One Response to “Eyes Green, Hair Bald!”

  1. Dingwall says:

    You have a full head of hair in my heart, Boss Man.

    My regards to the sea,


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