Well, it's been two weeks since we returned to the big city after the Air Canada fiasco. School has kicked it up a notch: Scene work has started getting hot and heavy (it's been particularly troubling for me, but I think I've figured that one out), and the term is beginning to wrap up. Movement has turned into a choreography challenge which is both difficult, and freaking' fun. Let me tell you, if you ever find yourself in a position where you can't dance, yet have to put together some Choreography, simply put together a hip-hop dance and don your character the name of "megacomputernerd". That way you look good, by looking bad. The perfect plan, I know. Now if only I could find some way of infiltrating So You Think You Can Dance...
Having returned home to a mostly empty fridge and freezer, Gio and I spent six hours trudging through the snow to Costco and our local food market where we blew a great deal of money. Of course I couldn't even fit everything into our fridge, which led to me having to resist opening any jars or ketchup bottles and keeping them in the pantry, until we ate the vast bulk of vegetables we bought.
Speaking of snow, the cold snap here is freaking ludicrous. As I'm writing this, there's a fine dusting of snow on the ground, and my computer's weather network temperature reading for central park is 17°F -- of course, for those of us who use real measurements, that's about -8°C. Tomorrow, the windchill is supposed to get down to -17°C. That scares me in ways I never thought that the weather ever should.
We've recently caught wind of an especially exciting production: Chekhov's The Cherry Orchard has been redone with a new translation/edit by Tom Stoppard (of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead fame) starring Ethan Hawke, and directed by Sam Mendes. Best part? Student rush tickets are ten bucks. Second best part? It's at the Brooklyn Academy of Music, so for once we're not the one's borough hopping when the lot of us go and see it. Take that Mid-Towner's.
In other news: just today a plane had to put down in the Hudson river between Manhattan and New Jersey. The plane was debilitated by a Flock of Seagulls (of I Ran fame.. Wait... What?) and the pilot decided that instead of turning his un-engined aircraft into a flaming ball of skyscraper cleaving death, he'd put her down in the water. EDIT: Now they are saying it was geese -- not as funny at all. Well, turns out he did the right thing: no casualties have been recorded, and only three people went to the hospital for mild hypothermia. The captain had time to walk the aisle twice in order to make sure he left no-one on board. That's right, the Captain was prepared to go down with his ship. Oh, and they evacuated women and children first. Kinda warms your heart doesn't it? I watched until the local news channel started talking about how much of a good thing it was that it was only a flock of seagulls in two engines which caused the plane to crash, instead of a terrorist. Yeah.