Well, it's now official: Annex has a new home in the labyrinthian Capitol Hill Arts Center, a former 1920's era auto dealership just off the south CapHill business district at 12th & Pine (and conveniently only about 12 blocks from my humble abode). We've crossed the "t"'s, dotted the "i"'s, ran the lease past the lawyers, and signed on the line.
It's been a long process, especially considering the eight-plus months spent in our previous attempt to join up with the Babylonians in the now-defunct Union Garage space just a few blocks away. But, after more than four years as a homeless, itinerant troupe, we've got a permanent roof over our heads again: an intimate, 40+ seat venue, access to the larger CHAC "Showroom" mainstage and the equally intimate Lower Level cabaret, office, dressing room & storage space, a convenient restaurant and lounge in the same building, plus a partnership arrangement with another swell group of theatre people.
There's lots of work left to do to turn the place into a viable performance venue, but that goes without saying. In the meantime, we'll be wielding mops, brooms & paint brushes to spiff the place up a bit for our official opening next month. It's all very exciting, and hopefully presages a renewal for our happy band of crazy kids who have insisted on making the impossible practical for nearly 19 years now.
The People Who Are Here - Are The People Who Are Here
The Theatre held its annual retreat last weekend, once again at the lovely, remote & picturesque Anderson Lodge. Although a somewhat smaller turnout than previous years, on the plus side, we actually accomplished a lot in the way of talking about our art, and how we want to do it.
In addition, much knitting was perled, many waffles and vegie weiner wraps baked, many, many hands of Wizard won-and-lost, crowns were made and worn, some nekkid female hot tubbing occured, and I slept on a pool table.
So, not only is my cell phone STILL missing, but on Wednesday my hard drive crashed. Turns out my laptop fan went *kablooie!*, causing my CPU & drive to overheat, which in turn caused a catastrophic system failure.
Fortunately, I have all my files backed up on my external drive, but it's been a total PITA getting the hardware issues repaired, and then restoring all the OS and files.
Still, better than losing the whole shebang forever.
I Don't Think That I Can Take It, Because It Took So Long To Bake It, And I'll Never Have That Recipe Again
Well, I've survived (barely) the birthday celebration of last evening. Although it wasn't a large turnout, it was definitely the creme d' la creme: John Galt, Stan The Man, Verotica 143, Si I., Johnny Starball, Ira at Lower Level, all the CHACsters, those of you who couldn't attend but sent greetings of the day, and especially to the Three Greatest Gals In The Entire Universe: Molly Sue, for the mostest delicious chocolate cake EVER!; Lisa V, for dinner and cruise directing, and D-Braz for making sure my sleepy, stumbley self got home safe, and tucked in snug.
You All Are The Best!
P.S. Chocolate cake for breakfast seems to work wonders for the old soggy brain-pan.
If I don't see you when the bonfires are burning, burning
I guess I was a little keyed up last night after reading spooky stories (either that or I was suffering a mild anxiety attack after misplacing my cell phone), OR it had something to do with turning 45 today, but in any event, it was an evening fraught with a rather large number of extremely vivid dreams:
1. Running - not from or to anything particular -- in one of those old-fashioned driving outfits: leather duster, snap brim cap, goggles & oversized gloves.
2. At a party with a bunch of my friends. Telling them how much I appreciated their friendship.
3. Escaping from pirates on a jury-rigged catamaran, as arrows & bullets whizzed past my head.
4. Drowning on my own boat right next to the pier, due to a faulty D-ring that kept me secured to one of the jack lines in the cockpit (normally a very sensible safety precaution).
5. Saying a tearfull goodbye to my grandfather (who didn't look a bit like either of my late grandfathers) in some sort of departure lounge.
6. Rescuing a bunch of people from a burning building.
Now, remembering one or two dreams a night may be the norm, but six? That's got to be some sort of personal record. Perhaps my recollections were enhanced by the fact that I woke up immediately after each dream, thus enabling the conscious side of my brain to make note of some of the details for later reference.
I'm sure a Freudian analyst would have a field day interpreting all this, but I'll just chalk it up to the fact that it is also a New Moon, as well as Feile na Marbh, the second day of the Feast of Samhuinn, the celebration of the Celtic New Year, when, according to Druidic mythology the great shield of Scathach, the legendary warrior-princess, was lowered from the sky, causing a rift between the natural and supernatural worlds to open, and thus allowing the living and the dead to come together to welcome the end of impending darkness and the gradual return of light and warmth.
Of course, I also can't discount the possibility that the stir fried tofu and the meatball soup I had for dinner last night just didn't agree with me.
But regardless, if you're of a mind, give a sprig from the mistletoe to some deserving soul. Leave the unharvested fruit for the fairie folk to eat. Douse the hearth fire, and set out the food and drink. We'll be by shortly with a burning ember from the bone-fire to rekindle the flame for another year.