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Stage Two: Production Manager
Published by square May 11th, 2006 in RantsI got elected as the Production Manager for the Auckland University Drama Society, Stage Two! It’s an executive position which means I have voting rights! Hoorah!
Initial thoughts on the people that make up Stage Two - Quirky, Eclectic and Unique. Man, arty people can be soooo weird - and usually a sack of fun!
Strangely, Stage Two isn’t as vibrant or eventful as Act One, but who knows… maybe this will be the year…
I just realised that I should probably create some sort of a hook to sign off my blog entries.
Or maybe not.
13 Responses to “Stage Two: Production Manager”
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Congratulations!
Any background to the name ‘Stage Two’?
I don’t actually know - and I’d wager that the people in it don’t either… But I should find out, shouldn’t I?
Oh really, fool?
The name ‘Stage Two’ comes from the club’s (ancient…shhhh) origins in the murky backwaters of the Stage Two year-long Theatre class. Which used to be the only Theatre paper offered at this University. Sigh. Cough. Hack.
…In which you do a play-like, and pretty much figure out you-don-need-no-middle-man…
Even though we now pose as said middle man.
…
It’s all a bit much, really. Flail.
Shakespeare’s bust cake competitions? Let’s DO eeeet.
Love,
A-partial-sack-of-fun.
Hmmm. Oedipa, oedipa, oedipa… Have we met? I feel like I’ve come across your name somewhere before but… I can’t place you.
But what I do know is that apparently, you’re female, 20, studying a bachelor’s degree in film and theatre at uni auckland, and that you share the same name as the protagonist in The Crying of Lot 49, or are using a moniker. You’re obviously in Stage Two.
So, who are you Oedipa?
You know, I bet I have met you before and I’m just making an arse out of myself by not recognising who you are.
Ah well.
And boy. Are you random. There was more packed in that comment of yours than there is in Tolkien entire literary career. Fucking hell.
Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm…
A nimble fingered MySpace rifler, are we?
Well… MY father’s a policeman.
So.
There.
(…I can’t really back that up…)
Not too sure whether fuzzy ol’ Tolkien would appreciate being compared to someone who can’t form proper sentences. [EG: See comment regarding Peter Gallagher’s monobrow and/or love of James Spader.]
As much as I love appearing unnecessarily mysterious, I’m sure if you re-read the last email you received from Stage2 you’ll realise how you know the name.
And that yes, you have met me before.
I think I was hiding behind my hair/hands/other-face at the time, though.
“Is it MAGIC popcorn? Does it produce some sort of dizzying high??”,
Oedipa a.k.a. ’somtime-hessian-container-of-fun’
Gaaaah. Spelling.
Pardon.
Serves me right for calling myself a ‘fun-container’.
Actually sleep-tastically boring.
Relizinng-speelng-is-sily-and-letng-the-momant-paass.
…
…
Gone.
I am still curious as to the reason for the name of ‘Stage 2″.
Nimble fingered I sure am… And digging up information over the internet is such an easy thing nowadays, it’s almost not worth the effort.
So, daughter of a maybe-Policeman, what do you smoke? Can I get some? I’d love to be able to write like you. And no, I’m not being sarcastic. Seriously. Where do you get your produce from?
Sara(h)?
P/S I wouldn’t be worried about spelling if I wrote like you.
Questions as they appear:
a) Benson & Hedges Extra Mild.
b) Sure, at any participating retail outlet and/or vending machine. (The latter often charges more, however.)
c) Produce? Like fruit and vegetables?
Well… a combination of the delightful Pak’N'Save, Glen Innes, and the Sunhill Greengrocer on the main St Heliers Bay Rd intersection. Cough. Yes.
d) Sarah, yes. Or any one of the following: Coral, Binty, Tart-Face, Sandwich-Bag, Beer-Wench, Ogre, Biscuits, Firstborn etc.etc. …But it really depends on who’s asking.
A side-note: And hey! Hey! Hey! No more whinging about having no friends in Auckland. If you get this before tomorrow lunch-time, text me on 021 126 1569 and Catherine (’The Secretary’) and I (’The Emailing One’) will try and meet up wit’yall after Classics for some cheap-o vegetarian cusine, made by our fine Hare Krishna compatriots. And some general bitching about Classics 220/320/!@#/720. Or whatever it’s called. Sheesh. (!)
Ta, “Neko-Case’s-Broken-Lipstick”
P.S. If you wrote like me, you’d have a LOT more to worry about than spelling… *sigh*
P.P.S. And ‘(very) old vic’, the answer to all you desire is in the third post from the top. My first one. Yesh. (Stage Two, like ‘year two’, aw-roight?)
You know… for one who was somewhat apprehensive about my internet sleuthing capabilities/activities, you’re very non-chalant with your mobile number…
I’d hate to be your dissertation supervisor. Imagine that. Gawd.
By the way. Sarah, I’d like to invite you to join page22… Have a look and see if you’re keen.
I think you’d be great… What with the non-tangential turrets-like ramblings… Fantastic!
Thanks.
..and..a poem as reward..
maggie and milly and molly and may
by E. E. Cummings
10
maggie and milly and molly and may
went down to the beach(to play one day)
and maggie discovered a shell that sang
so sweetly she couldn’t remember her troubles,and
milly befriended a stranded star
whose rays five languid fingers were;
and molly was chased by a horrible thing
which raced sideways while blowing bubbles:and
may came home with a smooth round stone
as small as a world and as large as alone.
For whatever we lose(like a you or a me)
it’s always ourselves we find in the sea