multitudes

• You have control issues. If you can't control something, you try to stop it from happening.

• You have a very forceful personality. Your intensity washes over people like a wave.
  
  
• You're very persuasive.
  
  
• I knew you'd have good advice.
  
  
• You make the house nice.
  
  
• You are doing phenomenal work.
  
  
• You know you have a nickname around the office, right? "Demanda."
  
  
• You're one of the funniest people I know.
  
  
• You're an awesome improvisor.
  
  
• People are afraid to take you on.

Things people have said about me in the past that mean a lot to me:

• You are one of the most creative people I know.
  
  
• You are kind.
  

"The world needs dreamers and the world needs doers. But above all, the world needs dreamers who do."
-Sarah Ban Breathnach

Last night someone tried to convince me that it's harder to find strong women improvisors - that too many women are afraid to play anything other than "the pretty one." I call bullshit on this. I have never met a woman improvisor who fits that description. Given, my experiences are limited to a year's worth of classes with one DC improv theater, but it outrages me that a discussion would even be framed in this way. The person was quick to qualify that of course there were plenty of bad male improvisors, too. Well, yeah. I personally am tired of seeing a testosterone parade on stage - I see performance after performance with six or seven men and maybe one woman. I was talking to some friends about this and someone said that, "yeah, well, improv is pretty much a white guy thing." Why is that?

I'll come back to this topic. For now, an article I found about women bashing in Chicago improv:
Carnival of Misfit Toys

Adult cynicism (or just plain knowledge) has knocked a lot of things off their pedestals - but not the Oscars. I am still like a teenage girl when they come on. The day they air, I wake up excited, and feel compelled to plan some sort of festive viewing arrangement; this year, it's a bottle of champagne, some of my coziest clothes, and spaghetti and meatballs a la husband. I'm logged in to the live discussion on washingtonpost.com. I'm Tivo'ing the red carpet pre-show for a good 40 minutes before I start watching, so I can skip all commercials with confidence through the entire evening. I haven't even seen most of the nominated movies - but of course that's not the point. It used to be - I was crushed when Tommy Lee Jones (Fugitive) beat out Ralph Fiennes (Schindler's List). Now I know it's not about art, so my expectations are adjusted accordingly; I just love the spectacle. The glitz. And yes, I imagine myself on that red carpet, looking glamorous, feeling unstoppable. It's nice to have a little fantasy once in a while.

There's a movement afoot to save the Source Theater on 14th St. NW - specifically, to preserve the building as an arts space instead of selling it to Bedrock Bars. Last night I attended an ANC meeting - my first - where the issue was on the agenda. The hope was that enough of us would show up to convince the ANC of the community's concern over the sale. It worked - they approved a motion to officially oppose the sale, and will be urging Mayor Williams and DC Councilmember Jim Graham to initiate legal action against the sale. They will also attempt to meet with the Bedrock company to see if they're open to working with the city to find another space. For more background on the sale, check out my friend Jaime's site, Stop, Blog and Roll; to follow the story moving forward, and/or to sign a petition opposing the sale, check out the Save Our Source blog.