I've been contemplating life lately, and the different ways I can live it. I've summed it up as two opposing forces in my current life situation: Netflix vs. Culture. Granted, there is a place for both. But granted, Netflix finds its place with so much more ease, and wearing sweat pants. Culture requires planning and money and actively choosing to be active. And real pants.
It's pretty crazy, though, how much happier I am on days and nights I get out and experience the world versus those days and nights I do it vicariously through a screen. I have been so tired of screens lately. Screen time all day at work. Screen time in my palm. Screen time when I relax at the end of the day. I'm amazed, sometimes, that my eyes still work. And maybe I should also be amazed that I blame my headaches on gluten? Because this screen pattern we're talking about has just got to be part of the blame here... So, living life intentionally. Even with an almost-always studying husband. It's worth the effort, and the pants.
I didn't come here to talk about that. I came here to gush about a play and a concert and how much they both made me smile this week. But the back story just kind of fell onto the page and so now you're up to speed anyways. My friend Kristin invited me to see Indy's own Kurt Vonnegut's "Who am I this Time" at the Indiana Repertory Theatre with her. I laughed so, so, so much. I want so badly for pieces of that play with the same seven actors I saw to be on YouTube so I can show those talented people to you all right here and now. There's some irony to be found in that sentiment, though, after my rant about screens... don't think about it.
Photo Cred to Kristin! |
Here's the play's description, if you want a better idea of how dreamy it was: "With a friendly stage manager as your guide, some of Vonnegut's most endearing characters wander through three charming stories searching for love and identity. Taken from his first short story collection, Welcome to the Monkey House, Who am I this Time gives us the Indy author's unique take on Small Town America."
We just loved it. I'm grateful that I grew up just a couple blocks away from the Shakespeare Festival, and grateful for parents that always took me to the comedies on top of the other plays at the festival each year. There's something so genuinely fun in laughing at talented, real life comedic timing. I really wanted Michael to be able to see this, but we caught the play in its final week and we already had plans the night of its last showing... so instead, he had to listen to me do a poor job of repeatedly trying to reenact or describe all of the little things that made me laugh in this show. Sigh.
But he didn't have to miss out once the weekend came around - we bought tickets to see Josh Ritter again, in Bloomington this time. Oh he is so great. You can't help but love watching him sing, because you can tell he is just loving being there. I just sat and thought for a moment about which song to link to for you to listen to right now, but it was too hard. So many good ones. Just go get lost in his website on your own, and pick your fave. We hadn't been down to Bloomington yet (just 45 minutes south, home of Indiana University), so we went down a few hours before the concert and spent Saturday afternoon exploring.
We went on a date with our friend Chris, until his wife made it into town just in time for the concert (baby showers in Ohio kept her away). He showed us some bookstores and we walked around IU campus, and we found some Burmese food for dinner. Their menu came with a picture book of every item, woot woot. I love knowing what I'm getting into. We also bought our first children's book that night because I can literally still hear my little niece Lydia's voice when she came and stayed with us last summer: "Maddie, where are the books?" And I had to look her in her big sweet eyes and say, "Um... we don't... have any books." And she was sad, and so was I.
So, we are now proud owners of a secondhand copy of Are You My Mother, from the beloved Dr. Seuss. Little by little we will remedy this bookless situation. Maybe until someday our house looks just like this:
A girl can dream.
Oh, and we still have this cat. She still sleeps a lot.
Sometimes we find her in boxes, or in our dresser drawers.
That's really all I wanted to say about that.