Getting Ready- Before the Wedding
The day that every girl has dreamed of is finally here. As a child, I used to pretend it was my wedding day. Now that it my day was finally here. I wanted to be absolutely flawless. The staple of weddings is the cake. Anybody can pay a small fortune for a gorgeous dress, but only the select few can have a stunning, dazzling cake. I was determined to have that cake. So, I hired the most famous cake designer in all of Paris to design my cake. I wanted it to be perfect, down the details of the couple at the top. I knew François de Chegalle would be able the creation of such a work of art. The cake would be a surprise for my fiancée and me after the reception today.
The Ceremony
The setting was chimerical. It was set under a flowered canopy along the Seine, facing the Eiffel Tower at sunset. Two hundred and fifty guests watched me in the night I have dreamed about for years. The ceremony was flawless. I couldn’t be happier. Throughout the ceremony, I fantasized about the beautiful cake that would be awaiting the boat on which our reception was being held. This was how I always imagined it. A magnificent cake on a river cruise down the Seine towards the glistening, gleaming, glowing Eiffel Tower, with a perfect husband and our two hundred and fifty closest friends
The Reception- After the Wedding
The Seine was perfectly pacific, only a gentle breaking of the wave along the side of the boat. The sun had set. In its place was a luminous moon that was glowing even brighter than the sun. The Eiffel Tower slowly tiptoed towards the awed guests. The dinner had been this fantastic chicken dish that de Chegalle had created. It wasn’t a soufflé, but it actually was better than a soufflé. It was time for what I had really been dreaming about. Suddenly, all two hundred and fifty heads turned, five hundred eyes glazed over in amazement. Determined screaming came from the kitchen where all of the delicious food has been streaming out consistently for the past two hours. All five hundred ears heard: ‘Do you realize what these mice have done? My cake is ruined.’
It was then I started to cry, tears flowing down my face, my makeup ruined. Instead of looking like a princess, I looked like a zombie bride out of a bad horror movie. The food tasted stale. The most perfect night of my life crashed and burned in a matter of seconds. I looked at de Chegalle, anguish his over ruined creation that was like a baby to him and the cake that had dreamed of for years had been ruined. Tears were nearly flowing down his face nearly as fast as they were down mine. I ran to the captain and yelled at him to pull the boat over. When he protested that we weren’t near a dock, I screamed that it didn’t matter. The night was over. I didn’t want any more catastrophes added to the already growing list that accumulated over the past few, wretched minutes. My heart was writhing with sorrow and anger for the combustion that occurred this evening. The boat pulled over. With my heels in hand I rand on the mud, trailing my once perfectly snow white dress now stricken with dirt.
Saturday, February 21, 2009
Monday, February 16, 2009
Wedding Paper- WA 5 Draft 1
1 Hour before the Reception:
Everyone is at the ceremony. A quiet blanket of love covered the wide, varied patchwork of the friends and family. The ceremony kindled fond memories for the to- be newly- weds. While serenity coats the chapel, chaos is wired throughout the kitchen. As the caterer, we get the length of the wedding to set up. My staff is obediently following my commands. My stress level is rising, my blood boiling like water in the pasta pot on the stove. The food was prepared ahead of time, but it has to be finalized and made presentable. The life of a caterer is hectic- the available resources at different venues are unknown until our arrival, so we hope the kitchen will have what we need.
45 Minutes before the Reception:
The soufflé burnt. Each oven’s internal temperature is different, even when it reads the same. Unknowingly, the once beautifully crafted soufflé is now a horrendously tragic pile of ash. As the head caterer, it is my responsibility to make sure that the wedding party never finds out about all of the inevitable mishaps that occur in the kitchen as the reception looms. My staff also must never sense my racing, accelerating adrenaline. In forty-five minutes, I must recreate a major dish with what was in the kitchen. There wasn’t enough time for a trip to the grocery store. The smells of the different dishes being heated are vigorously swirling around the little kitchen with such force that I was worried that it might knock over the pièce- de- renaissance: the four tiered, alternating chocolate- vanilla level wedding cake. The icing was created from a family recipe that has been in my family for one hundred years. Intricate rosettes and individual sugar snowflakes dance around the cake. The bride and groom on the tope were crafted to look identical to the almost newlyweds down to the details of the bride’s dress and the scuff on the right side of the heel of groom’s left, black loafer. My masterpiece sat, perched on the counter. Merely looking at it gives me the energy to recreate the ruined soufflé. Making and preparing dinner for two hundred and fifty guests can be stressful. With the time clicking downwards, the steep incline of preparing and getting the food ready immediately comes to a halt when the hungry guests arrive. The end is in sight, with 44 minutes left, and I shake off the anxiety and start scavenging around the kitchen for ingredients to make a replacement dish.
15 Minutes before the Reception:
I managed to create chicken morengo with chicken breasts, white wine, olives, garlic and tomatoes that were in the pantry. As the timer approaches single digits, the waitressing staff frantically lines up the appetizer plates, yelling and screaming for the lack of certain plates distracted me from the real issue at hand until the reception was already underway.
90 Minutes after the Reception Began:
The meal had gone according to plan, regardless of the different gradations of setbacks along the way. When it was time for me to bring out my prized wedding cake, I noticed a broken snowflake lying in the middle of a trail of white icing leading in no particular direction other than disaster. I followed the path away from the now dilapidated cake on the counter. In it I found a waiter nursing one mother mouse and five, furless, pink baby mice.
‘Sir, look at these adorable baby mice I found. They can’t be more than six hours old! I’ve already named them. The mother is Shaniqua Shanéné, this baby mouse is Hanschen Ernst, this is Quashan Scarface, for the cute little scar right here. Do you see it, Sir?’
‘Yes I see it!’ I screamed. Tears began flowing like a sink faucet. I felt like a little kid again.
‘Do you realize what these mice have done? My cake is ruined.’
All of the waiters and cooks, all two hundred and fifty guests looked at me and the cake. It was then how pointless this job was. Spending hours of careful, affectionate deliberation on something that would be destroyed anyway. That cake was full of my life that I had poured into it, as well as my family’s history. Just because it wasn’t the guests of the party that had enjoyed it the outcome was the same.
I never baked another cake again.
Everyone is at the ceremony. A quiet blanket of love covered the wide, varied patchwork of the friends and family. The ceremony kindled fond memories for the to- be newly- weds. While serenity coats the chapel, chaos is wired throughout the kitchen. As the caterer, we get the length of the wedding to set up. My staff is obediently following my commands. My stress level is rising, my blood boiling like water in the pasta pot on the stove. The food was prepared ahead of time, but it has to be finalized and made presentable. The life of a caterer is hectic- the available resources at different venues are unknown until our arrival, so we hope the kitchen will have what we need.
45 Minutes before the Reception:
The soufflé burnt. Each oven’s internal temperature is different, even when it reads the same. Unknowingly, the once beautifully crafted soufflé is now a horrendously tragic pile of ash. As the head caterer, it is my responsibility to make sure that the wedding party never finds out about all of the inevitable mishaps that occur in the kitchen as the reception looms. My staff also must never sense my racing, accelerating adrenaline. In forty-five minutes, I must recreate a major dish with what was in the kitchen. There wasn’t enough time for a trip to the grocery store. The smells of the different dishes being heated are vigorously swirling around the little kitchen with such force that I was worried that it might knock over the pièce- de- renaissance: the four tiered, alternating chocolate- vanilla level wedding cake. The icing was created from a family recipe that has been in my family for one hundred years. Intricate rosettes and individual sugar snowflakes dance around the cake. The bride and groom on the tope were crafted to look identical to the almost newlyweds down to the details of the bride’s dress and the scuff on the right side of the heel of groom’s left, black loafer. My masterpiece sat, perched on the counter. Merely looking at it gives me the energy to recreate the ruined soufflé. Making and preparing dinner for two hundred and fifty guests can be stressful. With the time clicking downwards, the steep incline of preparing and getting the food ready immediately comes to a halt when the hungry guests arrive. The end is in sight, with 44 minutes left, and I shake off the anxiety and start scavenging around the kitchen for ingredients to make a replacement dish.
15 Minutes before the Reception:
I managed to create chicken morengo with chicken breasts, white wine, olives, garlic and tomatoes that were in the pantry. As the timer approaches single digits, the waitressing staff frantically lines up the appetizer plates, yelling and screaming for the lack of certain plates distracted me from the real issue at hand until the reception was already underway.
90 Minutes after the Reception Began:
The meal had gone according to plan, regardless of the different gradations of setbacks along the way. When it was time for me to bring out my prized wedding cake, I noticed a broken snowflake lying in the middle of a trail of white icing leading in no particular direction other than disaster. I followed the path away from the now dilapidated cake on the counter. In it I found a waiter nursing one mother mouse and five, furless, pink baby mice.
‘Sir, look at these adorable baby mice I found. They can’t be more than six hours old! I’ve already named them. The mother is Shaniqua Shanéné, this baby mouse is Hanschen Ernst, this is Quashan Scarface, for the cute little scar right here. Do you see it, Sir?’
‘Yes I see it!’ I screamed. Tears began flowing like a sink faucet. I felt like a little kid again.
‘Do you realize what these mice have done? My cake is ruined.’
All of the waiters and cooks, all two hundred and fifty guests looked at me and the cake. It was then how pointless this job was. Spending hours of careful, affectionate deliberation on something that would be destroyed anyway. That cake was full of my life that I had poured into it, as well as my family’s history. Just because it wasn’t the guests of the party that had enjoyed it the outcome was the same.
I never baked another cake again.
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Obama Letter- Gay Rights (WA 4 Draft 2)
Dear President Obama,
I am very glad to have you in office because I feel you will greatly deal with the issues today in the US and overseas. People assume that prejudices and racism in the US ended with desegregation. The media focuses on international conflicts, such as the Arab/ Israel conflict. Prejudices in the US has not ended, it has become more sly in is constantly present. Religious Christians argue that homosexual marriage goes against the Bible. When did religion govern the laws? In a Bible- steeped society, all though not all are willing to admit this, prejudices towards gays and lesbians is as present as ever. As president, I feel you should draw attention to this national issue, and not just to the international issues. Until the 20th century, a person of African descent could not marry a white person. When laws began to allow people with different skin colors to marry, it was seen as a gargantuan step in American history. Now the difference is between the genders of the couples, not the color of the skin. Why is it the US can determine who loves each other and whether or not they can legally show it?
In most professions, if benefits are available for employees, it is also available for spouses. For most jobs, ‘spouse’ means legally married partner, but in all states, gay and lesbian couples can not legally get married. This makes gay or lesbian partners of employees unable to receive the same treatment as the society deemed ‘normal’ spouse. Even though most universities and other companies are privately owned, if the government could pressure them, or at least raise awareness of the predjustices towards gay and lesbian couples, maybe organizations would change their policies. The government could also work to pass the Employment Non Discrimination Act (ENDA), which is currently not in place in any state. Currently, in every state, it is legal fire people for their sexual orientation. ENDA prohibits the firing of employees for their sexual orientation. The Don't Ask Don't Tell policy restricts the employment of gay and lesbian soldiers in the military. Seeing that the military is the largest employer in the United States, gay and lesbians should have equal opprotunity to be a part of defending the country we all live in.
African Americans and women have had a long, public history of suffrage, so much that there are entire seminar courses, novels- both fiction and not- and films about it. The only thing comparable in gay and lesbian history is a very Hollywood-ized film about Harvey Milk, the first openly gay politician to be elected to public office, a very elite group. He was then assassinated for his sexuality. Part of why there can’t be more about gay and lesbian history is because throughout world history, gays have been suppressed. In fact, gays have been persecuted almost as frequently as Jews. Gays were sent to Hitler’s concentration camps in World War II by the thousands. As president, I feel it is crucial to make America an environment where gays can live with equal rights. People feel like they can deny gays rights because unlike being black or a woman, your sexuality is something that isn’t visible when looked at, making it- in some people’s minds- a quality, like hair color or clothes that can be changed easily. This has made life for gays in most communities feel very sheltered, distant and unhappy because they can’t be themselves. Republicans say that gay marriage is unconstitutional; marriage should be a heterosexual relationship. In reality, gay marriage goes against the Bible, not the constitution. In American society, sometimes the lines get blurred. America is built on the famous Jefferson quote from the Declaration of Independence “All men are created equal… life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.” You briefly reflected on these ideas in your inauguration speech the ideals in which the United States was built on:
We remain a young nation, but in the words of Scripture, the time has come to set aside childish things. The time has come to reaffirm our enduring spirit; to choose our better history; to carry forward that precious gift, that noble idea, passed on from generation to generation: the God-given promise that all are equal, all are free and all deserve a chance to pursue their full measure of happiness.
I am hoping that you will bring our nation past its childhood phase into a more mature phase, a more open minded phase in history. It’s time for change.
Sincerely, Sara Cohn
I am very glad to have you in office because I feel you will greatly deal with the issues today in the US and overseas. People assume that prejudices and racism in the US ended with desegregation. The media focuses on international conflicts, such as the Arab/ Israel conflict. Prejudices in the US has not ended, it has become more sly in is constantly present. Religious Christians argue that homosexual marriage goes against the Bible. When did religion govern the laws? In a Bible- steeped society, all though not all are willing to admit this, prejudices towards gays and lesbians is as present as ever. As president, I feel you should draw attention to this national issue, and not just to the international issues. Until the 20th century, a person of African descent could not marry a white person. When laws began to allow people with different skin colors to marry, it was seen as a gargantuan step in American history. Now the difference is between the genders of the couples, not the color of the skin. Why is it the US can determine who loves each other and whether or not they can legally show it?
In most professions, if benefits are available for employees, it is also available for spouses. For most jobs, ‘spouse’ means legally married partner, but in all states, gay and lesbian couples can not legally get married. This makes gay or lesbian partners of employees unable to receive the same treatment as the society deemed ‘normal’ spouse. Even though most universities and other companies are privately owned, if the government could pressure them, or at least raise awareness of the predjustices towards gay and lesbian couples, maybe organizations would change their policies. The government could also work to pass the Employment Non Discrimination Act (ENDA), which is currently not in place in any state. Currently, in every state, it is legal fire people for their sexual orientation. ENDA prohibits the firing of employees for their sexual orientation. The Don't Ask Don't Tell policy restricts the employment of gay and lesbian soldiers in the military. Seeing that the military is the largest employer in the United States, gay and lesbians should have equal opprotunity to be a part of defending the country we all live in.
African Americans and women have had a long, public history of suffrage, so much that there are entire seminar courses, novels- both fiction and not- and films about it. The only thing comparable in gay and lesbian history is a very Hollywood-ized film about Harvey Milk, the first openly gay politician to be elected to public office, a very elite group. He was then assassinated for his sexuality. Part of why there can’t be more about gay and lesbian history is because throughout world history, gays have been suppressed. In fact, gays have been persecuted almost as frequently as Jews. Gays were sent to Hitler’s concentration camps in World War II by the thousands. As president, I feel it is crucial to make America an environment where gays can live with equal rights. People feel like they can deny gays rights because unlike being black or a woman, your sexuality is something that isn’t visible when looked at, making it- in some people’s minds- a quality, like hair color or clothes that can be changed easily. This has made life for gays in most communities feel very sheltered, distant and unhappy because they can’t be themselves. Republicans say that gay marriage is unconstitutional; marriage should be a heterosexual relationship. In reality, gay marriage goes against the Bible, not the constitution. In American society, sometimes the lines get blurred. America is built on the famous Jefferson quote from the Declaration of Independence “All men are created equal… life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.” You briefly reflected on these ideas in your inauguration speech the ideals in which the United States was built on:
We remain a young nation, but in the words of Scripture, the time has come to set aside childish things. The time has come to reaffirm our enduring spirit; to choose our better history; to carry forward that precious gift, that noble idea, passed on from generation to generation: the God-given promise that all are equal, all are free and all deserve a chance to pursue their full measure of happiness.
I am hoping that you will bring our nation past its childhood phase into a more mature phase, a more open minded phase in history. It’s time for change.
Sincerely, Sara Cohn
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Obama Letter- Gay Rights (WA 4 Draft 1)
Dear Mr. Obama,
People assume that predjustices and racism in the US ended with desegregation. The media focuses on international racism, i.e. the Arab/ Israel conflict. Racism in the US has not ended, it has become more sly in is constantly present. In a Bible- steeped society, predjustices towards gays and lesbians is as present as ever. Attention should be turned to this national issue, and not just to the international issues. Until the 20th century, a person of African descent could not marry a white person. When laws began to allow people with different skin colors to marry, it was seen as a gargantuan step in American history. Now the difference is between the genders of the couples, not the color of the skin. Why is it the US can determine who loves each other and whether or not they can legally show it?
In most professions, if benefits are available for employees, it is also available for spouses. For most jobs, ‘spouse’ means legally married partner, but in all states, gay and lesbian couples can not legally get married. This makes gay or lesbian partners of employees unable to receive the same treatment as the society deemed ‘normal’ spouse. This has been an issue my entire life, because as the daughter of a lesbian couple, I have one mom that works at the University of Virginia, but because she is not my biological mother, I, nor my brother or sister or our mom, are qualify for the health care that children in other families with one parent employed at the university receive. My biological mother is a self employed therapist, so benefits are not available in her line of work. My parents have been together for over 25 years, but in the eyes of UVa, they haven’t. Even though most universities and other companies are privately owned, if the government could pressure them, or at least raise awareness of the predjustices towards gay and lesbian couples, maybe organizations would change their policies.
African Americans and women have had a long, public history of suffrage, so much that there are entire seminar courses, novels- both fiction and not- and films about it. The only thing comparable in gay and lesbian history is a very Hollywood-ized film about Harvey Milk, the first openly gay politician to be elected to public office, a very elite group. He was then assassinated for his sexuality. Part of why there can’t be more about gay and lesbian history is because throughout world history, gays have been suppressed. In fact, gays have been persecuted almost as frequently as Jews. Gays were sent to Hitler’s concentration camps in World War II by the thousands. As president, I feel it is crucial to make America an environment where gays can live with equal rights. People feel like they can deny gays rights because unlike being black or a woman, your sexuality is something that isn’t visible when looked at, making it- in some people’s minds- a quality, like hair color or clothes that can be changed easily. This has made life for gays in most communities feel very sheltered, distant and unhappy because they can’t be themselves. Republicans say that gay marriage is unconstitutional; marriage should be a heterosexual relationship. In reality, gay marriage goes against the Bible, not the constitution. In American society, sometimes the lines get blurred. America is built on the famous Jefferson quote from the Declaration of Independence “All men are created equal… life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.” The constricting society today already goes against all of Jefferson’s points in which this country is built on. If America, with the help of its president, can change its attitude and perception of gays, other countries will follow suit. It’s time for change.
Sincerly,
Sara Cohn
People assume that predjustices and racism in the US ended with desegregation. The media focuses on international racism, i.e. the Arab/ Israel conflict. Racism in the US has not ended, it has become more sly in is constantly present. In a Bible- steeped society, predjustices towards gays and lesbians is as present as ever. Attention should be turned to this national issue, and not just to the international issues. Until the 20th century, a person of African descent could not marry a white person. When laws began to allow people with different skin colors to marry, it was seen as a gargantuan step in American history. Now the difference is between the genders of the couples, not the color of the skin. Why is it the US can determine who loves each other and whether or not they can legally show it?
In most professions, if benefits are available for employees, it is also available for spouses. For most jobs, ‘spouse’ means legally married partner, but in all states, gay and lesbian couples can not legally get married. This makes gay or lesbian partners of employees unable to receive the same treatment as the society deemed ‘normal’ spouse. This has been an issue my entire life, because as the daughter of a lesbian couple, I have one mom that works at the University of Virginia, but because she is not my biological mother, I, nor my brother or sister or our mom, are qualify for the health care that children in other families with one parent employed at the university receive. My biological mother is a self employed therapist, so benefits are not available in her line of work. My parents have been together for over 25 years, but in the eyes of UVa, they haven’t. Even though most universities and other companies are privately owned, if the government could pressure them, or at least raise awareness of the predjustices towards gay and lesbian couples, maybe organizations would change their policies.
African Americans and women have had a long, public history of suffrage, so much that there are entire seminar courses, novels- both fiction and not- and films about it. The only thing comparable in gay and lesbian history is a very Hollywood-ized film about Harvey Milk, the first openly gay politician to be elected to public office, a very elite group. He was then assassinated for his sexuality. Part of why there can’t be more about gay and lesbian history is because throughout world history, gays have been suppressed. In fact, gays have been persecuted almost as frequently as Jews. Gays were sent to Hitler’s concentration camps in World War II by the thousands. As president, I feel it is crucial to make America an environment where gays can live with equal rights. People feel like they can deny gays rights because unlike being black or a woman, your sexuality is something that isn’t visible when looked at, making it- in some people’s minds- a quality, like hair color or clothes that can be changed easily. This has made life for gays in most communities feel very sheltered, distant and unhappy because they can’t be themselves. Republicans say that gay marriage is unconstitutional; marriage should be a heterosexual relationship. In reality, gay marriage goes against the Bible, not the constitution. In American society, sometimes the lines get blurred. America is built on the famous Jefferson quote from the Declaration of Independence “All men are created equal… life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.” The constricting society today already goes against all of Jefferson’s points in which this country is built on. If America, with the help of its president, can change its attitude and perception of gays, other countries will follow suit. It’s time for change.
Sincerly,
Sara Cohn
Saturday, November 29, 2008
War and Peace Draft 2
To a world that never seems deprived of death and war, peace seems unattainable, a measly idea that idyllics can dream about and cynics discourage by saying that is foolish. In society today, peace is a foolish dream. In a world were there is always the other side, the enemy, is peace really attainable? With the primal instinct of always wanting to be right and to be the best, peace can never happen. People always must be right, and the quest to prove that often leads to war. But is war programmed in humans, or is carefully taught? A famous Rodgers and Hammerstein song says that hate is carefully taught to young children. If hate is never taught, would peace occur? Peace can be talked about, fantasized about, but is it to late to achieve global peace because to many people have been taught to hate? Has the world famous feeling of love become the world famous feeling of hate? Peace can happen; it’s not just an idea or a foolish dream.
By creating such a long tradition of war, peace seems impossible to most. Since the American Revolution, people think that fighting can get them what they want. Has this idea that war leads to freedom and peace been drilled into the heads of children for so long that that is all the human race knows? People can talk about peace all they want, but without any actions taken, does it matter what people say? If a famed painter says he has a new style of painting, does it count if he never divulges what that style is or paints that way? No. Does it count if Pulitzer winning author says that they have a new storylines and characters for a new play, but never writes it? No. The media can publish so many stories that it seems like the play should have been written, but if it never is, the characters never become people and the story doesn’t make an impact. Every generation that passes without any actions taken towards creating one peaceful earth is another generation that forgets about peace in the same way that the new painting style that was never painted and the unwritten play would be forgotten. Every generation that passes without any actions towards peace, peace fades farther and farther into the background like old photographs of deceased family members. The idea of peace dies faster and faster, and in its place is war and hate.
In order for war not to claim victory over peace, no one can forget the horrors of wars past; the horrors of wars present and the horrors of wars to come, the brutality of war cannot be forgotten. With every war that occurs, the people on earth, no matter where they stand on the issue, become more and more sterile towards those affected. When it comes to war, everybody is the enemy against peace and nobody is right, everyone is wrong. War cannot prevail over peace, and in order for this not to happen, everybody needs to come together and fight against making peace a foolish dream.
By creating such a long tradition of war, peace seems impossible to most. Since the American Revolution, people think that fighting can get them what they want. Has this idea that war leads to freedom and peace been drilled into the heads of children for so long that that is all the human race knows? People can talk about peace all they want, but without any actions taken, does it matter what people say? If a famed painter says he has a new style of painting, does it count if he never divulges what that style is or paints that way? No. Does it count if Pulitzer winning author says that they have a new storylines and characters for a new play, but never writes it? No. The media can publish so many stories that it seems like the play should have been written, but if it never is, the characters never become people and the story doesn’t make an impact. Every generation that passes without any actions taken towards creating one peaceful earth is another generation that forgets about peace in the same way that the new painting style that was never painted and the unwritten play would be forgotten. Every generation that passes without any actions towards peace, peace fades farther and farther into the background like old photographs of deceased family members. The idea of peace dies faster and faster, and in its place is war and hate.
In order for war not to claim victory over peace, no one can forget the horrors of wars past; the horrors of wars present and the horrors of wars to come, the brutality of war cannot be forgotten. With every war that occurs, the people on earth, no matter where they stand on the issue, become more and more sterile towards those affected. When it comes to war, everybody is the enemy against peace and nobody is right, everyone is wrong. War cannot prevail over peace, and in order for this not to happen, everybody needs to come together and fight against making peace a foolish dream.
Sunday, November 23, 2008
War and Peace Draft 1
To a world that never seems deprived of death and war, peace seems unattainable, a measly idea that idyllics can dream about and cynics discourage by saying that is foolish. That is what peace is to people today--- a foolish dream. In a world were there is always the other side, the enemy. With the primal instinct of always wanting to be right and to be the best, peace can never happen. It can be talked about and dreamed by idyllics and cynics can discourage. People need to realize that peace can happen; it’s not just an idea or a foolish dream. Daily, papers and television news shows reports the death tolls, disabandoned people count, the increasingly high rape numbers of girls and a very young age. Conflicts between multiple countries and threats being made of having nuclear weapons appear routinely. There are never any stories of countries trying to help suffering countries without the use of bullets and bombs. Bullets and bombs are not the answer, and no matter how cliché it sounds, it never is any less true.
By creating such a long tradition of war, peace seems impossible. It is not impossible. People can talk about it all they want, but without any actions taken, does it matter what people say? If a famed painter says he has a new style of painting, does it count if he never divulges what that style is or paints that way? No. Does it count if Pulitzer winning author says that they have a new play, but never writes it? No. Every generation that passes without any actions taken towards creating one peaceful earth is another generation that forgets about peace in the same way that the new painting style that was never painted and the unwritten play would be forgotten. Every generation that passes without any actions towards peace, peace fades farther and farther into the background like old photographs of deceased family members. The idea of peace dies faster and faster, and in its place is war and hate.
In order for war not to claim victory over peace, no one can forget the horrors of wars past; the horrors of wars present and the horrors of wars to come, the brutality of war cannot be forgotten. With every war that occurs, the people on earth, no matter where they stand on the issue, become more and more sterile towards those affected. When it comes to war, everybody is the enemy against peace and nobody is right. Everybody needs to come together and fight against making peace a forgotten ideal.
By creating such a long tradition of war, peace seems impossible. It is not impossible. People can talk about it all they want, but without any actions taken, does it matter what people say? If a famed painter says he has a new style of painting, does it count if he never divulges what that style is or paints that way? No. Does it count if Pulitzer winning author says that they have a new play, but never writes it? No. Every generation that passes without any actions taken towards creating one peaceful earth is another generation that forgets about peace in the same way that the new painting style that was never painted and the unwritten play would be forgotten. Every generation that passes without any actions towards peace, peace fades farther and farther into the background like old photographs of deceased family members. The idea of peace dies faster and faster, and in its place is war and hate.
In order for war not to claim victory over peace, no one can forget the horrors of wars past; the horrors of wars present and the horrors of wars to come, the brutality of war cannot be forgotten. With every war that occurs, the people on earth, no matter where they stand on the issue, become more and more sterile towards those affected. When it comes to war, everybody is the enemy against peace and nobody is right. Everybody needs to come together and fight against making peace a forgotten ideal.
Sunday, October 26, 2008
Anything Goes- Including Your Voice (WA-2 Final Draft)
Tuesday morning- I woke up after the first tech rehearsal with no voice. My throat was cloaked with multiple layers of sandpaper. It sounded as if I had been smoking for fifty years. Opening night for Anything Goes was Friday. As Reno, my voice was crucial. As a senior in high school with ambition in musical theatre, this role was crucial to me. I had been working my entire life for this opportunity. My step- dad was in theatre, so he started me in theatre as soon I could dance (which was practically before I could walk). I had performed my fair share of small roles from Baby June in Gypsy to Random White Girl #3 in West Side Story. Now I was Reno in Anything Goes. And I had no voice.
My step- dad, Greg, had no sympathy. He had warned me at Monday’s rehearsal not to push over the pit and the tap dancers. I would have a mic for the performances.
‘Don’t push, don’t push, don’t push,’ Greg said over and over again. I still pushed and now I have no voice.
The news of my voice spread like a tornado whipping through the cast, leaving the remains of a once fantastic musical in its wake. The director kept a calm façade and said that he would figure something out. Greg, who was the vocal coach, began rehearsing the understudy. The director found me in the hall; his dark brown eyes had a sparkle like sparks flying from coal.
‘Allyson,’ he said, ‘we got the mics.’ He simulated the pea sized mic near his ear.
I was confused; I knew that we had been fundraising for these new, wireless mics for the actors. He continued, barely giving me time to respond.
‘Well, we were only going to turn the mics on when you sing, but why don’t we just keep your mic on the entire time? That way you don’t have to strain your voice. Now get to class, I’ll see you at rehearsal!’
I almost hugged him. I was Reno. At lunch, I left school to get tea with honey for my voice. The air seemed crisper than it had when I had left for school. I called my step- dad in the car to give him the news. He was pleased, but still concerned that my voice might not come back. He also reminded me how whispering would only hurt my voice more; I should continue to talk at a normal level but drink lots of tea.
Thursday- My voice came back, but it wasn’t only Greg that was scared that I would lose it again. Now that I had my voice, the nerves kicked in. Opening night loomed closer. I knew I was prepared; we had been in rehearsal for 5 months. I just wanted to not to be Allyson. For 2 days, I just wanted to be Reno Sweeney, the glamorous night club singer.
Friday night- the lights in the audience went down. It was so dark, you couldn’t tell where the auditorium ended. The lights that were aimed at the stage looked like lasers in a rainbow of colors. I was in the lobby of the theatre with my seven ‘angels’ behind me, ready to make my dramatic entrance as Reno. The orchestra played the first chord, before going into the theme of the title song. I was shaking so hard I thought that the bobby pins in my short hair would fall out. I smiled and asked myself how many times in the course of the past five months had I heard that tune? I could have sworn my heart beat that rhythm. I stood by the door to the theatre, anxious for my cue. I finally heard ‘We want a picture of you coming up the gang plank.’ I pushed through the doors and headed towards the rainbow of laser lights, with my angels parading behind me. As I walked towards the stage, I felt the slow decline of the floor under my feet; I had to be careful not to hit the filthy orange chairs filled with audience members. I knew somewhere in the auditorium sat my mom, proud of her little girl. She was probably shaking more than me. My friends from dance school sat in those orange seats, proud of the girl that they had spent years dancing with. The three stairs that led to the stage were the hardest three steps that I ever had to climb. I was wearing character shoes, which unfortunately have an inch and half heel. I knew I could dance in those shoes better than I could climb stairs in them. I was worried my voice would be shaking who I spotted my mom sitting fourth row center. I knew the only thing that would make her breathe for the first time since that same chord in the overture that made me start to shake, would be if I nailed my first song, ‘You’re the Top.’ While Mike, who was playing Billy, sang the beginning, I began to feel less and less nervous. I hadn’t put this much work into this role to end up sounding like a sixty year old chain smoker. I sang, trying to ration my voice so it would last. At the end of the song, I was worried about how the audience perceived it. They loved it, and my mom was finally able to breathe.
Saturday Night- We had finished the final performance. There had been a Friday night, a Saturday matinee and a Saturday night. Each performance, I became more and more confident and morphed more and more into Reno. As the last curtain fell, my adrenaline was still flowing. I turned to the other actors and felt so proud of them. They were my best friends, my family. We didn’t want this to be over. After this, we would all be separated. At the cast party, I knew I wasn’t Reno anymore. I was Allyson again. The space in my stomach where the nerves had lived all weekend now felt empty. This show had been my life for five months. In the blink of an eye, it was all over.
My step- dad, Greg, had no sympathy. He had warned me at Monday’s rehearsal not to push over the pit and the tap dancers. I would have a mic for the performances.
‘Don’t push, don’t push, don’t push,’ Greg said over and over again. I still pushed and now I have no voice.
The news of my voice spread like a tornado whipping through the cast, leaving the remains of a once fantastic musical in its wake. The director kept a calm façade and said that he would figure something out. Greg, who was the vocal coach, began rehearsing the understudy. The director found me in the hall; his dark brown eyes had a sparkle like sparks flying from coal.
‘Allyson,’ he said, ‘we got the mics.’ He simulated the pea sized mic near his ear.
I was confused; I knew that we had been fundraising for these new, wireless mics for the actors. He continued, barely giving me time to respond.
‘Well, we were only going to turn the mics on when you sing, but why don’t we just keep your mic on the entire time? That way you don’t have to strain your voice. Now get to class, I’ll see you at rehearsal!’
I almost hugged him. I was Reno. At lunch, I left school to get tea with honey for my voice. The air seemed crisper than it had when I had left for school. I called my step- dad in the car to give him the news. He was pleased, but still concerned that my voice might not come back. He also reminded me how whispering would only hurt my voice more; I should continue to talk at a normal level but drink lots of tea.
Thursday- My voice came back, but it wasn’t only Greg that was scared that I would lose it again. Now that I had my voice, the nerves kicked in. Opening night loomed closer. I knew I was prepared; we had been in rehearsal for 5 months. I just wanted to not to be Allyson. For 2 days, I just wanted to be Reno Sweeney, the glamorous night club singer.
Friday night- the lights in the audience went down. It was so dark, you couldn’t tell where the auditorium ended. The lights that were aimed at the stage looked like lasers in a rainbow of colors. I was in the lobby of the theatre with my seven ‘angels’ behind me, ready to make my dramatic entrance as Reno. The orchestra played the first chord, before going into the theme of the title song. I was shaking so hard I thought that the bobby pins in my short hair would fall out. I smiled and asked myself how many times in the course of the past five months had I heard that tune? I could have sworn my heart beat that rhythm. I stood by the door to the theatre, anxious for my cue. I finally heard ‘We want a picture of you coming up the gang plank.’ I pushed through the doors and headed towards the rainbow of laser lights, with my angels parading behind me. As I walked towards the stage, I felt the slow decline of the floor under my feet; I had to be careful not to hit the filthy orange chairs filled with audience members. I knew somewhere in the auditorium sat my mom, proud of her little girl. She was probably shaking more than me. My friends from dance school sat in those orange seats, proud of the girl that they had spent years dancing with. The three stairs that led to the stage were the hardest three steps that I ever had to climb. I was wearing character shoes, which unfortunately have an inch and half heel. I knew I could dance in those shoes better than I could climb stairs in them. I was worried my voice would be shaking who I spotted my mom sitting fourth row center. I knew the only thing that would make her breathe for the first time since that same chord in the overture that made me start to shake, would be if I nailed my first song, ‘You’re the Top.’ While Mike, who was playing Billy, sang the beginning, I began to feel less and less nervous. I hadn’t put this much work into this role to end up sounding like a sixty year old chain smoker. I sang, trying to ration my voice so it would last. At the end of the song, I was worried about how the audience perceived it. They loved it, and my mom was finally able to breathe.
Saturday Night- We had finished the final performance. There had been a Friday night, a Saturday matinee and a Saturday night. Each performance, I became more and more confident and morphed more and more into Reno. As the last curtain fell, my adrenaline was still flowing. I turned to the other actors and felt so proud of them. They were my best friends, my family. We didn’t want this to be over. After this, we would all be separated. At the cast party, I knew I wasn’t Reno anymore. I was Allyson again. The space in my stomach where the nerves had lived all weekend now felt empty. This show had been my life for five months. In the blink of an eye, it was all over.
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