Where being a Theatre Major comes in Handy

To those who live under a rock in my life (aside from me), I've been majoring in Theatre in college since 2009. I have already received my Associates in Science (don't ask) in Visual and Performing arts and, at the time of this posting, am currently going for my BA in Theatre (I could've gone for a BFA in acting but I don't think "I CAN ACT!" will help when I eventually get a job that pays). Now, through these years, most of my time is spent either on stage or behind the scenes, building and deconstructing sets, painting, sewing, learning about theatre history, the works. All very fascinating and perfect for my creative, imaginative self.

So you can imagine how much I have to stifle the urge to punch someone when I have to put up with typical household things my dad throws at me. Or his "criticisms" (aka complaints or "bitching") about certain shows. Let's look at a few of them, shall we?

Task: Paint a door.
My dad goes through a laundry list of things to do before I paint: such as laying out tarp/plastic to prevent the paint from dripping on the floor, how to stir the paint, and all that. Oh gee, I must have missed that when I painted the sets for virtually every show I did at QCC, Trinity, and Brooklyn. Also, I asked, since the door was painted with paint from before the 1990's (when people thought it was a faboo idea to use LEAD in the paint) if I should sand the door to get rid of the paint. He shrugged and said if I wanted to do the effort, but to wear a dust mask. Yep, because I'm going to subject myself to lead poisoning again. Call me devil-may-care! Though, if I were richer, I'd buy a respirator, not a 5 cent paper cup. He also didn't know my mom bought a sander when she was alive (unfortunately, she bought a cheap one so it kept falling off WHILE I was sanding.)

Task: Buy a carpet.
Any one would think to measure the room before leaving to get a carpet, right? Not my dad or my brother, who went to one of the top Catholic schools in the state and is going to go to St. John's. I'm sure those sets are built willy-nilly!

Task: Paint the porch/ceiling.
Again, the same spiel only this time with painter's tape (What? You say the tape prevents the paint from getting on other surfaces? NO WAY). My dad also thinks it's a great idea to just dump the paint all over the place and go from there.
Yeah, see when that happens, you end up with a big uneven mess that gets all over the place. Unfortunately, he also bought weather resistant paint which meant I spent thirty minutes washing it off my hands with a Mr. Clean scrubber as I went to wash the paint off the rollers (something my sister cannot grasp as well, unless she wants the brush to get stale and cemented on the rollers). It left my hands raw.

You can't see but it was oozing as well.

Only our landlady offered sympathy.

Cut to painting the ceiling, a family effort which involved my beloved Aunt Mary! (She was very inquisitive about my studies, and was impressed with was I was doing at the time, and more so now). Being an artist, she knows her way around a paint brush. So it's obvious where she and I painted (nice, smooth areas) and where my dad painted (clouds!).

Seeing a show: Camp Rock, the Musical!
I went into this production mostly because of the money and the credit on my resume and also knowing that it would be watered down to what one would think is terrible blocking. But this is the scenario: We only have 10 people (5 girls, 5 boys) so parts are going to be cut, we had to whittle down the show to an hour, nobody really leaves the stage and participate in all the numbers, even rival camp members (all three of them). The approach is very similar to epic theatre (in which the production makes it obvious it's a show, changes are done in full view of the audience, people play multiple parts, etc.) so at least I found some sense in the direction we got. My dad, however, didn't like the blocking, the casting, the fact that there was no costume changes between numbers (hello! WE HAD NO TIME FOR THAT), the fact that our transitions were done by walking in front of the space.
Which made me very glad someone else directed it, and it is someone I respect greatly. She knew what she was doing and what she was getting into. A bit of a shame since I feel totally at sea with this cast. But I have to live on anyway.

After all, someone has to paint things in this house, since I have no time in the world to knock some sense into so many people.