Megan's Head

A place where Megan gets off her head.

Tag: twitter (Page 2 of 3)

Multitasking

My boet always complains that his wife and his sister are the only two women in the world who can’t multitask. I can’t speak for my gorgeous, talented and amazing sister-in-law, but it really is true for me. I need to do things one at a time. I can’t even be on my laptop (or phone) in a random way and have a conversation with Big Friendly. It makes him mental. I can be mid-sentence and my phone (or the stove, or the door, or the TV) will ping, and instantly I will be distracted and lose my train of thought. I even find it hard to work on different projects at the same time. One seems to occupy all the ‘project’ space in my brain, and I struggle to keep thoughts of the other stuff on board. It’s as if they get squeezed and jostled by the big fat dominant one on duty at the time.

Also, I have been struggling with flu this week and weekend and it has meant that work wise I have been forced to do the minimum required before dragging myself back to bed. This has also meant that my writing, making little videos and all the other bits and pieces I do have lapsed a bit. So I have been on and , a lot. Are they not the most arbitrary, fun and useless time wasters?

One of the most amazing things about now time is how rehearsals have changed. Four out of five of my cast have Blackberrys, and whenever they are off-stage they are BBM’ing, tweeting, or facebook messaging; sometimes even to me, sitting right there in the rehearsal room. We watch videos on , share jokes that are flying through the ethernet,  pass on download info and even google stuff to just make sure.

But for me it is hard. I need to to one thing, or the other. So if I get sucked in to a message on my phone I get spat out of what ever else it is I should be doing, like watching my rehearsal, or following the text. It’s almost as if I leave an energetic black hole where I was, and then have to come back to it, but time is lost. It feels like all of present tense is changing, and we are all less ‘in’ the actual moment. Well, I certainly am. I am going to have to factor in phone down time. Tomorrow.

What’s in My Bad Mood?

I have woken up with a rage hangover this morning. I am still fuming about my night last night and I am not really sure where to even begin.

Let’s go with why I was motivated to start meganshead in the first place. I wanted to warn Capetonians about bad theatre (and cheer them on to see good stuff, it must be said). Now this one is particularly hard for me because of how I feel about The Kalk Bay Theatre. It is categorically my favourite theatre in Cape Town. It is independent, beautiful, brilliantly managed. It is where I love to see theatre and make theatre. I want the theatre to do brilliantly.

But now I need to say what I feel about the first half of the show that opened there last night, “What’s In a Name?”. And here is a warning; if you loved it, do not read further, because I am going to be saying some very harsh stuff.

Right up front, I was absolutely relieved to discover that there were two halves. This meant I could leave at interval without making a spectacle of myself. Everything I say will only be about the first hellish forty or so minutes, but I swear it is enough.

What’s In a Name is trying to be a cabaret(?) performed by Delray Burns and Roland Perold and directed by Garth Tavares, and apparently choreographed(?) by Delray. What it actually is is a completely random collection of ‘trying to be funny’ songs that have nothing to do with anything, including the meaningless title of the show. What it is trying to be is a showcase for two young performers (like a live showreel to offer what they can do), but what it becomes is a beyond irritating, badly sung, horribly characterised, cartoon version of itself. Hell on an audience, not in the least funny, and so badly done I was squirming in my love seat in the back row. Fifty Delray costume changes later (a light up bra being the only highlight, ‘scuse the pun), a hideous “lights up” audience participation section where I could not hide my disgust in the dark, a complete mafferation of two songs I usually think are quite clever, Henry Higgins from My Fair Lady and Coward’s Don’t Put Your Daughter on the Stage Mrs Worthington, and other tragic, inconsequential, murderously bad versions of other stuff (including Snoopy I think!), meant I had to escape.

I feel I need to explain here. I concede that there is often stuff that is “not my cup of tea”. I don’t get big, mainstream musicals. Yet, I can totally appreciate them (and have even loved one or two) when they are well done. It is true that a collection of random show tunes is not that cup of tea that I would choose to drink, but I am entirely capable of drinking it, and enjoying it, if it is just warm, sweet and well made. “What’s In a Name?” is not that cup.

I am going to lose friends here. Brand new followers of meganshead on twitter are going to be upset. Friends of the performers in the audience last night were “loving” the show, and even tweeted me about it. I am going to be branded a bitch. I am going to set myself up for the harshest criticism of my own work. I wrestled with whether I was going to do this at all. But when I woke up at the crack of dawn this morning and saw what a friend had inboxed me on facebook, and realised she felt the same, I felt I had to speak out. Sies. What’s In a Name? In this case, absolutely zero, zip, niks.

Then, on my drive home (just to put salt in my wounds) I happened to flick the radio on to 567. The minute I realised it was Kieno Kammies I should have switched to 5fm for some retarded pop, but I was negotiating Boyes Drive and didn’t change in time. The moron was introducing what was going to be his late night topic; a ‘scientific’ study where caged monkeys are going to be fattened up so said scientists can study obesity. Kieno thought this was a great idea because, and I quote, “have you seen the fat kids rolling around the lawns?”. I. Kid. You. Not. Kieno Kammies thinks that caging and force feeding monkeys (natural omnivores quite capable of maintaining their own healthy weight) and fattening them up is going to help us understand why children are obese. Maybe Kieno, they are obese because they are caged, overfed (usually with unhealthy processed crap that monkeys would never eat) by their parents, bored and under-exercised? I actually could not listen to him for one second more. I had fantasies of finding images of his own children, hoping they were as fat as houses, and then using them in my own experiments. The drive home from KBT is long when you are having these murderous thoughts while listening to Rehane singing …”sticks and stones will hurt my bones, but whips and chains excite me” as if she wrote those lines herself! Bah. Humbug.

 

day 2 MTN Fail

So, last night I got my new bill from MTN. No phone call, no response, no email, no apology, no money in my account. The person who manages the MTN twitter account has twice asked for my cellphone number on twitter. Have you ever? But I just checked my email and here is MTN’s response on hellopeter.

Hello megmoan,

We raised this issue with our Banking department who managed to trace your payment and allocate it to your account. They requested that you please either use your MTNSP account or cell number as a reference when making a payment. Our banking system do not recognise spaces, commas or hyphens.

Our apologies for this inconvenience.

Regards

MTNSP

Now, for the record, I have always paid my account in the exact same way, with my cellphone number as a reference. It has never been a problem in the past. Secondly, is it just me, but is “Our apologies for this inconvenience” a little inappropriate? My line was disconnected. I had to pay twice. I have not received the money back, and nobody returns my calls. Thirdly, they make it sound like they had to do the work of tracing my payment! I emailed them proof of payment on Monday afternoon. What did they have to do, besides own up and sort it out, neither of which have they done? So, MTN, it’s war on, until you can give me some proper customer service.

I haven’t been as regular on my blog as I would have liked. I have been busy (not an excuse since I managed before), I haven’t seen any theatre in the last while, which was always a reason to write, and I’ve been away, and am going away again next week.

But is so easy to maintain. I can let you know what’s on my mind, tell you where I am, do publicity for shows, like and comment on other people’s stuff, and keep a presence without much effort or energy. I tried , one up on it is only updates, and it was just too boring to do. I can update my facecloth status on my phone. I can facebroek all my friends and ‘friends’ and friends. I can play Scrabble with friends and strangers around the world (except for Canada and USA).

But I always remember that I have friends and ‘friends’ and friends. What this means is that I am aware that you can’t be selective about who will see your status, your notes, your Scrabble score, if you decide to publish it. It’s not hard to do; it’s like making an announcement with the knowledge that 350 odd (in my case) people could see it.

So I really can’t believe the simple idiocy of people who make friends with their bosses and co-workers and then post themselves drinking pina coladas while they’re on sick leave, or who put “my boss is so hideous” in their status!

More and more I read about people being fired for being bust on facebook. I have read amazing stories of people doing their own detective work; a woman found out who assaulted her in a bar, crooks who left restaurants without paying have been found and ‘outed’ on facebook and relationships have begun and ended in a single status update.

Of course we live our lives more publicly than ever before. All sorts of people can find, watch, follow and even stalk others on the internet, and a social networking site like facebum makes it so easy. But it’s still you who has to do it. You have to sign up, on, and do. You have to take responsibility and remember that in a moment of “how cute is that?” you made your granny/long lost cousin/boss/one-night-stand/old head boy your friend, “friend” or friend.

It has started

Noah of Cape Town has begun. As I write this the cast of 16 magnificents,  as they shall become known, are in their second day of rehearsals. When I called the Big Magnificent, or , yesterday afternoon to find out how it was all going I could hear the magnificents singing in the background. Omigod. This is the most exciting thing that I have ever been involved in. I am actually drooling. And I’m not even there. I can see what’s going to happen though. Sneak visits to the rehearsal venue. “I just thought I’d bring….”, “I was thinking that maybe…”,”don’t you guys need….?”.

I can’t wait. Literally. I am beyond excited.

Check out our and join. Follow Noah of Cape Town on .

It’s the end of the world as we know it.

Oh the interweb

So I’m sitting here with the magnificent and talented Big Friendly and we (and when I say we I mean me swearing and complaining while Big friendly does stuff and complains when I can’t finish my sentences about what it is I’m complaining about but most of the time it’s interweb stuff so I don’t know exactly what I’m doing or even complaining about) are trying to make the Noah of Cape Town web site. Big Friendly has a list of things he needs me to do and he is setting up profiles, pages, and thingamies. My head is almost exploding.

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