friendsLast night, after some time wandering around town (Mayotown does this thing downtown every Thursday during the summer, with bands and food vendors), Santas, Swedewolf, Skee and I went to Olive Garden.
Skee is the director, Swedewolf is the stage manager, and Santas is one of the actresses for a small show that's currently running for three weeks two towns away from mine. Were I not doing Camp, I would probably be part of this one - for some curious reason, directors get a kick out of casting the three of us sisters together. But, you can imagine what it's like to go out with three people who are all part of the same show.
They just keep building on each other.
This ended up being a fine illustration to me of the ways that we shift our personalities depending on who we're with. With Santas, I'm me. Some sort of blending of the goofy, supporting-role, let's-play me. With Swedewolf, I'm me. Some sort of blending of the smart, sweet, and straightforward bits of me. With both of them, I can't be either one of those properly, so I sort of turn quiet and just listen, just butting in when I feel like I'm being left out. It's weird.
I have concluded that if I do end up leaving this spring, I'm not going to have a farewell party. I don't really do parties well - there's too much stimulation and not enough connection. I like one-on-ones, or small groups.
There was an entertaining bit, because I was putting mine and Santas' meal on my card, and was throwing the tip on the receipt. Santas is watching over my shoulder. As stated, she's up on the others a bit from the theater-fun.
S:*yank* "Where did you learn to add?!"
P: *startled* "What?" (S is scrutinizing)
S: *hands receipt back sheepishly, pats me on the shoulder.* "You were taught very well."
I will say a few words of praise about Swedewolf's voice: I love it. Swedewolf is something in the ballpark of 6'2, and it seems that all that extra chest space is used for his voice to resonate. He's very much a bass. First thing in the morning is great, because he's even lower than usual. The first time I ever heard him sing, actually sing by himself onstage (admittedly, it was for a very silly theater show), I pretty much fell in love with his voice. Would I date Swedewolf? No. But oh, I love his voice.
So, that being said...
One of the girls was giving him a back rub later. When Swedewolf is happy and relaxed, he gets shorter. You would think that compressing the space in his chest would make his voice go higher, but it in fact drops. To, I commented after his response to a question, a subsonic level. You know that he said something, you might have even caught syllables, but you really don't know what. Swedewolf has dropped his voice beyond the range of human hearing.
Skee grins, "Well, that just means that when he's really happy, he can only communicate with elephants."
Swedewolf raises his pitch about an octave and a half, so that it's at the very bottom of our female hearing, and rumbles, "Dumbo is my homeboy."
I just about fell off the couch laughing.
Skee is the director, Swedewolf is the stage manager, and Santas is one of the actresses for a small show that's currently running for three weeks two towns away from mine. Were I not doing Camp, I would probably be part of this one - for some curious reason, directors get a kick out of casting the three of us sisters together. But, you can imagine what it's like to go out with three people who are all part of the same show.
They just keep building on each other.
This ended up being a fine illustration to me of the ways that we shift our personalities depending on who we're with. With Santas, I'm me. Some sort of blending of the goofy, supporting-role, let's-play me. With Swedewolf, I'm me. Some sort of blending of the smart, sweet, and straightforward bits of me. With both of them, I can't be either one of those properly, so I sort of turn quiet and just listen, just butting in when I feel like I'm being left out. It's weird.
I have concluded that if I do end up leaving this spring, I'm not going to have a farewell party. I don't really do parties well - there's too much stimulation and not enough connection. I like one-on-ones, or small groups.
There was an entertaining bit, because I was putting mine and Santas' meal on my card, and was throwing the tip on the receipt. Santas is watching over my shoulder. As stated, she's up on the others a bit from the theater-fun.
S:*yank* "Where did you learn to add?!"
P: *startled* "What?" (S is scrutinizing)
S: *hands receipt back sheepishly, pats me on the shoulder.* "You were taught very well."
I will say a few words of praise about Swedewolf's voice: I love it. Swedewolf is something in the ballpark of 6'2, and it seems that all that extra chest space is used for his voice to resonate. He's very much a bass. First thing in the morning is great, because he's even lower than usual. The first time I ever heard him sing, actually sing by himself onstage (admittedly, it was for a very silly theater show), I pretty much fell in love with his voice. Would I date Swedewolf? No. But oh, I love his voice.
So, that being said...
One of the girls was giving him a back rub later. When Swedewolf is happy and relaxed, he gets shorter. You would think that compressing the space in his chest would make his voice go higher, but it in fact drops. To, I commented after his response to a question, a subsonic level. You know that he said something, you might have even caught syllables, but you really don't know what. Swedewolf has dropped his voice beyond the range of human hearing.
Skee grins, "Well, that just means that when he's really happy, he can only communicate with elephants."
Swedewolf raises his pitch about an octave and a half, so that it's at the very bottom of our female hearing, and rumbles, "Dumbo is my homeboy."
I just about fell off the couch laughing.
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