Web Cowgirl 衛 思 維 (webcowgirl) wrote,
Web Cowgirl 衛 思 維
webcowgirl

For Alan Cumming to lift my spirits, we would have needed our own room

I left work in a terrible mood today. Politics, politics, politics. Some pissbucket in another department is angry that I've taken one of my team members back for the duration of my departure. Is he really so ballsless that he can't tell me to my face but has to go running to Daddy about it? Having my boss bring this up the minute I walked in the door was not good. Neither was being told about having my paycheck reduced by "extra vacation days." Even if I was able to change my start date to accommodate it, I'm mad that I can't spend that time doing what I want to and instead am chasing the Filthy God Lucre around the block.

And another young moron promoted to manager has no appreciation for adult employees. He wants people with enthusiasm. I wanted to go yell at him about how stupid he is. Everyone on his team has left, someone who know the challenges is willing to accept them, and he wants someone "enthusiastic." I'd rather have skilled and willing than young and dumb any day. Idiot bastard.

And my boss has come up with this great plan for replacing me, which is to not replace me. Instead, the QA people will report to dev leads. "But sir, to whom will we report our QA issues?" "Why, to the developers - they will represent both!" Right. That's like having the foxes represent the chickens' interests when it comes to coop security.

That said, we went to see The Bacchae tonight. The production values were really good, Alan Cumming was convincing as a sexy, arrogant, gold-lame-kilt wearing god, and the themes of "we must control the women's sexuality" and "there are times when you need to move beyond society's limits" resonated with me. But ... the songs the women sang did didn't make sense (they didn't add enough to make it worth the effort, even if their voices were good), and the entire, painful, endless 20 or so minutes after "the mom" appeared with her son's head just ... sapped my will to live. Okay, really, it wasn't that painful, but when you start doing your budget in your head and you're at a live show, something's going wrong. I like Greek exposition ("I went offstage and saw this thing we can't possibly show due to our limited budget!"), but I just ... well, Grampa just stumbled through his lines without a bit of love, and the fact of the matter is

ONCE THE DUDE IS DEAD THE STORY IS OVER.

Thank you for letting me get that off my chest. That said, it's not even 2 hours long (no intermission), so if you rock on Alan Cumming and you're clear that you're going to see a Greek tragedy, and you're still interested, well, by all means, go. Otherwise, please go see Venus as a Boy just right away because I was NOT doing my budget in my head while I was watching that show at all.

And thank you to the lovely souldier_blue for joining us for dinner and a show at last minute, and to itsjustaname for coming WITH me (because, well, it was Alan Cumming, so we did have to hope, but there's Sir Ian later in the year to clear the taste away, eh? - and I should have just got a drink with you), and booklectic for having good taste and enthusiasm and making me glad I live here, as do all of my guests (especially wechsler) at the show tonight, none of whom will be particularly angry because, after all, as a preview it was only nine quid.

Three more fucking days, I can't wait.
Tags: reviews, theater
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