So I'm sitting at my desk, reading my cracked out 10-minute scene (note: never write under the influence of dayquil). I hear some guy downstairs talking really effing loudly and i think, "Self. Keep reading, read louder than that loud ass dude who's having a convo with some other annoying dude. Do your thing."

So I keep reading. Enthusiastically as I can be between my coughing fits, and after I've had my non-ego stomped into smithereens during our horrific class earlier this evening.

I keep reading, and then I notice that the streetlamp is violently shaking outside my window. I think "Earthquakes, in New York? It's the Day after Tomorrow!" (well we did have a hail storm last night, so it's not that far outside the realm of possibilities.)

No. It wasn't an earthquake. Just some guy, shimmying about on the streetlamp right outside my window. And I mean eye-level with me. I make eye-contact and then he says, "Sounds good!"

And I ran out of the room, faster than anything you've ever seen. I leapt out of that chair with a "holy shit!"



I snuck back in later and closed the window curtains.


Also. Some fun quotes from today:

me: I wish I could become an invisible speck so that no one will call on me for the rest of class.
The Pillowman: I can do that!
*hugs me*
The Pillowman: See. Now no one can see you!
Me: Can you just do that for the rest of class? Thanks.

D: I don't even smoke, but I'll be damned if you don't take it up by the end of the semester.

My Nemesis: (with the saddest face of all time) I thought writing was supposed to be fun.
Me: Hell no. Why do you think all writers are alcoholics.

Welcome to the Night Shift.

I go through periods where I post a lot on here and post next to nothing. Probably because I still have no clue what I want this blog to actually be.

Let's just say that I'm sick. Sick as a dog. And of course, it's the weekend that Hayley's visiting. I spent 2/3s of today asleep and now I have to get up for...ice cream? Idk, something (read: everything) is open at new york at this hour. All I really want to do is watch a movie and sleep some more, though.

A lot of homework, I have the first scene of my full-length play due wednesday, the summary for my screenplay due thursday, 2 revised monologues to send it by tuesday, a revised 10 minute screenplay, and either an edited or entirely new 10-min play for the playwriting festival that's due tuesday.
Have I done any of this?

Hell No!

I want to go back to sleep.

Things I Have Learned Over the Weekend

1. People who laugh or talk in an absurdly loud manner during the middle of a serious movie (Read: Never Let Me Go), should be shot and strung up as a warning to all. It's embarrassing.

2. Must remember that in most places, you'd never hear the phrase "So my waterpolo coach..."

3. It's exciting to procrastinate. Especially when that procrastination involves a nap and then trolling through your itunes list and rediscovering music.

4. Cats like to eat power cords. Cats are also Satan's minions hiding behind cute and fluffy façades. Until they attack you during said nap.

5. Boardwalk Empire is fantastic. Bored to Death is also fantastic, and starts tonight. Weeds is tonight and is slightly less fantastic, but that's okay. My procrastination means a big fat NO to all 3. Boo.

Writing Concepts

Inspiration for 10 Min screenplay #1:




Orpheus myth


Inspiration for 10 Min Screenplay #2:
And what will you do with a girl, if she refuses to be alive?- Laura Marling




(all from color me katie
Agoraphobia: is a fear of being in places where help might not be
available. It usually involves fear of crowds, bridges, or of being
outside alone.



Inspiration for Full-length Play:








Inspiration for Full-length Screenplay:
this article
This scene in Generation Kill

This Ep of the Twilight Zone

this film

The cat that I'm taking care of for the next 2 weeks.


Tonight I have to:
write a 10 min screenplay
edit my 10 min play
watch House of Sand and Fog
Watch Mystic River
Reread Hamlet
Reread The Pillowman (for Tuesday)
Read a screenplay that I haven't even checked out yet.
and something else. I can't remember.

It's been an odd last few days. Between the tornado in Brooklyn, beginning house sitting, a run-in with Premium Rush, about a dozen different completely off-their-rockers men, an hour long subway wait and eventually getting back at 3 am... it's been strange to say the least.

I was up in Alphabet City last night for a rooftop party, which was excellent. you could see EVERYTHING from there.

An in accordance to true writer fashion, we did a reading of one of the 10 minute plays


Discussed the (delicious) beauty of vegan rasberry pie


and wished Happy Birthday to the kid who's actual birthday it was.

(and that was before everyone showed up)

The rest of the weekend will consist of me watching House of San and Fog and Mystic River for Monday's class, reading 2 plays for Tuesday, writing a 10 minute screenplay, and writing a 10 minute play (which I have to take in tomorrow to be read, egads)!

Oh,and don't forget...

I have an obsession with looking at pretty pictures of food. Specifically breakfast food. I'm not sure what this says about me, though I suspect it has something to do with being on a diet since I was 12 years old.


niotillfem

simplybreakfast
cannelle et vanille
prettyfoods

I also learned today that using those flavored dairy creamer-things as though they are milk is a bad idea.

5 Things I have Learned over the last 3 days

1. I need rainboots that don't smell like burning rubber.

2. The only people who party more than writers are lighting designers.

3. (This is a two-parter) Why do I write? To understand people. When I am unable to write I can feel the world slowly closing in on me. So I'm selfish. Am I any good at it? Yes, but not good enough. I am, however, very good at bullshitting last minute assignments and speed-reading.

4. I would sell my first born to see GATZ


5. I wish I was little bit taller
I wish I was a baller

Gotta Love Writers

I don't know what it is about writers. You get them together and they won't stop drinking, talking, eating food (singing Britney Spears and Justin Timberlake) until the wee hours of the morning.

The Second Years threw a party way far out in Brooklyn. After not making the Next to Normal Lottery and leaving Greg to the emotional wreckage that is the musical (love it, but am destroyed by it), I slowly got ready and headed over. Took a year and a half, but the view from their roof was fantastic.




We were up there, before getting kicked out by security and making our way (back) down to the apartment. Cue random singing, discussions about plays, analyzing our teachers and general revelry. Eventually we were back up on the roof, until 3 something and we decided to get our butts home. Which took forever. It helped that I walked another girl home to Alphabet City and then walked back to Greenwich Village por mi sola. When I finally got back (at quarter to 5) some guy was outside my window screaming about the beauty of shoulder blades and and beautiful girls with beautiful hair. Who knows, man.

I've also come to the conclusion that I am no longer 19 and 5 hours of sleep makes me feel like I've been beaten with a 2x4. But I could definitely be feeling worse. Much,much worse.

Dear Dudes of New York,
Stop telling me to smile, no I will not give you a hug, and the day Hell freezes over is the day I have a "good time" with you. Instead, I will do what I want. And that means seeing a musical and ignoring your creepy ass advances that have more to do with the fact that I'm walking alone and you want to feel like a He-Man rather than anything else.

PS I saw La Cage and was pleasantly surprised.

PSS More musicals this weekend, plus some random mixer-thing with the first and second DDW kids. I foresee all the firsts doing their thing. It's awesome that we're already this tight. I also have to come up with 2-3 ideas/plots for screenwriting (full length by Thanksgiving), figure out what I want to write about for playwriting (2 by the end of the term), read like 4 or 5 plays and write for an hour each day. HOW AWESOME IS THAT. I just need to remind myself that I AM writer, that I'm capable, that I got into this program for a damn good reasons... and that means I should take my own writing relatively seriously or at least have a bit of faith in it.

And now I'm going to go to sleep so that I can wake up early and do some homework.


k, goodnight. Let's kick it, old school.

Yeah, so this is my room...now. I still need to fix the curtains, get a light bulb and a chair for my desk. Then I'll be set!




And I filmed it for my mother, hence the blowing kisses. That's not for all y'all.


oh and


mine is a crochet'd blanket. though if i turn a wee bit then it's a pair of badass scissors. so that would be good.

*

Me: Michael, if I were a song, what would I sound like?
Brother: I don't know.
Me: Write me a song, then!
Brother: Okay.

He is a boy of few words, but he wrote me a song! I seriously cried like a baby when I heard it.

I still haven't done my reading, I'm freaking out about tomorrow, and I have an idea for a story that's just for me, no one else (so that I don't seem like the crazy person in my class).

BUT THE POINT IS... MY BROTHER IS A BAMF.

*Yes, I'm white-trashtacular and recorded that on my camera and then uploaded it. I couldn't link the vid otherwise.

The heat and humidity finally broke, my chair and desk were delivered, and I start school on Tuesday. I'm trying to come up with ideas as quickly as humanly possible, and I'm nervous about failing.

Tonight the Dramatic Writing MFA students are all meeting at a pub on the LES. So far they all seem wonderful. It's strange, it's like I've met all these people who think like I do and look at the world in a slightly altered version of my own. Our Dean's Welcome was actually inspiring, telling us that we have something to contribute to the world. It was everything that Santa Clara's Welcome wasn't.

I'm excited and nervous and hoping that I'm not a one-hit wonder and that I'll be able to think up some more ideas and finish something for once.

4 trailers and a song

If you were to ask me what song I find most inspirational, I would say


If you were to ask me what film I find most inspirational I wouldn't be able to choose, I'd probably say Days of Heaven.

Or Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.

or Children of Men.

or finally, The Motorcycle Diaries

I went to my orientation yesterday.
It was... AWESOME. We have the woman who wrote Monsoon Wedding and she's scary and wonderful. We have lot so other people who are scary and wonderful as well. Nothing is quite as amazing as having a writer tell you about grad school and life because they make it sound so beautiful and snazzy.

Also, the people in my program are pretty awesome. Most are in TV and Film, there are only 4 or 5 of us in Playwriting (for now) but I'm not sure how things will change. I met a bunch of them, can only remember some of their names, but what can you do. There are only about 17 of us. One of the kids was in my undergrad, which is just ridiculous(ly awesome).

After orientation (which was supposed to end at 4) about 8 of us decided to go to MacDougal Street Ale House and sat around for 2 hours talking about playwriting, screenwriting, how awesome we think the teachers are... It's pretty awesome to explain why you love writing plays to someone who's only ever been a screenwriter and then have someone actually agree with you. To see your passion reflected in someone else's eyes is fantastic.

my bro's videos! he wrote the songs himself, so i'm a proud big sister.

"Other detectives have cases, Sherlock Holmes has adventures, and that's what matters."






This show is awesome, and Moriarty is Fabulous! (and so is everyone else)

After 15 minutes of internet sleuthery, I finally figured out the spoiler ending for Catfish.

The trailer makes the film look fantastic, obviously:


It's also received amazing reviews pretty much everywhere (including all throughout Sundance).

Herein lies the problem:

See that tagline?
I have a problem. When someone tells me not to do something, I just get the urge...It's like how I have to physically restrain myself every time I pass by a fire alarm (Note: I'm also a licensed Fire Guard for all film/theater establishments in the state of New York). Tangent aside, I had to figure out the ending. I HAD to. And whomever has been in charged with keeping the reporters, reviewers, et al hushed up over the twists and turns of the film- well, they're doing a good job. But if it's on the internet, there's a damn good chance I can find it. It's my Nancy Drew ways.



On another note, it's hot as blazes and I'm dying in my loft right now. I really don't feel like sleeping on the floor again. :/










...I bet you thought i was going to spoil you, right?
No way, Jose.

Who do you take me for?

OT: True Blood, why are you ending so soon!? At least I'll have Being Human, Dexter, and Boardwalk Empire to keep me occupied.

I think this is how I know whether or not I'm a hipster

Real MTV Ad-thing:
"I Just Want My Pants Back is a new MTV series to be directed by Doug Liman, the man who brought you Go, Swingers, Mr. and Mrs. Smith, and The Bourne Series and Central Casting is looking for you. We need people to be Extras who can portray Hipsters. If you are not sure if you can portray a hipster, answer these questions:

Do you own skinny jeans, old school chucks, cabbie hat, the 70’s vest, an ironic t shirt or hat*, a fitted sweater (n/a since I'm a girl), flannel shirt, or chunky lens-less glasses? Do you drink PBR, have an ironic mustache, have a blog that allows you to post pictures you took with your digital camera? Been called a hipster? Deny being a hipster, but own various wardrobe and sport an asymetrical hair style that is considered Non-Mainstream? Smoke Parliaments? Got any cool tattoos? Perhaps one of a star, maybe on your wrist or elbow? Own a vintage dress or have an awesome beard? Shooting the week of 8/30/2010 (Williamsburg)."

***
Things that I don't do are crossed out. Things that make me hipsterish are italicized. All photos are ripped from the headlines borrowed from Look at that Fucking Hipster. I am too lazy to take pictures of things that make me look like a hipster. I think I loser hipster points because of that.

* Does a HIPPIES EAT BABIES shirt count? It has a woodstock logo on the side.

THE REAL QUESTION IS: AM I A HIPSTER? DOES GOING TO NYU AUTOMATICALLY MAKE ME ONE?
Perhaps you need a case study: Today, I took my shoes off and stood in the Washington Square fountain. I was wearing jorts with my chunky black frame PRESCRIPTION glasses. As I stood in the fountain, letting the mist soothe my sunburned shoulders, I drank coconut juice that I had purchased for a ridiculous price (I need to keep my electrolytes in check). Do all these things, a hipster make? Or should I have been glowering like the sourpuss who sat across from me at the park. Her pointy toed shoes must have been cramping, and her large Anne of Green Gables hat did little to protect her from the jollity of a sunday afternoon in Downtown Manhattan. /case study

***
If you'd like to spend hours standing in the sun with sweaty mountain men and american apparel afficionados, go Here.

This Hipster announcement has been brought to you by the "I was popular in high school" people of MTV, who are apparently attempting to garner some hipster cred by pandering to the "I spend too much money to look this cheap" crowd living the neo-bohemian chic lifestyle. Not judging, I'm probably just as bad. And the fact that hipster fashion is now mainstream probably means that hipsters of ye olden days are dead (well, the subculture, not the people themselves).

Hipster Spiderman thanks you for your time,

Getting canceled on means that you can spend your night watching movies you always wanted to see but were too embarrassed to rent. Case in point: tonight I was supposed to go out, but those plans fell through like a walrus through thin ice (worst simile ever, but effective none the less). So now I'm watching CARRIE 2: THE RAGE



and looking at design blogs for inspiration for dinner parties I'll never hold.
I'm not going to admit that I quite possibly may have moved on to looking at wedding blogs. How embarrassing.


Oh, I forgot to add. I also walked from my apartment in Greenwich Village, up 5th to Central Park to meet friends who are visiting from the Bay Area. We then went to lunch at Le Pain Quotidien (amazing). I had a Fig and ricotta tartine, then continue through the park up to 78th and Lexington where we got coffee. I then walked from 78th ALL THE WAY BACK TO MY APARTMENT. Total: 10 miles. My feet are dead.

edit: Spent the night contemplating zombie apocalypse over twitter.

Things I Find offensive

1. Motorcyclists and their godawful engines
2. The fact that the viewer's choice of "Underage and Out of Control" Movie Marathon on Lifetime is "Speak." You know, the movie based on the book about a 15 year old girl who is raped at a party right before she enters high school.
3. Actually, that's it. Number 1 and 2 are really on my list right now.

I hate spending money. I hate, hate, HATE it. For some reason, I especially hate when I'm spending money on something worthwhile. Cutting board, teapot, GROCERIES, carpet, school books, a toothbrush.

A god damn toothbrush. And conditioner. I mean, come on. This is silly. It's not like I'm buying shoes or makeup. Toothbrushes are important. They make the whole world happier. Everyone will appreciate me more, all because I bought a toothbrush.

On another note. I need to a) finish my play; b) get my NYU ID card; c)Make doctor's appointments and c)start a 10-minute play for the Aspen MFA Playwright's festival. I need a mother effin play concept!

PS. evil cat lady is brought to justice

Back in New York City. The plane was delayed by an hour and a half because of mechanical problems. Always something you want to hear 15 minutes after you've taken a pm decongestant and 2 dramamine. At least if the plane had crashed, I would have been unconscious.

I'm also glad to say that the weather here is in the 60s/70s with rain, while in the Bay Area it's supposed to hit 103. I hate anything above 90, I swear to God.

As soon as I got in, I fell asleep for 4 hours. Then ran to the grocery store, and now I have every intention of sitting on my butt and nursing the cold that I still have.
But here are a few photos from back the vacation.

Hiatus of epic proportions has come to an end. My goal is to blog on a somewhat regular basis.

I think my mind melted from 6 months of work and I needed to become a temporary neo-luddite. See, I'm still learning about this thing called "boundaries" and not surpassing them. I tend to throw myself into things 110%, burn out, and then feel like my brain is some vast waste land that is completely incapable of functioning on a level above "eat, breathe, sleep."

But I'm better now. I've been writing. I went camping for a week, have been home for another 2 1/2 weeks. It was good to get away from New York for a bit. I thought I hated New York in the winters, but that was before I met New York summer. I'll welcome snow flurries and slushy conditions from this point on.

You may wonder why I'm writing at 4 am. No, my plane flight isn't until 11:15 pm tonight. I just can't sleep. I've come down with a head cold (read: I'm going to die a painful death upon descent into JFK). That coupled with the general anxiety of flying back to New York, school starting, and all the other various things I need to do has resulted in me sitting around watching Gypsy and trying to breathe through my left nostril. But, whatever.

I write like
David Foster Wallace

I Write Like by Mémoires, Mac journal software. Analyze your writing!

Better go start reading Infinite Jest, then. 

Oh and, we all knew it would happen... BLOODY BLOODY is going to Broadway in September!

Sitting backstage at the theatre. I've had my set change and my roommate is sitting in the audience. Now what? Today has been mayhem. Scheduling SNAFU and the fact that the cat I'm housesitting for is sick. Insanity.

12 days until I get to go home. I know I've been horrible at updating this, but spending 6 hours manning the computers- watching like a hawk to make sure the shit doesn't hit the fan, and then going to the show has made it next to impossible for me to think about anything interesting to write, let alone to actually sit down and write it.

Oh, but I will write about how there's a horrible horrible musical playing in the theatre next to us. It sounds like a cat is being skinned alive, then slammed against the drums while the bassist slams his head into the amp with glee. That's what it sounds like. HORRIBLE. And we can hear it. The sound bleeds over into our theatre and makes us sound atrocious by association. Not cool, dawg. Not cool.


Anyway, I can't wait to go home. I'm going to make a list of what I want to do and when I want to do them. Maybe I'll post it. Who knows.

These photos sum up my past week.
And I've noticed that my "I'm concentrating face" consists of me looking like a fish.




Why yes. Yes, I do look exhausted (and sick as a dog).

I just slept for 8 hours, for the first time in over a week. I've been running on 4 hours and loads of caffeine.

At one point, I ended up just staring at the set for a good 5 minutes. The Set Designer then said, "you should really just start mainlining caffeine." Thanks.

I didn't even stay out late last night. I had 1/2 a drink, then was so exhausted that I got a cab ride home and was asleep before midnight. I feel worse than I did yesterday. I guess that's how you know you're tired...
I do have pictures, I'll sneak them up sometime soon. Especially if I survive both opening nights!

Why is it so hot?
Why did I eat Qdoba?
Why am I watching the Hills?

So many questions, so few answers.

I'm going to try and go to Yoga tomorrow at 7 am. LET'S SEE HOW WELL THAT WORKS OUT. (A-hole who spent 2-4 am honking this morning, I'm looking at you).

I've also talked to Maren and Rachel in the last two days. Reminding me of home, yes they are. And Brittany is here, but I've yet to actually see her. Let's hope I remedy that before she leaves for London/Turkey.

On a completely different note, why do I have to pay $80 a month on my cell phone. That is beyond ridiculous. I need to find a cheaper plan. The worst is that my plan is supposed to be $61, but with all the surcharges and everything I end up paying a beyond ridiculous amount more. And I need a new phone. One that doesn't shut off, go straight to vm, or just decides to freeze on me.

And to end on the random assortments of thought this post has become, I love this song.

Kathryn ______ (Associate Producer, Company Manager) is thrilled to be involved with DCT and The Pearl Project. A recent transplant from the San Francisco Bay Area, Kathryn has worked as a Stage Manager for A Midsummer Night’s Dream, designer and Stage Manager for Can’t Thread a Moving Needle. Since graduating from Santa Clara University with a BA in History and Theatre, Kathryn has been involved with the Bay Area Theatre Group: Cardboard Box Theatre Project, where she helped design, produce, and stage manage several new productions and has continued her involvement as Social Networking Coordinator. She looks forward to continued involvement with DCT as well as beginning her graduate career with NYU Tisch’s Dramatic Writing MFA.

Say it ain't so, Harry!

It's like my childhood is coming to an end.

Not that I'm saying the adaptations are particularly good (Steve Kloves, I'm looking at you), and not saying that I really even liked Deathly Hallows (which I really didn't...or at least can only remember that damn epilogue, which obscures everything else), but I've grown up with Harry Potter and to see it come to an end...

I remember when the book first came out. I was eleven and visiting London. The Philosopher's Sorcerer's Stone wasn't out in the States yet, but I remember seeing the British edition in the bookstore and wanting it. I had to wait another year for the first two to be available. I can remember when my mom brought them to me at summer school. I was 12. And as the books were published and the movies made, I went through Middle School, High School, College... Now I've graduated, but instead of feeling like it's something that I should be embarrassed for liking, I'm nostalgic.

Really, my age group grew up with the books, more so than for any other. My brother and sister (almost 16) are too young to remember anything before really the Goblet of Fire. Many of my friend's older siblings operated in the "read but don't admit to liking" category. My age, it was okay to read the books and be enthusiastic enough to dress up as characters for parties or midnight showings. I can remember every book coming out, how I stayed up all night to finish them, how i bawled when Sirius (spoiler alert) died, how much I hated Dobby's annoying use of third-person. I can remember reading Order of the Phoenix in the pool, sitting on a floatie with my next door neighbor, our arms out over the pool ledge so as not to get my hardcover copy ruined as we each held a corner. Every film was seen with no less than 6 people, all friends who were just as enthusiastic about something that reignited memories of our childhood as we were about the plot holes or ridiculous acting.


Too bad my computer ate the pictures from where I was dressed as Katie Bell. My sister now wears the shirt I made to sleep

The books got a generation of kids to read again. But not just read, research, learn about history and myths, write... Whether or not you like the books or think they're ~literature is not the point. It was the first series in a long while that got kids excited in reading, but not just about Harry Potter, about The Dark is Rising, about The Golden Compass, about Lord of the Rings (though the movies helped that as well), about The Lion, the Witch and The Wardrobe, Chrestomanci- books that have repeatedly struck a magical nerve in kids.

They're good books, with a damn solid story and some awesome character development. And the characters are flawed, which is so nice for kids who are often made to feel that it's either the right way or failure. If these protagonists, these heroes, can make mistakes- then maybe it's not so bad for the average 13 year old. And the films, for all their flaws, opened up even more eyes to the books, and by default other books. It let kids have a bit more make believe. I, for one, know it got me to write.

And now we're at the end. The actors are ready to move on, the author's ready to move on, I'm ready to move on.
Though, when the time comes for that BBC 300-hour epic version of the series 15 years from now, I hope they know who to call for the adaption.


Damn, don't I sound like a crazy fan. I swear to God, if you meet me I won't be dressed in a cape. Unless it's halloween...or something. And like I said, it was my childhood..and awkward teenage years. You gotta give me a break.

Tomorrow....

After the England v. Germany* game, and after running to the office and letting in the costume designer's assistant to rummage through boxes (to find suits)... But before running to the Lower East Side to pick up my camera from the bar where my friend works, and before the Argentina vs. Mexico game**... I think I shall pick up some yarn and a needle and do some needlepoint on my new Gap Bag. Mostly because, right now, it looks like a diaper bag. And that ain't cool, yo.



Does this post make sense? If not, then just distract yourself with my favorite ad...ever.



* Will it be a reenactment of World War II? Germany starts off strong, only to become distracted just before half time. Things seem to reach a stalemate until England (with the support of all the forlorn Americans who have now decided to root for them) will make an astounding resurgence, thus proclaiming victory, all the while laughing at Germany as they make their way back to grim faces in Continental Europe.

** Argentinian empanadas are infinitely better than Mexican empanadas. And that's how I decide who to support.

update?

So this week was hellacious. By that, I mean, I walked about in the pouring rain Tuesday night after having a near breakdown. and that's when I said to myself myself, "Self, you are going to chill out. Take a chill pill, kick back, relax...or at least don't act like everything is life or death. Because, guess what... If things are messed up, it's not your fault... and even if they are your fault, it's not on purpose."

Now, that doesn't mean I'm not going to try my damndest (hello, I am Type A and grew up in the Bay Area), but I'm going to take a note from my more chill  Northern California counterparts. I may be in New York, but this whole "moving a mile a minute, holy shit, we're all going to fail because I didn't turn in that one piece of paper on time" mentality just ain't gonna fly. I can't handle that.

Because that is insane.

So I've been leaving the office before 8. That's still about 10 hours a day, but at least I'm leaving at a somewhat reasonable hour. And I'm eating lunch. And I'm cutting back on coffee. And listening to NPR again. And in general TRYING to not be completely insane. It's sort of working, but in my defense it hasn't even been a week.

And then last night I went and saw HAIR again, with a friend. It was awesome because she hadn't even heard the music before I dragged her butt to the show. It's closing sunday night, and while the new cast doesn't hold a candle to the original revival (oxymoron, much) cast, there are a few members who are pretty damn good.  I cried, like I always do, but it was nothing compared to when I saw it last time.   I love that show, for all of it's flaws, and just want to dramaturge the hell out of that thing.

(edit: Once again, I got hippies all up in my grill. Awesome)


This morning, in my continued attempt to achieve a state of peace despite my near manic mind, I went to yoga. Now I thought it would be the "ahhhh, chill out and achieve nirvana" yoga. No. It was the "owwwww,  have the nirvana beaten into you" style of yoga. But it was awesome. For once my mind only slightly wandered back to theatre, and instead I was too focused on the fact that I evidently hold all my stress in my hips, lower back, and shoulders... and that I have the flexibility of an 80 year old.

And nothing will end my day (what? it's only noon!) like a giant street fair outside my window and the US v Ghana game that I'm going to watch.

And just so everyone else can chill out, here's some super mellow tunes.


PS Cross your fingers I get my camera back tomorrow (ahem, Forrest, if you're reading this!)

This week (already), oy vey

Still don't have my camera. It's been taken hostage by Forrest... or at least his apartment has taken it hostage. I was supposed to get it back friday night but no dice. On friday, however, I did skip out of work early (does it count as early if you've been there for 8 1/2 hours?) to see Much Ado About Nothing- which a bunch of the MND cast was in.

It was pretty good, no lie. Much Ado is one of my least favorite Shakespeares, so keeping me relatively entertained throughout the play is quite an accomplishment. After that we went to ye olde Irish Rogue. Fun Fact: Tuesday through Sunday after 11 pm, you are guaranteed to find at least 75% of the people there being theatre folk getting their booze on.

It was fun, hung out for a few hours then made my way home. I did, however, manage to lose my glasses. I've had them for two years and absolutely loved them :( All because I was wearing a mask and the glasses fell out of my pockets. I'm going to go by after work tomorrow and see if they found them, because lord knows I hate wearing contacts all the time. They give me a headache.

Other than that, I have done absolutely nothing. And that's the way I like it. I'm so tired that I feel like I'm back in school and it's that week after a show has closed/finals and you just feel completely dead.

So I'm just going to chill here, watch East of Eden and wait for the next World Cup game.

When it rains, it pours.  And today it was a downpour of Biblical proportions.
The cherry on top of the pos day was when the Scientologists outside of our office berated me for 5 minutes about how stress was destroying my life.
a) I live in New York.
b) I work in theatre
c) I am a control freak.
Of course I'm stressed. And reading your stupid book and trying to cleanse myself of Thetans is going to do jack to help my stress. You know what helps more? Yoga.
And a lobotomy.

And being stuck on the 46th floor of an empty building at 10:30 at night? So not fun. More like the start of a zombie horror film.
*
I'd like to thing I'd survive.

So before I go, here's a song that makes me not want to carpet bomb the world.



*I totally did not take that photo yesterday.

I would update you on my weekend, but I left my camera in Brooklyn.

Suffice to say it consisted of rain, being barefoot in the park, kittens, world cup football, and champagne.
It was really fun, to say the least.


And I really want my camera back.

Dude, I wish.

I need to write more.
Someday...