Wednesday, October 27, 2010

Post for a Birthday

OH MY LORD I FORGOT WHOSE BIRTHDAY IT IS. It's October 27 - Sylvia's birthday, her seventy sixth. I hope she has a very, very, very happy heaven birthday. This is one of those things you hate yourself for forgetting. Lenora forgot John Lennon's birthday last week and I teased her about it. My glass house and I are in peril over here! Maybe today would be a good day to start The Bell Jar once again. Fourth time around the track never hurt anybody.


Going on through fall. It's less of a sail than a climb.

Anyway. Saw my very first live production of Streetcar last week at Binghamton. It was absolutely brutally intense. Why oh why did the movie cut Blanche's beautiful death monologue at the end of the show. It really is great. I think the one thing I'll keep from this production is the awful memory of Stella screaming for Blanche at the end of the show. That's also not in the movie, but it was epic. I applaud the director for choosing not to overdo the curtain call. Lights up, all bow together, lights down. No standing o.

Okay. Now the bad. Stanley Kowalski is a bad, bad man. He is scary. The kid portraying him was never scary. Stanley and Stella have an intense sadomasochistic relationship, and too many times they came across as children teasing one another. Plate smashing does not make up for the fact that Stanley was not the least bit intimidating. This production never really made me feel that there was anything mentally wrong with Blanche. She was composed and ladylike, right up to her rape and even afterward. Still, I enjoyed it. A for effort.

Saturday, October 16, 2010

The Waiting Game

Sent in my Emerson application. As Peter Griffin said, "And now I play the waiting game." The suspense, Mr. Lies. It's killing me. Apparently I have about two months to wait. TWO MONTHS. I could be dead by then. And if my parents don't let up a little with their nagging, I probably will be. Oh, well. Let's all calm ourselves down by looking at this scary picture of Lady Olivier as Lady Macbeth. I think she was considerably less desperate than I am. Epic eyebrows going on here.

One thing that annoys me is having to slog through my Facebook news feed and read multiple statuses that say, "omg my life is jokeee lolololol." Your life is not a joke. You may be an idiot, but your life is not a joke. I don't go for any of those happy go lucky witticisms about not having to take life seriously because nobody gets out alive. To me, that seems like a reason to take it a hell of a lot more seriously. I'll admit I slough a lot of things off. My complete nonchalance when it comes to school drives Lenora up the wall. I usually just shrug and say, "I'll be okay. I always am." And I am lucky enough for that to be true. I have an easy life. Sometimes it gets frustrating, but it's not a joke. I take myself desperately seriously. Need to work on that. But I try not to sweat the small stuff. I accidentally wrote "scienece" instead of "science" once on my commonapp. I sent my mom an email saying I probably wouldn't get into colleg now. She did not find it amusing. Really, people. They are not going to reject me for an extra e. Once they find this blog, though, then I'm REALLY screwed.

Saturday, October 9, 2010

Isn't it Rich.

The two little kiddies next door are running through my backyard screaming like Indians and waving sticks at Claude. I am not angry. I am not going to yell. I am simply going to sit at this window with my laptop and play Send in the Clowns. Nonstop. Very loud. In all its variations. Scream all you want, children. Judi Dench is up next. We're gonna have a fun evening. God whose eye is on the sparrow, please make these little demons leave Claude alone. And please help me learn how to be a mature adult and spend my time doing something other than playing mind games with children using the works on Stephen Sondheim.

Speaking of Steve-O, he helped me knock my SAT out of the park this morning. The essay was about the importance of the creative arts. I whipped out my best analysis of Sunday in the Park. Connect. Children and art. And I made that essay into my bitch. It was kneeling at my feet by the time I walked out of there. I also managed to slip in the JFK quote that Alice Ripley said at the Tonys. "I am certain that when the dust of centuries has settled we will not be remembered for our victories in battle or in politics, but for our contribution to the human spirit." I wove in The Crucible and Angels in America. Streetcar made and appearance with the death of censorship. All in all, it was just so very me. That's my little way of kicking dehumanizing standardized tests like that in the face.

Friday, October 8, 2010

Hell, No

Apparently the Idiots have nominated me and my book for some kind of award. No. NO. Just when I think I'm out they PULL me back in! They can keep their award. The best prize I can think of is a very, very long vacation from that place.

Sunday, October 3, 2010

My Way

I feel positively famous. People keep coming up to me to say congratulations. All weekend it's been flowers, cream puffs, dinners, cards, e-mails. I haven't done anything to deserve all this. Others have done it before and done it better. But I have to admit I am rolling in all the attention.

But the best, best, best part is waking up in the morning and not having to go check inkpop. No more reading romance and science fiction for me. I can watch my number of picks drop and delight in every single one lost. I think we can safely say it was nine months of hell. Turning left when everyone else turns right is harder than I thought it would be. God help me, I am immensely and egotistically proud of myself. I did it my way, as Frank would say. And I am proud of that. It is no big accomplishment. This is not going on my gravestone. But I still made it through. I think that's something worth noting, at least. In my own tiny world.

*Edit: Oh, how darling. Even Claude wanted to offer his congratulations, apparently. He took it upon himself to kill a mouse and drop it by my feet. He had not neglected to rip its face off. I was gagging, but he was so proud of himself - cause really, nothing says I love you like a mutilated rodent. I wanted to yell at him, but then I realized it was kinda sweet, dead mouse notwithstanding. It must have taken a lot of time and effort to catch a mouse for me. Much harder than picking up the phone and ordering a bunch of purple tiger lilies. This just isn't the kind of gift you put on the coffee table to show the family.

Friday, October 1, 2010


I'm incoherent. I AM A SUCCESS. To be honest, two phrases come to mind right now. One of them is from American Idiot: "Take one last look at this shithole because these are our tickets OUT OF HERE!" Oh Lord, I can't really celebrate. I'm just going to sit here in stunned and still silence. Probably till morning. Lenora says not to look back, lest I be turned into a pillar of salt like Lot's Wife.

I wanted to say goodbye to the idiots with a quote from Perestroika: Bye now. You are fabuluos creatures, each and every one. And I bless you: More Life. The Great Work begins.

To be honest, I think there's only one appropriate way to say goodbye to that site, though. - Farewell, see you in hell. I hope you rest in pieces. FUCK YOU. Am I ungrateful? Probably. For the experience. Not for the outcome. But still. Everybody rise. Inkpop is over. I made it through and nobody died. I'll drink to that. SO LONG, SUCKERS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!