"But, Honey, if I sit, who’s going to dance?" -Tasha, "Isn't It Romantic?"
I'm having a bit of an issue at the moment in pulling together my piece of humor writing for tomorrow/today's senior sem class. I've made much ado about my love of David Ives recently (monkeys!), but I also hold a deep affinity for the my second favorite playwright, Wendy Wasserstein, who died early Monday.
I, Midwestern theatre major shiksa, am certainly not the one to eulogize her importance to the world at large. I didn't hear about her until sophomore year when I played a nine year old ballerina in her one-act, "Tender Offer," which remains my favorite stage role ever. It's the variety of her work that remains impressive. Her full-length plays, though filled with such varying personalities from myself, are some of the few where I end up identifying with the characters. Her "girls," as she called them, are trying to find the balance between self-sufficient independence and life-lasting romance that often doesn't work out, just like real life...though they have their sense of humor to support the difference. Sometimes I feel like I know the feeling all too well.
Her lasting influences upon this girl: my extended knowledge of Swoosie Kurtz, the tutu in the closet, comprehension of the word "shiksa," appreciation for my fellow responsible but flawed girls everywhere.
Accomplished, Pt. 2 or, Why I Decided to Stop Worrying about Not Posting
It's been pointed out to me from several sources (most recently Wyoming) that the sandwich post has been sitting up basically as long as the actual sub languished in various fridges. To inform the masses as to my slight absence--beyond a month's lack of usage that leads to becoming out of practice--I provide a list of things that have been otherwise occupying my time.
* It doesn't actually count, but I just scratched myself incredibly deep considering I have basically no finger nails. Ow.
* I *will* beat that Burger King kid's meal skating game or simply let it drive me crazy. The fact that it comes in the kid's meal seems to suggest a lower skill level than it apparently takes. Perhaps I just suffer from those years of reading rather than playing video games, the same reason why I'm awful at Mario Kart now.
* I thought having classes starting only as early as 11:30 would be a blessing, but apparently I always did my homework in the afternoon since I keep sleeping in, wandering aimlessly on the internet, and move on to lunch right before rushing off to classes. If you need to call me, I'm still up at 2 a.m., which does add a little something to the Shakespeare readings.
* "But Hannah, why can't you do your homework in the evenings?" Well, sad clown, that time is now reserved for darling mainstage rehearsals. Did you know I had nine in a row during the period of Saturday-Thursday this past week? The SM and I bantered about not knowing what to do with ourselves Friday since we wouldn't be sitting in the Courtyard taking down blocking.
* And the truly random: I won Disney Trivial Pursuit last night (it was much closer than some of you might think), I've consumed six bottles of MinuteMaid in six days, and apparently people leaving their oatmeal creme pies equals me consuming it for them.
Back in the 'Ville, reconnected to the internet, two days of rehearsal already accomplished, and now thinking I shouldn't have consumed that soda full of sugar since it probably won't wear off until two-ish.
I'm now cell phone literate; I should send the number around for emergency purposes and the ability to hear the ringtone (finalists already selected but needing narrowing).
Just a warning of the impending radio silence as the family chugs its way back to JC sometime today. The car is mostly packed, which implies leaving early rather than later, but I imagine we're not so squished as to prevent a bit of antique shopping along the way.
I have books, I have a cell phone to figure out (I'll send a number around as soon as I feel confident working the confounded contraption), and I have the backseat.
I'm foregoing an actual list since I kept creating crap categories. I've seen some movies I loved, movies I'd fogotten I loved, and some movies I could happily forget. The year had both the good and bad times, but I wouldn't be able to single out a specific time frame that either fit "atrocious" or "divine." Moments, yes; months, no. I cannot pick a favorite CD since I've purchased/gained too many in the past week and haven't popped Ella into the player yet and the amount of stress prevented much new book reading.
All the dresses I bought this year were red, and two were shiny. This, I'm sad to say, could characterize my 2005 in fewer words than anything else. Life was flashy, life was splashy, and it brought the accessories.
Beyond that, my yearly (birthday) song moved from Only the Good Die Young to Don't Let Go at twenty-one. Let me state that again: I turned twenty-one. I also sort of but not really got married at the theatre banquet thanks to online-registered ministers. My friends are excellent sports at the crazy.
I gained my first professional theatre job and first professional power suit (one resulted in some of my favorite sleep deprived nights and the other in my favorite compliment--that I'm not sharing). Directing a show did *not* leave me a sniveling mess and it finished with both a strong product and a cast I was sad to leave. This resulted in a confounded typewriter, for which is still have few words. I also pulled off an A, my own post-Christmas miracle (so much for telling Lee I didn't care what he thought).
I've mostly learned to laugh at myself though I don't always remember what's so funny. This last semester has been my most sleep-deprived yet--I have the large quantit of film to prove it--and therefore one of the most entertaining, memorable sections of my life.
Ahead: continue to "don't let go" as time permits, cut back on the stress-induced caffeine consumption, consider possibly sleeping more, invest in some pencil skirts to make the typewriter even more worthwhile, and ply the charm all around. Also, aim for better constructed sentences, keep up with the final semester, and consume a multitude of sugar (which admittedly might affect that sleeping thing).