ALSO!!!
Congrats to The Street who got into Damn Big Midwestern University. Rock on Cousin Awesome!

Two days ago I put to rest two entertainment obsessions: Dorothy Dunnett's 8-book House of Niccolo series (and by extension The Lymond Chronicles, her closely related 6-book series), and The Wire.
I can't recommend either enough, although, realistically, I can imagine watching The Wire as an easier undertaking for most of you; I've been reading Dorothy Dunnett since freshman year of high school (with hiatuses, obviously).
At any rate, having spent as much time thinking about these two series as I have, I was bound to, in the words of my mother and mothers everywhere, learn something. Therefore, below, I present ten things I learned from each series. Enjoy.

Things I Have Learned From The Wire:
1) Have a hobby. Make miniature furniture or become a Honey Nut Cheerio connoisseur, for example.
2) Grown men are not the only scary people out there. Women and little kids are equally capable of terrifying behavior.
3) Sometimes, a dog is just a dog.
4) If you leave Charm City, Garrison Keillor will automatically come on the radio, and who wants that?
5) Robin Hood's got nothing on Omar Little, not even style (have you seen his PJs?).
6) Don't start a relationship with McNulty. (Or Kima. Or Bunk. Or D'Angelo. Or Nick. In fact, just stick with Freamon, okay? Or latter-season Prez.)
7) Middle School is, in fact, the worst place in the world. You've always suspected you were right.
8) Academia, unlike armed robbery, will never, ever, look good in prime time.
9) Gus Triandos needs some love.
10)No one thing can be fixed. It's everything changes, or nothing does.

Things I Have Learned From Dorothy Dunnett:
1) It's all about paternity: fourteen books of who's related to who and who's whose son. A Renaissance-flavored episode of Maury, if you will.
2) The main character, on some level, knows everything, and has always known.
3) There can only be one good, handsome man.
4) Little kids are adorable, perceptive, and doomed. When your author obviously has a cap on the number of cute little kids there can be at one time, avoid having a favorite.
5) Eight books worth of drama can, in fact, be chalked up to one old man's misplaced homophobia. This is only one of many reasons why homophobia is BAD.
6) Smart women save the day every time.
7) Don't play chess. Just don't.
8) Settling for marrying your one true love's doppelganger never works. Never, ever.
9) Disguises rock. Drunken disguises rock even harder.
10) "Yunitsa" is a term of endearment. It also means heifer, but that's neither here nor there.

Having survived the past two weeks, I left my dorm room yesterday, hopped on the train to Newark, sat there until my plane deigned to take off, and eleven hours after leaving Princeton, walked into my house.
The past two weeks have been hectic, but good. I got up early on my birthday and trekked over to the creative writing office to sign up for this semester's section. I was sixth in line (having shown up an hour before sign-ups opened) and got my top choice, the section taught by Jeffrey Eugenides, author of Middlesex (one of my favorite books). The next day I got up early again, this time to sign up online for the rest of my classes. I got all the classes I wanted, including an English class called "Dublin: The City and the Word" taught by Colm Tóibín, author of The Master. So I'll be spending five hours a week next semester taught by two of my living writers.
Currently, I'm sitting watching The Shadow in the North and writing Christmas cards. That must be one of the marks of adulthood, surely: to have to write your own Christmas cards.

This year (and most of the time), I am thankful for:
HarvardGirl, BrandeisGirl, Trebor, Schinkel, Subcontinent and her family, CornellBoy The Aged Ps, Roommate J, Athena and her roommates, The Street, Interns T, N, and C, the ex-neighbors, The Tales of the City series, The Wire, air conditioning, Mr. President Elect Obama, family, turkey (and sometimes ham), taco nights at ResidentialCollege, chocolate, chocolate croissants, Master Awesome, Frenchman Adviser, Connecticut, Adrian Tomine, Hanif Kureishi, Roger Ebert, Raymond Chandler, Coretta Scott King, the cabin, the continued health of the people I love, Lord Byron, Francis Crawford of Lymond, Dido Twite, fedoras, the inventor of nail polish, champagne, the Getty Museum, the liberal arts, Jeffrey Eugenides, civil rights, stationery, cookies, tea, conversation, Desmond Tutu, The West Wing, House, Stephen Fry, voter registration, the artist formerly known as Masterpiece Theater, salsa lessons, Knox College, Princeton, the United Nations, Atticus Finch, Alexandre Dumas, George Bernard Shaw, Four Weddings and a Funeral, Some Like it Hot, mayonnaise, Small World Coffee, and YOU.

As it turns out, I didn't go to the protest, not because the weather was bad but because I went to bed at one thirty, set my alarm for ten thirty, and then stayed awake stressing and making lists until three thirty, at which point I turned off my alarm clock, rolled over, and woke up at noon.
Given that the torrential rain we were expecting didn't actually show up, I kind of regret not heading up to New York, but I DON'T AT ALL regret getting enough sleep to function.
Instead of my exciting tales of protestation, have a poster:

It's been a while. It certainly has. The week after the election was a race against time to finish all my homework and reading that I neglected over Fall Break (in favor of getting two paper written) and on election night (in favor of, you know, being able to tell my grandchildren that I didn't spend the most important night of my sophomore year in the library).
That Friday was fun, though, I went to watch Pride & Prejudice (the inferior but still good Keira Knightly version) with a friend of mine from Freshman Orientation Week who I ran into, essentially for the first time since then, on the train back from Newark. She's a tea snob, and so the evening consisted of drinking Russian Earl Grey out of bone china. She also had silk carpets on her dorm room floor. Yeah.
Anyway, the whole experience led me to realize (for the second time) that I don't prefer Colin Firth over Matthew MacFadyen as Mr. Darcy. They play him very differently, so it's difficult to compare the shy Mr. Darcy who speaks before he thinks with the haughty Mr. Darcy who is trying his best to get over the elitism he was born with. It helps that they're both really handsome. I mean, when does that not help? :)
The rest of the weekend was spent on homework. (Ex)RussianRoommate, Roommate J, and I went to see the Princeton South Asian Theatrics fall show. It was okay; cute accents, so-so acting. Then we went and painted mugs at the awesome literally underground café. Mine is pretty ugly, but covered in inside jokes having to do with the faux a capella group that Roommate J, CC, HaHa, and I are founding. It's called "[Nom de Plume] and the [collective ethnicity of my other roommates]s."
This week was less of a sprint to the finish, but it was still great to reach the end of today and know that all I have on my slate for the weekend is going to watch the Triangle Show. I flirted with the thought of going to the NYC version of tomorrow's nation-wide California Proposition Eight protest. I may still go, but the weather forecast is for a 100% chance of thunder storms, although it will be unseasonably warm. If I wake up and it's beautifully sunny, I'll go. If not, I'm there in spirit. It really was difficult to feel completely happy on November fifth about the end of one kind of inequality when many of my friends were still feeling the impact of another form of inequality.
Unrelatedly, last night Roommate J and I went to a salsa party on The Street in an eating club we had never been to before. It was to use our new moves more than anything else, especially since the last salsa class was on Wednesday, but we ended up having a lot of fun, and we ran into our dance instructors and the male dance instructor's girlfriend, as well as another girl from our class, so it felt like a final exam and we passed spectacularly well.
Next Friday we're continuing to expand our social horizons by going to the annual Drag Ball. I have my outfit all planned out, but somewhere I need to find suspenders.
At any rate, tonight I have a French New Wave film to watch to see if I want to do my oral presentation on it, and then an Almodóvar film to watch to clear the bad taste from my mouth if the French one doesn't work out. I'll buy cookies. In fact, I'll buy cookies now. Farewell.

I wore blue underwear today. That may or may not have been completely irrelevant.
Time to collect my thoughts.
I really do believe, no matter how much of a cliché it is at this point, that what I witnessed tonight will be something I tell my grandchildren (or at least my friends' grandchildren) about. I'll remember where I was. I'll remember that I hit refresh on CNN.com almost manically all evening long, I'll remember calling Dad when Iowa went to Obama and said, "We were there at the beginning." I'll remember telling Roommate J when Virginia went to Obama, her absentee-voting victory dance around the room, and the realization two minutes later that Obama had won. Not just Virginia, but the Presidency.
I'll remember our sighs of relief, I'll remember watching John McCain's concession speech and explaining to HaHa and CC that, yes this means Obama won.
I'll remember watching coverage of Ebenezer Baptist Church and tearing up as the pastor spoke of the leaps and bounds from the civil rights movement to leading the free world.
Most of all I'll remember, with three minutes to go until Obama's acceptance speech, running outside with all three roommates and taking a victory lap around Holder courtyard, cheering at the tops of our lungs. People poked their heads out of doors and windows and cheered along with us. Catharsis doesn't even begin to describe it.
Then we came inside and watched the speech. I wish I had been there in Grant park. I've never been prouder of my home state.
Here's the main thing: for this, my third cognizant November 5th-after-an-election, I am happy with the choice my country made. And that means a lot.
I don't expect the next four years to be perfect--not by any means--I just expect them to be years when I can feel a hint of patriotism every once and awhile. I've been a political underdog all my adult life. It's time, to borrow a phrase, for a change.

Maybe this means next year the Orioles (or the Cubs!) will win the World Series.

Maybe not.

Back in Midwestern Town, I rolled out of bed and almost instantaneously discovered this. It's the all the New York Times' presidential endorsements, from Lincoln to Obama.

I have vanquished 3/3 midterms! I am victorious. One I slogged through, one came cascading out of my brain, and one I kicked firmly on the derriere and sent packing. Of course I have two papers to write over break, but that's nothing...much. Now I've just got two classes, and then I'm winging my way back to Midwestern Town.
Time to take stock.
I still have:
ten fingers, ten toes, bad eyesight, three more-awesome-than-words-can-express roommates, a burning need to write things down, a burning need to cross things off lists, a semi-laudatory sleep schedule (down from last year's level of impressiveness), a bit of an intellectual crush on Master Awesome, a fondness for Athena and her roommates who I don't see enough, a lot of books I need to read, and a fascination with cookies, France, civil rights, and stationery.
I need:
to quell my budding walnut addiction, to restart Unofficial Friday Night Film Club, to work on my stories oh-my-goodness-I-miss-creative-writing, to take creative writing next semester, to figure out the RCA/Princeton in France/whatever-else-I-have-to-apply-to-that-I'm-forgetting applications, to keep enjoying the world that is the Orange Bubble.

I'm off!

Top misheard song lyrics. A perfect way for me to kill time while I wait to meet with my preceptor about my Fin du Siecle paper topic.
Personal Favorite: # 10. "Healthcliff! It's me; I'm a tree, I'm a wombat."

I am probably going to Liberal Hell for saying this, but I would totally watch a talk show starring Mike Huckabee and guest starring Sarah Palin. It would be a talk show where they would receive small electrical shocks if they said anything offensive, though, so don't consign me to the fiery pit too soon.
Anyway, they both scare(d) me as nominees, but did eerily well on SNL. Thus a talk show. They could talk about the weather (but not global warming), traffic (but not gas prices), television (but not HBO). You get the idea. Safe stuff like that would be great.

...or maybe I've been studying for midterms too long and too hard. I don't know. Still, I don't think it's too much to ask for Obama in the White House, to have Huckabee and Palin on a really hilarious and unoffensive corner of the airwaves.

Went to a screening of Recount, and then a discussion afterward with the writer. It was great. And then, oddly unrelatedly, I got handed some True Blood paraphernalia. Princeton = free stuff (once you're here).

This is called something along the lines of how the debate SHOULD have sounded:


The best part about watching that on youtube is that in the comments section someone wrote, "It's obvious that Obama won that one too!"
In all seriousness, I feel really good about Obama right now, although the fact that I'm an Illinoian transplanted to a college campus in another blue state may very well have something to do with this.

On another note, this past week has been really great in a lot of ways.
Friday
I went for a bike ride on the towpath and found a VERY relaxing spot to sit and read. I may go there tomorrow, or some other day this weekend at the very least. It is a bench looking out over Lake Carnegie.
That night, (Ex)RussianRoommate and I went to watch the screening of the silent Phantom of the Opera at night in the chapel. The chapel organist accompanied it throughout, and had worked up quite a sweat by the end. What made the evening even more creepy and awesome was the dressed-in-black-and-staring chapel choir who surrounded us in the pitch black and, by the light of candles they were holding, sang as an opening act to the movie.
Saturday
Got up very, very early for someone who only got in bed at one the night before and took the train up to NYC to meet CornellBoy. It was his first visit to the city and had brought a rather large suitcase for the weekend. We lugged this over to TKTS, got tickets to The Seagull (with Kristen Scott Thomas! and that really adorable looking girl from Bleak House), lugged it around the theater district looking for lunch, lugged it into and out of the sandwich place we eventually picked, lugged it back to the theatre where, thank goodness, they had a bag check just for people like him, saw the play (SOOO GOOD. Not stagnant at all, which, sadly, has been my past experience of Chekhov), lugged it down to Columbus Circle, had coffee with one of his friends who graduated last year (really fun!), lugged it back to Penn Station, and rode back to Princeton.
Ice cream with HSClassmate and then awesome Indian food preceded hanging out with Roommate J and playing guessing games until it was time for bed (I was dying at this point).
Sunday
Epic walk with CornellBoy all around campus. First, though, we went to church. He was curious and I was happy to oblige. Luckily it was a friendly homily and the singing was sufficiently bad to boost CornellBoy's ego. Returned to the dorm to play Apples to Apples with HaHa, Roommate J, and (Ex)RussianRoommate before messing with the magnetic poetry on the refrigerator to form poems either salacious, nerdy, or dumb. Then we watched Four Weddings and a Funeral. Another convert.
As a Result
After CornellBoy left early Monday morning, I was two days behind and up to my ears in reading. Never so hectic before in my life. But I was victorious, so...
Today
Found a relaxing spot to sit on campus that I have never seen before. I sat there and finished reading Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man while the fall leaves swirled down.

http://www.ireport.com/docs/DOC-105800
I love this sooo much. Please for the love of God, watch this. The election will seem so much more fun, all of a sudden.

*resurfaces*
I am in the midst of typing a 4-5 compare-and-contrast paper. I hate compare-and-contrast. Compare-and-contrast is inane. I acknowledge that there is a time and a place for it, but when this 4-5 page paper is in technical, jargon-y French I find it hard to stomach.
Anyway, this break is by way of saying that reading Daniel Deronda, and talking about weird, sadistic Grandcourt marrying a woman just make her life miserable, for one English class at the same time as we're reading Wuthering Heights--where Heathcliff marries a woman just to make her life miserable--for another English class, doesn't give one a very good feeling about nineteenth century men.
Comparing and contrasting that might actually be interesting...
No, no. Focus, Nom de Plume, focus.
Salsa was fun today.
It's definitely fall now.
...
No more procrastination. Done.
*gulps, dives back under, en français*

I am taking Roommate J with me whenever I go shopping from now on.
1) She goes at the same pace as me.
2) She urged me to try on a dress I would never have noticed otherwise, and it fit so perfectly I wound up buying it.
We braved the NJ Transit buses to and from the mall, and came back bearing awesome clothes, and the self-imposed inability to spend any more money for the rest of the month (my exceptions: theater tickets with CornellBoy next weekend, and pains au chocolat).
(Ex)RussianRoommate and I had a flash of inspiration over dinner the other night: are there any French vampire movies? We couldn't think of any, although we're sure there are some, and then we came to the almost simultaneous conclusion that the French don't need vampire stories because they're not as sexually repressed. Feeling rather pleased with ourselves, we patted ourselves on the back, downed our salad, and went off to finish our homework before the inspiration passed.

New Maps of the World.
Slide #16 is especially striking.

Dear John McCain,

Although you are quite often the best of a bad lot, your judgment is very, very suspect.

Sincerely,
Nom de Plume

This morning there was that first nip of fall in the air. I had forgotten how happy that makes me. I walked to class, tea in hand--to fight off what felt like a cold this morning, but what may have just been the result of sleeping with my face covered (non-lethally! obviously) by a pillow all night--and very buoyant.
Last night, instead of working on my religion paper due Monday morning, I went through, copied, and pasted all of my Hall of the Revels entries into one word document, which I then backed up on my external hard drive. The reason for this? I realized that it's now been over a year since I started this blog, and to have all this writing, all this journal-ing--because it is a journal, even though I do censor myself and address a very tangible "you"--in one place seems absurd. Risky, even. If anything were to happen to Hall of the Revels and I hadn't backed anything up, I would be losing (tongue firmly lodged in cheek as I say this) verbal time capsules of every thought worthy of mass-sharing that I've had over the past year and a half.
Of course there are thoughts I've had that have been lost because they were more private and less bloggable, because I never wrote them down, but reading through my oldest entries last night I could still catch a glimpse of myself changing, and it was pretty fun to see.
Now I just need to add this one to the document, and I'm all set.

Very busy. Very, very busy. But still alive, and joyfully so. Rejoice!
Last Friday Neighbor C from the summer visited for the day. She lives in New Jersey so she took the train up and we hung out and ate at Panera and generally had a great time. She also bought a pair of Princeton pants, and we put together a care package to send to Intern T, who is still down there sweltering for the year.
Waiting to pick her up in the morning at the train station, I brought my notebook and my iPod and put my earbuds in and listened to Thomas Newman's (who is, I am convinced, a genius) Angels in America theme on repeat. It was rainy and it was the perfect temperature and it was a beautiful, introspective moment. I almost didn't want Neighbor C to arrive; it was so peaceful.
Five classes + magazine + salsa (yes, Roommate J and I decided to learn how to Salsa Dance. We are automatically that much cooler now) = tired me. But I swear if anything amazingly interesting happens, you'll be the first (or...fifth) to know.

My first tour of the year came along, and I found myself ushering thirty communists around campus in a tour that went thirty minutes over time and encompassed 20% more campus than usual. Before I go on I should point out that by communists I mean that they, apparently, live in a commune, not that they are big-C Communists.
Anyway, each week the tour guides get sent an e-mail with information about any large groups that will be coming. So we can, you know, complain to our roommates about having to show campus to seventeen Swedish tourists who don't care about distribution requirements and want to know about architecture. That kind of thing.
Anyway, I found out that "[man's name] and friends" were scheduled for our slot. This was strange already. Usually the groups have names like "Vlad's Family," or "Grades Grades Grades High School" or "Southwestern Baptist Church." Who was this [man's name] and why were 29 of his closest friends coming to campus with him?
I had already decided that I would volunteer to give the tour today. The weather was nice and the week before another of the tour guides in my slot had volunteered, letting the rest of us who were too bloated or sleep deprived or harassed take a week off. Well, I was feeling pretty good, I was wearing a nice blue scarf my mother bought me and life was looking up. So I said to the others, "I'll take the thirty old people. You can go home." They thanked me and left.
Then the group arrived, slow-moving and fifteen minutes late. I introduced myself and we set out. On our way to my first stopping point, I asked the man walking in the front what the occasion was.
"Well," he said, "we're from a camp."
My thought went something like this: ".....?"
"A community of adults," inserted his friend, and named a town in New Jersey I was unfamiliar with.
That didn't matter, though, because at this point I was taking stock of their clothes. Not hippies, I concluded, or at least not traditional ones. Maybe these were centrist hippies. Still. They lived in an "adult community." Presumably they weren't all engaged in a massive orgy or wife-swap 24/7. The idea of a commune made much more sense.
"Most of us were teachers," said the first man. Then they demanded to see the science buildings.
An hour and a half later I had been photographed in a group shot with them, asked more questions than I usually get per semester, and told that I was going places with my writing. I decided that I need to give tours to communists in their sixties more often.
Or maybe not. I only had ten minutes for lunch before my French class, so I said goodbye after dropping them at the museum (their next tour) and rushed off.
Someone else better take the big tour next week. I did my bit.

Yesterday Not-From-Canada-Girl and I went and saw Equus. It was awesome. The acting was fantastic, the set was phenomenal, the horses were convincing, the writing was great, and, yes, it must be said, Daniel Radcliffe was naked. Very naked.
Spending time with Flatmate S this summer gave me a new appreciation for set design. This one was perfect, and looked effortless, but must have taken a lot of time to construct. It felt like a mix between a temple and the Roman senate. The lighting was stark. Oh my goodness it was so good.

Huh. This is an interesting development.

You are a Social Liberal (68% permissive) and an... Economic Liberal (13% permissive) You are best described as a: Socialist Link: The Politics Test on Ok Cupid Also : The OkCupid Dating Persona Test

I just got back from a magazine meeting with my co-editor-in-chief and wow. I feel a little responsible. That is to say I feel like I have responsibilities, not that I'm responsible for some atrocity or something. :)
Publishing at Damn-Big-Midwestern-University High School was hectic because my associates never did anything on time. Here it's going to be hectic because the two of us have decided to bring out not two but three publications a year. We've also decided to have staff get-togethers every once and a while. This, I'm proud to say, was my idea.
Last year, I was really excited to start work on this magazine and meet people with similar interests in what fiction should accomplish in the world. Sadly, the then-editors-in-chief didn't have that kind of thing in mind. All our interactions took place via e-mail. Freshman this year who want to make friends with me can, hopefully.
Dinner and chatting tomorrow with HighSchoolClassmate and then on Saturday it's off to NYC to see Equus!

Saturday night Roommate J and I caught a free showing of Burn After Reading.
Three Things:
1) Brad Pitt. Some may have found him annoying. Annoying was Troy. Here, he was adorable.
2)George Clooney. Oh God. I don't care what the New Yorker said. This man can do no wrong.
3) John Malkovich. Of course Osborn Cox went to Princeton. Of course, of course, of course!
3a) And, since I can hear my mother in my head saying, "You just listed three men," Tilda Swinton! Frances McDormand. I don't know what Christopher Hitchens was smoking when he said women aren't funny.

Now that I've attended all of my five (!) fall classes, I'm able to give those oh-so witty encapsulations I'm apparently addicted to.
French--American Professor with a perfect accent. Native speakers are the other students. Lots of film vocab. Très intimidating, but probably pure awesome at the core.
English #1--We started by reading Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, which I had already read, but which still scares me. Think it's hard going to bed after reading it? Try walking back from the library in the dark.
English #2--OHMYGODYESILOVETHISCLASS. Taught by Master Awesome, this class promises to have the most quotes, notes, and memorable moments by the end of the semester.
Gender Studies--This class worries me. I'm worried that I'll fall so in love with it that I'll be tempted to minor in it.
Religion--Prof. Bagel, you're awesome. Little did I know that when I saw you as an articulate and *gasp* interesting talking head in a high school history documentary that I'd some day be taking your class. Looks as awesome as you. Just lighten up on the reading, would you. I've got Daniel Deronda to finish.

While typing this, Florida Flatmate H called. We had an awesome chat. I knew that I missed my friends from this summer, but I didn't realize how much until we had talked for a bit.

On Sunday we welcomed the new freshmen, I met up with I'm-Not-From-Canada-Girl to purchase Equus tickets, and then Roommate J, Russian(Ex)Roommate, and I went on a nighttime walk.
Monday found Downstairs Chatterer, Roommate J, CC, Russian(Ex)Roommate, and I rushing hither and thither buying books and visiting Soccer(Ex)Roommate and piking up parcels. Roommate J and I attempted to watch the dance troupes' showcase for the freshman, but they ran out of seats so instead we went back to the dorm and philosophized and painted our nails.
Today began with four hours of lecture-style updates from the tour guide troupe and then two hours of reading Daniel Deronda in the best reading nook ever.
Still on the horizon for tonight: dinner with Soccer(Ex)Roommate, and the arrival of HaHa.

On the last night of the weirdest summer of my life I would like to say, "STRINGER BELL IS DEAD."
That goes out to you, Dad. Tonight was Inspector Lynley, and pizza night. Could it get any better?

Really. I'll be driving back east for a Sunday morning arrival in my dorm starting tomorrow morning. Tomorrow's highlights include a visit to Uncle Hoagie-Free-Zone's house, which I have not yet seen but greatly anticipate, and the beginnings of my re-read of Daniel Deronda for Master Awesome's class.

...and it's September.
I'm not quite sure how that happened. One minute I was working in Florida, trying not to punch the new Lit Intern in the head and getting all worked up about having to leave all my new friends. Next minute I was at The Cabin with the Aged Ps, reading Dorothy Dunnett and playing Clue (its was Colonel Mustard four times out of five. What the hell?). Next I was home with two glorious weeks ahead of me.
I met up with HarvardGirl and Schinkel and Trebor and canoed. I accidentally (probably subconsciously on purpose for years of unrequited crushing) pitched Trebor in the lake when I slipped climbing out. We spent hours taking silly photos and laughing and playing Apples to Apples and watching the DNC (yes, yes, YES!) and lying with our heads on each other's stomachs and laughing in order: "Ha." "Ha ha." "Ha ha ha." "Ha ha ha ha." Etc.
Now it's September and I have four days until I go back to Princeton.
And so, without further ado, I present Things I Have Learned This Summer.

Things I Have Learned This Summer, Florida Edition
1) When play writing, DO NOT use direct address.
2) When play writing, DO NOT speak in cliches.
3) When play writing, DO NOT reveal everything about the characters at once. Allow for some mystery.
4) When play writing, DO NOT rush the ending.
5) When play writing, DO NOT write about dysfunctional families that aren't.
6) DO NOT shove the lettuce to the back of the drawer.
7) DO NOT wash your new towel with your black shirts, even if it saves money.
8) When play writing, DO open strong to hook the audience.
9) When play writing, the audience should be able to understand all that has led up to the ending, in hindsight.
10) DO chaperone couch cuddling.
11) DO yell "Go Home!" when about to be mugged. (NB This did not happen to me, but it did work, and Flatmate M remains un-mugged).
12) When play writing, DO say something old in a new way.
13) When play writing, DO say something new.
14) DO watch the Olympics.
15) DO go and watch Brideshead Revisited with people unfamiliar to the story. When they say they want to read the book, you'll feel virtuous.
16) DO go to goth parties, toga parties, game nights, goodbye parties, opening night extravaganzas, tiki bars, and evenings at the Ritz. It doesn't matter if you don't drink. If your friends are there, you'll have fun.
17) DO volunteer for tough jobs.
18) DO make friends with the photocopier, even if it turns out to be a double crossing hussy.
19) DO stay in touch with people and send them mail and ask after them.
20) DO NOT live in Florida. It's too hot.

This past week has been incredibly slow at work. BossLady went on vacation and left Intern T, Intern S, and I each a list of things to get done. I was done with my list on Tuesday. The rest of the week was spent helping out the education department and reading plays that live in the Library and rest tantalizingly close to my desk, by my ear.
Yesterday was not the best day, all told. I sealed envelopes for two hours and then walked home and after checking the car for something Dad was looking for, promptly shut and locked the door with my keys inside. Following the wise advice of the Ps, I called AAA and they sent a locksmith to help me. He came on time, but spent the entire time staring at me. He shoved the coat-hanger-y thing down the window while staring at me, opened the door while staring at me, and handed me my keys while staring at me. It was very weird and uncomfortable, and our conversation, while excellent future story fodder, was even stranger:
Him: (seeing my license plate) Are you on vacation or do you live here?
Me: I work here. I have a summer internship.
Him: That's cool.
Me: It's a little too hot here for my taste.
Him: It's like deer.
Me: What?
Him: It's like deer. Their blood gets thicker up north. I bet you could get heat stroke in ten minutes easy.
Me: You're...probably right.
Him: Here you go. (hands me the keys)
Me: Thanks.
Him: (very suggestive) You have a nice day.
Me: You too. (scurries back inside)
Last night I watched the Opening Ceremonies of the Olympics and got excited about the US team's outfits, Sergei Bubka, and the fact that the last opening ceremony I watched was in a motel in Nebraska on the way to (or back from?) The Cabin.
Tonight we're having a games night get-together for the last Saturday that Flatmate H and I will be in town. Intern T's boyfriend is visiting, so we'll get to meet him before they go gallivanting off to their evening plans.
This week will be strange. I can already tell. After I wrap up one major project on Monday (I was going to do it today, but the place I was supposed to get photos from was closed), I'll probably be given day-to-day office work until I leave for Colorado a week from today.

I've seen two movies in the past two days.
Yesterday was my day off and I celebrated by doing what I normally do: driving to the farthest possible movie theater and seeing something ridiculous (see: Sex and the City) or beautifully filmed and well plotted (see: The Fall). After much internal debate during which time I decided that Mamma Mia was too ridiculous to spend seven dollars on, even for me, I opted on The X-Files movie.
Three Things:
1) I've never seen the series, so I don't really know what I'm talking about, but I know about Mulder and Scully's Josh-and-Donna relationship and this is exactly the kind of sequel I would have envisioned for them.
2) This movie raised a lot of ethical questions and then didn't harp on finding answers to them, which was pretty classy, if I say so myself.
3) Creeeepy, with the severed limbs and the dogs and especially the pool scene oh my God.
3a) WEST VIRGINIA = BAD NEWS

Then, today, just now in fact, I saw the movie I've been waiting all summer to see. That's right. Brideshead Revisited. Intern N, Intern T, Intern A2, Intern J and I went to see it. It was the perfect group, because we're all mature enough to handle complex plots, which, love them as I do, not all of my new friends here are capable of. Afterwards, Intern N (who LOVED IT; yay!) said that he intended to read the book. I told him to go for it, but to expect a lot less kissing and a lot more religious angst.
On that note,
Three Things:
1) I would like to disagree with whichever reviewer it was (the New York Times?) who likened the lead actor, Matthew Goode, to a piece of asparagus. If he was at any time inert (I only noticed hints of inertia in the last twenty minutes), it was only because his character was.
2) Gorgeous. Everything. Everything but Emma Thompson's teeth. Very British, those. White though, which was good. Nonetheless, she was beautiful in the movie (evil but beautiful) and she's aged well.
2a) Ben Whisaw? Awesome. Hayley Atwell? SMOKING HOT. Seriously, none of us who went would be interested in her on an ordinary day, but were I suddenly plonked in the middle of the film (or Line of Beauty, for that matter, which she was also in), Charles wouldn't be the only character dabbling in sexual confusion.
3) The edits that were made were perfect. It was streamlined and, although there was of course a certain point of view that this director was aiming for, it was pretty darn faithful to the spirit of the book.
3a) Still: not enough Anthony Blanche.

This week I feel like an entirely different type of intern. It was awesome before and it's awesome now, just in a different way. I'm helping to develop our next cabaret show with the three most important people in the theater. My job is to draw up the playlists, compile lyrics, and take notes during the listening sessions. Tomorrow we're moving on to starting to write the show. I was very officially handing out packets at the beginning of the meeting and the artistic director asked me what year in school I am. I told him and he said, "You're young, then." He sounded impressed. My head is rather swollen.
I'm also manning concessions for the summer camp. The kids are cute, and at least two of them have really obvious crushes on me.

Just saw The Dark Knight with Interns T, D, and C, and Flatmates M and S. I loved it. I was definitely in the fetal position for the last fourth of the movie.
Three Things:
1) Chicago looks great on film. I love that city, and I love how creepy and beautiful it can look simultaneously at night.
2) Heath Ledger was everything the reviews said he was: brilliant, and scary as hell. It was one of those performances where you can't forget the story of the person playing the character, but it doesn't take away from the performance, it just adds another layer that, in this case, was terrifying.
3) This movie was so dark. I thought that Batman Begins was dark, but there's really no comparison. The scene with the ferries was amazing because I honestly didn't know how it was going to end.
3a) Maggie Gyllenhaal's last scene was so good, and the fact that it happened made the movie stronger.
3b) I was so glad Gary Oldman didn't die.
3c) Did I mention that I was in the fetal position?

Recommendations abound! Even the most jaded action viewers will like this one.

Well, the show's over. I feel pretty sad about this, since even when it was a horrible night, the thing was still fun. No more smelly actor costumes, no more practically lunging onstage with Actor P while I zip his dress up until the very last minute, no more dragging those Egypt flats around (thank God), no more preshow madlibs with Intern A and Intern S, no more light check, no more sitting on the floor and admiring StageManagerGuy's smile while he makes eyes at Flatmate M, no more dying of laughter backstage during Actor B's weird vocalizations.
It was a good time, and strike last night didn't take too, too long. At around 1:10 am Flatmate S's awesome boss, ShopGuy came up to Intern D, Intern T, and I and said, "We only really need one of you now, so decide who's going home." D and T said almost simultaneously, "Well, Nom de Plume should go home no matter what. She's been here since 3:30." It was one of those moments when it's clear other people are thinking of you that makes you want to cry. So then we flipped a coin and Intern D went home too. We decided on the way back that we'll bake Intern T a cake or something.
Today I'm going to see The Dark Knight with Intern C and Intern D. Until then I'm sitting in the apartment and reading. It's nice to get a day off.
Forgotten hilarious anecdote from Intern A's going away party: Intern T seeing Middlesex on the bookshelf and freaking out. Apparently it's his favorite book and it changed his life. So I told him my Jeffrey Eugenides story and he rhapsodized about Princeton and the novel really close to my face. Let's just say that at this point in the evening his depth perception was probably a little wonky. It was all I could do to keep from laughing.
Side note: Jane Eyre is my favorite book, but I don't think it changed my life, except maybe inasmuch as I have unrealistic expectations of silent and brooding men.

This morning I woke up too early for someone who doesn't get to leave the theater tonight until three in the morning. Instead of wailing and cursing my fate, I rolled over and picked up Michael Tolliver Lives. When I finished it, I finished the Tales of the City series, which I've been enjoying since reading period.
I recently had a conversation with Dad about book snobs. I'm the first to admit that I'm a book snob, but a specialized one. For instance, I'm definitely not one that avoids light reading at all costs. The Tales of the City series, despite its often serious themes, is light reading, but it's really good. It's perfect for a 95 degree summer, or a time when you should be studying for tests but instead hole yourself up in a library with a good novel. Or novels, in this case. There are seven of them, and once you read one you'll want to read them all.
The good news: they're short. My mom could read one in a day. I probably could too, come to think of it, but I think for the most part they each took me two days to read. The way I read, I'm not surprised. I'll stop and savor a passage. Sometimes I'll shut the book on a finger and rest my forehead on the spine, giggling or staring off into space. I'm that girl on airplanes, the one who alternates reading with staring out the window, thinking about the book.
So now down to my down-and-dirty stats:
Favorite book of the series: Sure of You
Favorite character: This wasn't have been my answer for the first two books or so, but Brian Hawkins for sure. For his many flaws, there's a lot in him that's admirable. Plus he's hilariously written, and is, in the last book, the kind of father I have: one that celebrates family and friendships and who, pushing sixty, goes tramping through the wilderness looking for some cave or something (see Michael Tolliver Lives for the Brian example, and numerous Cabin examples for the Dad example).
Favorite aspect of the series: Another tough one, but the Dickensian aspect is definitely my favorite part of this series, and it encompasses a lot of my other favorite things (incorporating a group of incongruous but similar people in one series, weird names, finding humor in nearly everything). The first five books were serialized, as Dickens was. Also, all of the characters interrelate in ways that, if they aren't apparent in the first book, become apparent later on. It's a tightly crafted web.
Things I Regret: Mary Ann's character arc. That made me sad. Also, all the cradle-robbing jokes in Michael Tolliver Lives. We get it.
Honorable Mentions: Anna Madrigal, the scene between Jon and Michael in the hospital, Wilfred and his fox, the first line of the first book, the Six Feet Under shoutout, Ian McKellen's dedication, the scenes with Booter in Wimminwood, Irwin (sort of), Thack's trellis and the manner in which he would call people out on offensive things they said, God's Green Earth/Plant Parenthood, Mama Tolliver's final photo, and Mary Ann's Cleveland-phobia.
And if you want to know what any of those things mean, you'll just have to read the books.

We had a great show tonight, possibly the best (bar that Act One once upon a time). Tomorrow's closing night, which is kind of hard to believe.
I spent a half-hour the other morning reading reviews of The Dark Knight semi-outloud to the literary office, and I suspect you can all guess what I shall be doing with my day off on Sunday (after I spend twelve hours at the theater doing two shows literally back to back, striking the set, and putting the new one in. Somehow everyone else in costumes got off except me. Maybe I'm too efficient. (I've learned to hate those compliments that leave me with more work).
Tonight we had a going away party for Actors P & B and Intern A. At this party, Intern N came up to me and said out of the blue, "You like movies, right?"
Me: "Um...yes?"
Him: "Do you want to go see Brideshead Revisited when it comes out?"
Me: .....*incoherent squealing*...Um, yes.
Him: Good. I've watched the preview like seven times now.
So I have a Brideshead Revisited buddy, which was something I never expected to have down here.

Enjoying my day off today involved driving to the farthest possible movie theater, buying a large Pepsi and seeing WALL-E.
Three things:
1) So cute. SO cute. Pixar can make anything cute.
2) So dark. SO dark. I have a feeling that this was one of those movies that doesn't bother kids, but adults walk away from nervous, on the brink of tears and needing a massage. (Example A: when Dad and I saw The Truman Show together when I was ten.)
3) I loved all of the scenes in his house, especially when he discovered new things about the junk he collected. Those scenes were beautiful.
3a) BILLY BASS!!!

P.S. The shows yesterday actually went well. Actors B and P were appropriately shamefaced when we brought up the fact that in the interest of our last week of performances they may not want to, you know, go entirely insane just yet.

Last night's show was the strangest yet. The first half was the best show we've ever had. The changes were quick, the audience was very responsive, and the actors were in a buoyant mood. The scene in Egypt went well for the most part. Actor B got stuck in a set piece when he was exiting the sarcophagus and almost brought the whole scene down on our heads, but Intern-and-ex-Navy-man J and I caught it at the last moment and held it for the rest of the scene. The parts following that were fine and then came the part when Actor P forgot the line cuing Actor B back on to the stage, making his entrance late and awkward and changing the mood of the rest of the show.
From that point (ten minutes from the end) to the conclusion of the show we had two costumes rip, a water bottle explode all over the floor, and Actor P for some reason deciding to "help" us in dressing him by pulling away and going on stage with one arm stuck inside his costume.
At the end of it all, we stood there stunned and Intern A put forth her opinion that, "I don't care if you're [redacted] Angela Lansbury. You don't act like that."
It was supremely weird, and the dressers exited the building at the end agreeing that it was definitely a manic-depressive performance.
We came home to discover Flatmate H, and Interns D, T, and N mildly sloshed in our living room. They had attempted to go see that night's improv performance, but it was sold out so they went out and bought rum and Coke instead.
SexyDownstairsNeighborMan joined us and brought his iPod and speakers and fairly quickly the whole thing turned in to a four hour impromptu dance party. (Readers with oddly keen memories will know that I LOVE impromptu dance parties.)
I went to bed after hour three and miraculously the shift in music from frenetic to mellow coupled with my earplugs and very loud fan let me fall asleep in minutes while the party continued for another hour five feet from my bed.
This morning I woke up and started reading Sure of You in bed while listening to rain fall outside, another one of my favorite things.
We'll see what the shows today are like. We'll see if the feisty Intern (and Costume Mistress) A will indeed give P & B what for. Tune in next time.

Here's the past week in a nutshell:

Monday-- Day off. Saw Get Smart, returned to find Intern N carrying a watermelon into housing. Ate taco dinner and watched others eat said watermelon, spiked.
Tuesday-- Returned to literary work in the mornings, picked up parents at airport, performance at night.
Wednesday-- Breakfast with parents, work, parents come to see play, I can hear them laughing from backstage.
Thursday-- FINALLY download circus music with that guy who was supposed to come in weeks ago at work, lunch with parents, discussion of the play and its many references, trip to an awesome museum, performance at night, birthday drinks for Intern A at the Ritz, rest of night/morning spent keeping Intern T and Intern N faithful to their boyfriends.
Friday-- THE FOURTH OF JULY! Day off from literary, hang out with parents, see Hancock, eat ice cream, performance in the evening, drive like mad to parents' where we watch fireworks on the beach, Spanish-late steak dinner, ten hours of sleep.
Saturday-- pain au chocolat for breakfast, two performances, shower, reading Significant Others in bed.

Today: two performances
Tomorrow: Day off and Mom's birthday!

Those who know me know that throughout high school although I loved theater, I never considered myself a theater kid. When the truth, of course, is: if I'm not a theater kid then who is?
I would like to amend my statement.
I have come to the conclusion that there are, with varying degrees of overlap allowed, three types of theater people. The first is the kind I refused to group myself with in high school: musical theater people. The second: improv people. The third: fans of straight plays (Note for those of you not up on the lingo: these are not necessarily plays featuring straight people, although that happens from time to time, but non-musical plays). I definitely belong in the third category. When writing, reading, and viewing I prefer straight plays to musicals. That isn't to say that I don't like musicals or improv; my enthusing about Spring Awakening and Quipfire disproves that statement.
These are the things you realize while driving to get dinner between the matinée and the evening show.
If I had to quickly categorize my colleagues here, I would say, for example, that Intern T likes straight plays, Flatmate H likes musicals, and Flatmate M likes improv. Or not. Who knows, really, in the end?

Last night was opening night, and the show went really well. Before the show I got to tell Intern J, who was reading a collection of Noel Coward's plays, my Noel Coward anecdote that I learned on QI. Apparently he was walking with the Queen Mum (then the queen; they were good friends) and they passed one of the Welsh guards. Noel gave the guard a look and the Queen Mum said something to the effect of, "I wouldn't if I were you, dear. They count them before they put them out."
We're still getting better at quick changes, and the audience laughed at all the ordinary places, and some places they've never laughed at before. At rehearsal before the show we worked out curtain call, and all the dressers get their moment in the sun as costumed arms waving from various doors and portrait holes. I'm the one down stage left in a costume best described as FREAKY AS HELL.
The show was followed by the theater's opening night party, where all the cast and crew and theater staff and interns get together in the theater lobby, dressed up and eat and drink. We took tons of pictures (I forgot my camera, but others got really good ones) and then I helped clean up before we all headed out to the sports bar hangout of the theater. I had cheese fries and chatted with a lot of the other interns before walking back home with Intern K, the Girl From Ordinary. I got back to the apartment and brushed my teeth before Flatmate M and Intern N (a really nice guy who hadn't talked to me much until the sports bar) came back. Intern N was going to spend the night on our couch so as not to drive home, and Flatmate M was still recovering from repeatedly being asked on a date by Actor P. We chatted for a while before EVERYONE ELSE came back and started raiding our fridge. I sat for a while before I started falling asleep in the living room at which point I went to bed, earplugs and pillow at the ready. I love having my own room, because it makes that possible.
Today and tomorrow we do two shows. We'll see how that goes, but I'm really pleased that opening night went as well as it did.

Tonight was our first preview, and the first time we've made all of the quick changes without trouble. The audience was really great as well. They had an infectious laugh that had us laughing backstage less in response to what the actors were doing (although we still laugh at that) than at the sheer volume and stamina of it. Actor P and Actor B were in fine form and although Actor P sweats buckets, we managed to get through the evening without too many of his clothes adhering irrevocably to him.
Tomorrow I was supposed to come to rehearsal at 12:30 with the other dressers, but I got a call from Intern A (the head dresser / our costume-mistress) saying to come in at 12:00 to learn how to check light levels. I was privately a little irritated at this turn of events until Flatmate M showed up and mentioned that I was picked for this duty because it emerged at notes that I was "the most competent of the dressers." Needless to say, my head swelled a bit and I set my alarm with more glee than before.
Now to sleep.

Exaaaaauuuuuusted.
Today we were in rehearsal from three until ten at night, and we only got through Act One. We did the trickiest series of changes again and again because the body double for the vampire was being shown the ropes and he needed to be taught ten or twelve times.
Last night was fun, though. I went with Intern D and Intern S (the only two who have been here less time than me) to a little tiki bar on the marina. It was adorable, and I drove designatedly to our next stop, a local eatery where we met Intern K (from Ordinary, a nearby Midwestern Town) and Flatmate H for cheese fries. We then proceeded to the beach where we frolicked in the powdered sugar-soft sand for about twenty minutes before coming home. The moon was beautiful on the water. It was one of those nature moments that you know you'll remember for a long time.
Bed now.

Tuesday and Wednesday nights were occupied with installing the set and nailing it all together. The best parts were playing "I'm going on a picnic and I'm bringing..." with Flatmate S, Intern J, and Intern T while painting pieces of the set yet to be installed.
Yesterday I woke up at eleven and got ready to go on a Target/Old Navy expedition with Neighbor C and Intern S. We needed to get black clothes for the quick change/crew duties we have for the play. It was a fun outing. On the way there we talked about jobs and how daunting it is for Neighbor C, who gets kicked off of her parents' health insurance in December. I got two black shirts at Old Navy and at Target I used my massive birthday gift card to get black pants, shoes, David Sedaris' new book (excerpts of which BerkleyGirl and I heard him read live three years ago), earplugs (which, I am pleased to report, I use only a fraction of the time here as I do at Princeton), and Cheerios.
Then we went to the invited run at three. Some subscribers were there, invited on a first come first served basis, and it was really interesting to hear their reactions. The jokes that we laughed at, they didn't, and the jokes that they laughed at we didn't. Or if we did, it was me letting out a solitary giggle at some Rebecca reference. After the run we listened to the director's notes and then we took a dinner break, coming back from seven to eleven to practice Act One's quick changes. The actors were very nice and helpful during them, even though it took us a while to get the hang of switching from a dress to a gamekeeper's outfit in under twenty seconds. Tonight we do Act Two, and the changes are even faster, but I think we won't have to spend as much time doing the same change again and again since we seem to have the hang of certain switches.
StageManagerGuy told me I was a fierce dresser during our first ten minute break (it's so great following Equity rules) and Flatmate M (the assistant stage manager) told me I had a really serious face on while I was changing the guys. She has dubbed it my Princeton Face. :)
After rehearsal I beat Flatmate M back to the apartment, much to the chagrin of Flatmate H, who I found lying on the couch when I walked in the door and who looked up at me and said, "Where's [Flatmate M]? I want a hot dog!"
As soon as she returned, all the Flatmates and SexyDownstairsNeighborMan went to Sonic to grab a quick bite of unhealthy food. I drove. Everyone loves (pseudo-)my (real-)car.

Yesterday I woke up around eleven and hurried to catch the 12:15 showing of Sex and the City.
Three Things:
1) Those books Carrie had supposedly written looked exactly like the Tales of the City format. I got very excited about that, and I'm sure the screenwriter considered it as well.
2) I like Charlotte. She's sweet without being irritating.
3) This movie made me want to cry. I have no idea why, especially since that was NOT the intended response.
3a) Maybe I was just sorry for Samantha's boyfriend.
Then I came back to the apartment and relaxed until it was time to watch two hours of the Tony's. They were pretty lackluster (at least the parts I saw), but it was fun to watch with other theater fans, and I was still really excited at having seen so many of the nominees.
Intern S, Neighbor C, Flatmate S and I had to leave before it was over to go do set changeover. We arrived at the theater at ten and left at three. The entire time was filled with heavy lifting and moving. It was less than fun after I got separated from my initial work group (Flatmate S, Intern W, and Intern T, who suggested we form a moving company called "Three Girls and a Gay") and was instead put on the not-as-fun detail of suspending an entire set piece by holding onto a rope for dear life.
Today Intern T, Intern S and I got to come into the office at noon, which we did. I spent the day shredding paper and sorting mail (including a postcard for me from Mom!) and reading synopses (my favorite job). I won't be back in the office until July 1st, because my secondary duties are kicking in with this impending show, so I felt kind of sad to leave the office at the end of the day.
Tonight was a blast. I went to a minor league baseball game with Flatmate M, Neighbor C, SexyDownstairsNeighborMan, Intern E (whom I had seen before but never met because he lives with his grandparents and not in housing), and StageManagerGuy, who is awesome. We had a great time. Highlights include enthusing about In Bruges with SexyDownstairsNeighborMan and StageManagerGuy. I loved that they knew The Lieutenant of Inishmore came from the same author. Yay theater people!
We got back to the apartment and played a game of Quick Scrabble, introduced to us by Intern T.
I won several times.
Tomorrow I don't go in until three, but then it's for more heavy lifting and set-building. Wish me luck!

Last night = best night here so far. Around nine, things were slow. Flatmate S and had just watched Firefly and half of A Prairie Home Companion and she was considering going to the movies. She left and Neighbor C came over. She and Flatmate H and I sat around and talked for a while, and then Intern T called and he told us that he and SexyDownstairsNeighborMan and Flatmate M had gone to Target to buy Scrabble and Scattergories. They returned, and then three of them and me sat down to an intense and really fast game of Scrabble. Intern T won, by a lot, but I came in second and got rid of my tiles first. He's 23, and apparently is awesome at Jeopardy too according to his roommate, SexyDownstairsNeighborMan. We have to have a showdown some time.
Then we all played Scattergories and Flatmate H and I were a team. We won. It was awesome. If you've ever played Scattergories you'll understand that, like Apples to Apples, the best parts are the ones between rounds where the words are read out loud. My shining moment came in a rather un-PC word choice that I will not share with my internet audience. But it was fairly hilarious, and won me the adoration of the entire room.

Just came back from bargain shopping with Neighbor C, Intern S, and Flatmate H. I didn't buy anything, but it was fun to go shopping at Goodwill and mock the fashions and watch the others make good purchases. Now I'm sitting with Flatmate S watching Firefly.

Last night a huge group of intern girls went out to a Greek place for dinner. It was delicious and it was nice eating meat. Our return to the apartment was prefaced by a run to the liquor store where I stood around and searched for beer glasses for Dad while the others got their favorite drinks for round two of the evening: the Rent drinking game.
This, as Flatmate H explained to us, involves taking a drink whenever anyone mentions "love," or "rent." Very few people were still playing after the first song. Even drinking Fanta was difficult when all that love and rent was being bandied about. :)
Most people trickled home while the movie was still running, and in the end it was just Flatmate S, Intern W (the most experienced of the bunch; that's intern-wise, not drinking-wise) and I. I went to bed at 1:20 while Flatmate S kept Intern W talking for another two hours until she was good to drive home.
I was surprised at how good a time I had. It was nice hanging out with people, and there was no pressure to drink at all.
This morning I went and wrote in Starbucks for a while before heading to The Bookstore and buying French magazines to brush up with. I have lately become paranoid about my French class of next semester and so has DownstairsChatterer, or so he tells me via Facebook.

		I will marry Daniel Day-Lewis.
		After a wild honeymoon, We will settle down in Walden, Colorado in our fabulous Apartment.
		We will have 2 kid(s) together.
		Our family will zoom around in a blue Subaru Outback.
		I will spend my days as a Editor, and live happily ever after.

June 8th—8:47 pm addition

After Panera I stopped in at Barnes & Noble and ended up getting my favorite beverage, the chocolate chip frappachino (props to The Street for introducing me to this fabulous comestible) in their Starbucks. I opened my computer and started working on my summer short story project, killing time as the movie time drew nearer. There was a man seated two seats down from me at the bar facing the window. He was grading papers. I didn’t notice him get up to go get another drink, but I did notice him come back because he stood halfway between out chairs and spoke to me.
Man: (holding up a frappachino) You’re a bad influence on me.
Nom de Plume: (laughs) Oh.
Man: Just so long as you don’t smoke crack. (sits)
Nom de Plume: (laughs, nervously)
Man: (after a moment) You don’t, do you?
Nom de Plume: No. So you’re in the clear.
It would be nice to flirted with for once by a man under the age of thirty. That’s all I ask, really.
So after my Barnes & Noble adventure I went to see The Fall. I have come to the conclusion that Roger Ebert is God and the New York Times doesn’t have a heart. Then again, Roger Ebert is a fairly intellectual guy who likes a good drama or well-done comedy, but isn’t above liking romantic comedies from time to time, sees the good in scatological humor when used sparingly, and grew up in NeighboringMidwesternTown. In short, he and I have a similar background and a similar taste in movies, as evinced by the fact that I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve disagreed with him on a film’s merits (The Usual Suspects, I’m looking at you).
Anyway, Roger Ebert loved The Fall and so did I. Recommendations abound.
Three things:
1) Lee Pace is all kinds of attractive and boy can he act. Oh my God. I may be forced to watch Pushing Daisies now.
2) The little girl was so cute. Whoever wrote her lines was a genius. In fact, all of the dialogue between Roy and Alexandria was stuff I would sell my legs to write. And speaking of legs, that part with the toe checking? May be my favorite new scene I’ve watched this year.
3) Beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. This is the most beautiful movie I’ve ever seen. The cinematography needs an Oscar. Also, the entire movie used no computer-generated special effects and was shot on a shoestring budget over the course of four years. Think about that when you see it and understand why Roger Ebert and I are so in awe.
3a) AAAAAHHHHHH!!! I need someone else to see it NOW.

I got home and chatted with Flatmate S and Intern J for a while before eating dinner. Then Flatmate H and Neighbor C came in. They were shortly followed by SexyDownstairsNeighborMan and Flatmate M. We all sat around and talked and then they went to see a movie, leaving Flatmate S and I here together. She and I are definitely the quietest, so it’s nice to get some time in the apartment to ourselves, I think. I’m sitting in the living room writing and listening to thunder rumble in the distance, very relaxed.

June 11th, 2008 7:08 pm
I'm watching Serenity with Flatmate S right now. Intern S, the final literary intern showed up, and I'm reserving judgment until she has time to settle in more.
Monday night all the interns came over and we and our neighbors made breakfast for dinner for everyone. I was in charge of dishes before and after and I did my part well. Then a lot of people went to Sonic and I stayed behind to watch Superbad with SexyDownstairsNeighborMan, Intern T, and Flatmates M and H.
Last night I went to Karaoke Night with the whole gang. I didn't sing, of course, but I did have a great time chatting with Flatmate S and listening to CostumeLady and Intern T gossip about staff members.
Work lately has been great. I've been doing a lot of things, but the best has been when I read synopses sent in my playwrights without agents. (They send in synopses and ten pages of sample dialog and we let them know if we want to hear more.) I picked four out of the twenty I read yesterday and today that I liked and wanted to order and BossLady agreed with me. (YAY!) I sent out the letters to the playwrights too. The rejection letters were very polite. The query letters were brisk and to the point. It was awesome.

Yesterday I got into work only to find that I was the only person working in the admin office area and that the door to The Library was locked. I hunted down one of the costume shop guys and although he didn't have a key, he took me around the building(s) looking for one. We were unsuccessful and I called BossLady on her cellphone and left a message. Then I started recycling scripts in the outer office, which I was supposed to do anyway. While I was going that, GrantWriter showed up (I startled her by popping off the floor behind a desk where I was seated ripping rejected plays out of reusable folders) and it turned out she knew where a spare key was. So after rummaging in the desk of the woman next to her, she let me in to The Library to continue my work.
I worked pretty solidly for four hours uploading the cabaret video, reading Southern Comforts, and temporarily completing my play compilation spreadsheet before leaving at six. I got home and hung out with Flatmates M and H and Neighbor C for a while before M left and C brought The Muppet Show over from her apartment. They called Intern J, the loudest and oldest of us all, and some other guys and invited them to join us. They seemed unenthused for the most part, aside from Intern J who said he was pumped to watch the muppets before heading out to his favorite gay bar at eleven. We chatted for a little longer until he showed up and we started watching an episode wherein Alice Cooper guest stars. It was pretty disturbing. Midway through the episode we were joined by Intern T, just off the phone with his boyfriend, Flatmate S, fresh from the shop and totally paint covered, and SexyDownstairsNeighborMan (Intern D, but I like that name better), who had just gone for a run. We watched two more episodes (Liberace and Loretta Lynn) and then started playing Apples to Apples when Interns A, N, and K joined us. Even Flatmate M made it back from her rehearsal in time to play a few hands. She and I were locked in a dead heat until I pulled ahead with "Oblivious--Boys" to clinch the Apples to Apples Winner title.
Then we started playing a game called Celebrity, which is sort of a mixture of charades and Taboo, and it was absolutely hilarious. My team won that as well, mostly because, as Intern T pointed out, it was the team with the Literary Interns on it. Huzzah!
I have discovered that within the theater, there are certain stereotypes about certain interns. The stage managers seem to be the most fun to be around (and rightly so, because they're also the nicest), the management interns are popular types, the literary interns are intellectuals, the costumes shop ones are artsy, the shop ones are awkward and the list goes on. It's definitely not true all the time--of course not--but like most stereotypes there is at least some, however glancing, basis in fact. Anyway, we won the game. :)
I headed to bed around one after reading a few chapters of Babycakes. I read more this morning, pausing briefly to field a Paris call from Mom. Now I'm in my favorite Panera, and at 2:30 I'm going to see The Fall, a movie Roger Ebert loved and everyone else hated.

June 5, 2008 9:44 pm

I was given two hours off this morning to make up for the two hours I spent tonight taping the cabaret show (which was EXCELLENT), but I only took one and showed up at work early. I spent all morning making photocopies and scans of plays to be given to the casting man (NPR voice guy who hired me) and printed out two plays sent in by an agent the theater likes a lot. One of them had a photo of a Chihuahua dressed as a nun on the cover. I didn’t quite know what to make of that.
Today was Soon-to-be-not-Intern D’s last day and he mostly sat there looking around the Library nostalgically. After lunch I read a play set in 1967 in Haifa, and then started in on a project where I put the 2008-2009 theater seasons of tons of contemporary theaters into a spreadsheet. It may take me the whole of my natural life. Luckily BossLady said that it was a loooong project.
At lunch I went and got my library card, thanks to Flatmate H who gave me my letter from the theater saying that I could get one for free. Now I can read Babycakes. Huzzah!
Dinner was a rapid salad and then I went to videotape Outlaws and Angels, which the theater put together with a team of New York actors. They were really good. Now I’m watching Six Feet Under, pending going to sleep and rising early to finish up my intern orientation. Lunch break will find me at the library, doubtless. ☺


June 6th, 2008, 8:53 pm

I'm sitting on the porch with Flatmate H right now where we can get a faint internet connection to the house next door. Today was made up of going to the library and getting Babycakes (yay!), reading The Mystery of Irma Vep which I'll be doing crew for when it gets going, continuing my lifelong compilation project, and going to a roundtable reading with BossLady, BigBossMan, actors, and the playwright. It was AWESOME. It was heartening to see that real playwrights writing for real, well respected theaters go through the same process as I did in Nebraska.
Tomorrow I work noon to six and then I think on Sunday I'm going to see the Sex and the City movie. Just now SexyDownstairsNeighborMan joined us. He has a girlfriend. It's sad.
I had pizza for dinner tonight with Flatmate H and Flatmate S and Neighbor C, so I think I'm making friends.

June 3rd, 2008 8:32 pm

Today was my first day of work after being loosely oriented and checked into housing yesterday. I crept back into the apartment at six thirty after dropping Mom and Dad off at Tampa airport for their eeeaaarly flights home and startled Flatmate H, who was asleep on the couch in the air-conditioned living room and who I had never met before. (I had met Flatmate S and Flatmate M the day before, and both seemed nice, but I left them in favor of spending one last night with the Ps.) I rolled into bed and slept soundly with my contacts in until nine o’clock when I peeled my eyes open, rolled out of bed, got dressed, said good morning to Flatmate M, and hurried off to food shop before heading to work at ten. Ordinarily we start at nine, but BossLady apparently had pity on me. The food store was crewed entirely by old people. Let me tell you, to have an eighty-year-old checkout lady call you ma’am is a supremely disconcerting experience.
After the joy of lugging the food back inside and storing it in my corners of the fridge and pantry, I hurried off to the theater where I met BossLady, who had evidently had pity on herself as well, on the way in. We headed to the office (henceforth called the Library, because that’s what everyone else calls it) where Intern T and Soon-to-be-not-Intern D (he’s nearing the end of his shift and will be replaced by his summer counterpart next week) greeted us cheerily. I learned at dinner tonight from Flatmate H that Intern T almost went out with one of the Spring Awakening leads, and I squealed over one degree of separation. I got logged into my computer and taught the finer points of reading scripts, entering information into the database, and filling out reports until lunch, when I grabbed a bite to eat back at the apartment with Flatmate M and Flatmate H, who I met properly.
When I got back to work I read two plays, filled out two reports, battled with the photocopier, learned that we have an official intern orientation meeting tomorrow morning and Friday morning, got assigned parking lot duty for tomorrow’s matinee during the heat of the day (I will wear jeans and A LOT of sunscreen), researched the Amazon Kindle, went to a Company Meeting where the theater director gave us the “when I was in high school I found myself through theater” speil, and walked with Intern T back to housing. He confirmed that I had heard about tonight’s Applebee’s Karaoke Night and I confessed to him that I am, in fact, a karaoke virgin. He said, “That’s kind of awesome, actually.” I asked him if he thought I would be scarred for life. He said no.
I had Chinese food for dinner with Flatmate H and Neighbor C, where it finally emerged that not only am I the youngest one, but I go to Princeton. There was highly vocal exclaiming that I will not reprint here.
So here I am, showered and dressed, and waiting for the karaoke to start at ten thirty. I think I’ll drive myself so that I can come back early if necessary. I am completely exhausted from the drive, and from my first day. Intern T told me that the first day is the longest, and if that’s true then I’m in luck, because I had a great time at work.



June 4th 2008, 7:40 pm

I fell asleep before karaoke time. Go figure. Oh well. I clearly needed the sleep and I made Flatmate S promise to drag me next week.
I am ensconced in Panera for the evening, wallowing in the internet and air conditioning and lemonade. It is HOT. But work today was good. It started out a little earlier than usual, at 8:45, with an intern orientation meeting. I and several other interns met with our crazy company manager, IntenseLady, and went over the theater's mission statement and manifesto. Friday morning is part two, when we will talk about the theater's core values and housing cleanliness. Maybe I'll actually learn something at that one. I shouldn't say that, actually, because I did learn that I'm the youngest intern by two years. Even Intern T, who I had thought was only a year or so older than me, is 23. He's skinny and has a squeaky-ish voice, though, so that's okay. :)
After the meeting we joined Soon-to-be-not-Intern D and BossLady back in The Library and I started in on my work for the day, reading and reporting on a play (it was so-so) and photocopying four more (and foiling a gigantic paper jam which involved taking the photocopier apart with the help of Soon-to-be-not-Intern D) before heading outside to do parking duty. This involved donning a gigantic red shirt emblazoned with our theater's initials and the word "PARKING" on it. I felt like a landing strip. The old people were for the most part nice when I told them that they couldn't park in the lot I was guarding, but one woman insisted on pushing through even though I told her she was sure to be towed. And hour and a half after that, when I came back from lunch (I investigated Starbucks and the library and found both to be quite satisfactory) her car was still there, so maybe she was vindicated. Who knows.
Upon my return I read another play (it was pretty good, and I recommended it only to find that it was some sort of test and they had in fact put it on before. BossLady didn't tell me this, but I looked at the database and there was a little check mark next to "Produced."
Then I photocopied some more, learned how to turn VHS into DVD and DVD into mp3 pending working with a guy on Monday who is compiling songs for next year's Cabaret show (and who referred to me--in his reply to my e-mail informing him that I could indeed do the technical stuff he was asking of me--as "my Knightess in Shining Armor.") This was followed by more photocopying before the day was over and I retired to the apartment to cook pasta (which nearly drove me insane; I think I should stick with cooler meals from now on) and help Flatmate S search for Intern T's flatmate's cell phone number. Intern T, who lives beneath us, was locked out and it turned out all his compatriots were at Coldstone.
Then I drove here, eschewing a Panera more close by in order to clear my head a little. I'm really enjoying work, but socially I feel like I did at the beginning of the school year except this time there's no Roommate J to rescue me. I remember this feeling, though, and I remember what I did to assuage it last September and October: lots of The West Wing, tea, and Bergers cookies. I think I'll substitute ice water and carrots, but I think the recipe will still hold. :)

It feels so good to have a good night's sleep under my belt, to be back in the house, to have made oatmeal for myself for breakfast, to have turned up the heat temporarily to thaw out this freezing building (ssshhh; don't tell Dad), to be waiting on going off with BrandeisGirl to grab lunch and gossip, to see that Obama is getting closer and closer to having the delegates he needs, to have survived my first year of school and to know that it's the right place for me.

It doesn't feel so good to watch the House season finale, to tap my inner plumber to make the upstairs toilet flush, to read bad news about another Kennedy. Raised by a Dad who tears up whenever JFK's name is mentioned, it's hard to not find myself doing the same thing.

Also:
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU
HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAR SUBCONTINENT
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU!!!

Last night: dinner with roommates. Hilarity ensues. Returned to write for a while and then watch Ratatouille with Roommate J and The Guys.

Tonight: exam. Ew.

Tomorrow night: Hooooooome!

Other odds and ends: Freshman "I AM the Humanities" Seminar grades were posted and I am quite, quite, quite happy.
My suitcase is so full it may or may not explode.
I might very well forget my alarm clock in the morning rush to the airport.

Princeton, you have been very good to a poor freshman. Au revoir!

The Weekend of Food began yesterday night when MaleOrganist and walked, umbrellas held high and glasses steaming over, into the "ghetto" to a Mexican restaurant that MaleOrganist described to me once as "the kind of place you can never find unless you're not looking for it." Truer words were never spoken. We got lost in a muddle of row homes (Princeton style) and turned down a side street hoping to turn around and retrace our steps, but instead found the restaurant. It was great, and full of townies. There was one table of Princeton students, but they looked out of place, which was great.
We chatted and stopped in at Starbucks after walking back towards the land of the Rolex store and then we went our separate ways. He is house sitting some friends' apartment over the summer but is living in the apartment below theirs. Why? The three cats. And the giant marijuana bush hidden in the closet with a lamp trained on it. Ah, musicians.
Today was the great Dragging and Lunching Day, which went off without a hitch. Cousin J and Cousin B showed up eerily punctually on the stroke of eleven (military precision or waiting around the corner for twenty minutes? You decide) and CC and RussianRoommate helped to carry my things downstairs and out to their car. After that I took the cousins on one of my expanded and casual tours (practiced with HarvardGirl and BrandeisGirl) before heading to the Triumph Brewing Company for lunch. I ogled the Triumph Burger. Cousin B and Cousin J ogled the tap, and considered bringing back a growler of the good stuff for Uncle J, before discovering that it was not for sale due to the fact that is needed to be consumed an hour after being poured or it would go bad.
They then headed off to Philadelphia (again, exactly when they had planned on doing so) and I called Uncle Hoagie-Free-Zone to tell him they were on their way, bearing eight trash bags, six cardboard boxes, one paper bag, two plastic drawers, one box fan, and one bike. Not bad for nine months of my life.

P.S. CC and Roommate J came through on bedding! CC lent me her spare sheets and I borrowed one of Roommate J's unused blankets (she was off EMTing and we only need blankets for fifteen minutes a night these days anyway).

I am TOTALLY PACKED. Well, the stuff that's going away tomorrow, that is. Victory!
Tonight:
-More studying
-Dinner with MaleOrganist
-NOT reading Babycakes *sob!* At least they have it waiting for me in Midwestern Town Library, as it is not (mysteriously) here anywhere.
-Falling asleep on my bed, completely devoid of bedding.

Oh my goodness! Prince Caspian is in theaters? Where have I been?
The answer, of course, is the Orange Bubble. But still.
This is clearly a mother-daughter movie for when we're both home. Clearly. Narnia belongs to mom.

My interview went really, really well, I thought. Sort of like my audition tour, in fact. We'll see if I get the job, but if I don't I can console myself with the fact that it was probably because I'm a rising sophomore, and not because of anything I did wrong.
Then I got a phone call from my gallivanting parents, letting me know that they are well, have bought a rug, and have been eating mint Ritter Sport chocolates every night. For some mysterious reason, every flavor but the mint is available in the US. I'm thinking some un-importable ingredient? I should research this. Anyway, the mint ones are delicious and I requested enough packs to eat while watching the entire second season of The Wire when they return.
I also made even more headway with packing. I would even dare to say that I am, for Saturday cousin purposes, packed (minus bedding, obviously, and my bathrobe--towels are packed already--which I will be washing and packing hastily Saturday morning before their arrival.
To cap it all off and make a great day even better:
"...if we have learned anything from the significant evolution in the prevailing societal views and official policies toward members of minority races and toward women over the past half-century, it is that even the most familiar and generally accepted of social practices and traditions often mask an unfairness and inequality that frequently is not recognized or appreciated by those not directly harmed by those practices or traditions."--Chief Justice Ronald George
"WOOOOT!", I said to a friend of mine who had been following the decision closely.
"Agreed, dear," he said, "agreed."

This piece of news is hardly a surprise, but is still pretty darn awesome, in my book.
Today was spent studying in the morning and early afternoon, at which point I threw in the towel, read fifty pages of Further Tales of the City, went and picked up my new tour guide hoodie, ate dinner with Roommate J and gossiped, and went on a packing rampage that lasted until now, at which point I turned on the computer and discovered that John Edwards had hopped on the coolest bandwagon in town.
Plans for this evening:
-Shower (I'm covered in dust bunnies from rooting around under my bed for boxes and Nom de Plume paraphernalia)
-More Further Tales of the City
-Perhaps some studying, although I do best when it's light out, for some as yet unknown reason.
-The West Wing? Prime Suspect? Daniel Deronda?
-Panicking about my job interview tomorrow. Aaaah!

Intriguing. And awesome. And sort of troubling too.
My Religion Quiz results:


1. Mainline to Liberal Christian Protestants (100%)
2. Orthodox Quaker (93%)
3. Liberal Quakers (86%)
4. Unitarian Universalism (77%)
5. Reform Judaism (72%)
6. Mainline to Conservative Christian/Protestant (69%)
7. Seventh Day Adventist (66%)
8. Eastern Orthodox (63%)
9. Roman Catholic (63%)
10. Neo-Pagan (58%)
11. Bahá'í Faith (57%)
12. Orthodox Judaism (56%)
13. New Age (53%)
14. Secular Humanism (52%)
15. Mahayana Buddhism (52%)
16. Islam (51%)
17. Theravada Buddhism (51%)
18. Sikhism (50%)
19. Taoism (40%)
20. Hinduism (39%)
21. Jainism (39%)
22. Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints (Mormons) (38%)
23. Scientology (36%)
24. Christian Science (Church of Christ, Scientist) (33%)
25. New Thought (33%)
26. Nontheist (30%)
27. Jehovah's Witness (29%)