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!