well clearly all of a sudden this site has fucked itself up. any clue as to why? anyone? i didn’t change the code … double bonus points for an answer. it doesn’t necessarily even have to be a good one. you may have to email it to me at ESTER [at] SCCS [dot] SWARTHMORE [dot] EDU cuz [sigh] comments seem to be among the things affected by this fuck up. [sigh.]

liz has started to put her sheep comix up on a page.

i’m near giddy, having successfully steered my First principals only Rehearsal. lovingly brigid brought me diet coke and lovingly i’m drinking it, listening to billy bragg. in a bit i’m going to dinner w/ her parents, and then we’re all going to see About a Boy on campus. nice, low-key things that will hopefully prevent me from emotional roller coasting down into low. another rehearsal tomorrow, then big como gathering sunday — my god, i have to figure out WHEN during the week i will do WORK.

damn and drat it. i woke up early to go meet a fella from my poetry class with whom i share a goal: to write a screenplay as an honors thesis project. this goal has been approved by everyone to whom i sold it except, most recently, the head of the film department who has returned from time off looking fresh and slim and young — which is to say, she bears no signs of having either (a) just had a baby [which she did] or (b) to care for said infant. rumors abound that the infant’s father is none other than the lauded director/screenwriter todd “far from a safe velvet heaven” haynes, with whom she is friends, but that’s neither here nor there.

here nor there: as she doesn’t know me and has never seen my work, she’s doubtful that i can produce a screenplay that’s honors worthy. she’s worried that there’s no one on campus qualified to judge or advise. &c. it is up to me to convince her. this, my friends, is a frightening prospect. on the other hand i don’t have to face it alone. this fella emailed me — he has a similar idea, he met with similar skepticism and wariness on the professor’s part. so we met this morning to hash out a plan of action. mostly instead we talked about movies (magical realism!; two towers eh; he also considers adaptation the best film of the year and brilliant beyond that) but it still felt good, like we were creating a united front. always helps to have a compatriot.

— oh but the bad part: i had to leave the conversation unfinished b/c i had an appointment. except it turned out there’d been a miscommunication (grr). instead i am rescheduled for 9:30 in the (damn and drat it) morning. at least i got up early, tho i am now swiftly happily squandering the day …

yesterday evening my entire cast assembled for the very first +2 hrs read through. i nearly started hyperventilating. my cast is so cool. SO COOL. i don’t just think that cuz i chose them. they’re witty and relaxed, they seem to have good chemistry ALREADY, even the freshfolks. they laughed at my jokes, not to mention at the play (if they hadn’t i would have called it off right then. what’s the point of working w/ actors on a farce if they don’t get the humor? but they do, they do, the little darlings). i think i managed to keep a strong, consistent Director thing going too. wouldn’t it be awesome if they liked and respected me, and i liked and respected them, and the play ended up being entertaining? i mean … *dreamy sigh* wow.

coming home post- the meeting of my very first seminar, during which my best actively listening facial muscles — since i sure as hell wasn’t about to open my mouth — (what could i contribute to a theoryhead conversation, even one about reading i did? the seven other people around that table, mostly senior history honors majors, *knew* the difference between post-modernism and positivism and can intelligently argue about the merits of both. i miss the days of “vocab boxes” in the bottom corners of worksheets. in hebrew classes it was even better: the term was “otzar milim”, lit., the treasure of words. who could call structuralism a treasure and keep a straight face?) — i tried not to become too depressed at the prospect of spending a semester in this fashion and i blasted indigo girls. there simply was not an alternative.

but this evening, after conversations w/ two out-of-swat friends cheered me and i did some laundry and sundry, the only appropriate music to blast was tori amos. don’t you love that song about wanting to kill the waitress? i think it’s classic. as i’m unfortunate enough to be a junior residing on a hall teeming with freshmen, i feel that rendering services such as these impromptu lessons in musical apprecation are the best i can do. and sundry. i love that as an end to sentences.

so, after 10 hours of auditions split over 2 days, during which time i tried to project Competent but Upbeat, Authoritative but not Dictatorial (rebecca summarized this behavior as “punchy”), and sarah my helpmeet ran back and forth from room to phone and led vocal exercises and deliberated with me, we have a Cast. 12 actors. 6 m/ 6 f. a helluva lot of freshfolk, which is fun if you think about it. these are the people who will be steering the theater department in several years, someday possibly the world; i get them Now.

the experience took its toll. as much as i love auditioning, deciding between two people (or 5) who in their own ways could be excellent as a part is exhausting. every possible visible element came into play ultimately: actions during the opening exercises, attitude, time committments, friendliness, a look, a vibe. i want to hug several folks who didn’t make it and explain to them how good they are and how hard the choosing can be. but no matter how sincerely that’s meant, it can feel condescending and hard to believe. i figger i’ll just stay back and talk to people if they approach me.

scripts arrived today! read-through #1 tomorrow! oh it’s all so exciting. i’m even managing to get work done despite/around this craziness. well, a little.

i. have been published. in the washington post. this goes a long way towards redeeming the paper. or maybe it doesn’t, but for good or for evil i will be more fond of it now.

my little brother has never, to my knowledge, called anything racist. when he switched last year to a dc public skool, most of my family braced to see how he’d manage: surely the transition from a jewish skool — even accounting for a stopover in a only-mostly-white private skool — would be tough. but he adapted immediately. wilson suits him far better than either of the other two. he’s got a group of friends so diverse my most pc friends would envy him, and effortlessly, because as far as i know, he doesn’t think about race. without disregarding differences, he seems to render them unimportant. as ideally they would be across a chess board, or while watching anime.

that’s why when he IMed me this evening and referred to a post columnist as a “racist bastard” he knocked me off-balance. but he certainly wasn’t overstating. even (especially?) for a mainstream publication, this is egregious. how could they publish an opinion piece, “They Should Behave Better” this rambling, racist, and badly thought out?

first paragraph: Sometimes, watching students coming and going from Coolidge High School, I wonder if Americans would have supported the goals of the civil rights movement if they’d known these children would be among its inheritors.

last paragraph: I can think of no more compelling reason to insist that the kids from Coolidge — and black kids everywhere — adhere to certain standards of behavior.

in between: myriad reasons this author should be thrown through a plate glass window. and further evidence that my family knows better than the media.

everything i’m not. although this almost puts it in perspective. switch back and forth fast between the two pictures for best comic effect.

20 people have signed up now. quite exciting. even more so perhaps i went to my first definite class of the week: my poetry workshop. better than i expected. that is, of course, the unremitting joy of being a fatalist: your experiences, even if they are only mixed, can’t fail to please you.

poor ben meanwhile is down for the count. his website, boldrobot, has mysteriously fallen ill in that way of mysterious internet things. hopefully in the next couple of weeks the fellow in charge will return from france and restore to ben his compiled two-years worth of memories. in the meantime those of you desperate for a benfix can visit his lj.

to distract him and you, i profer fame tracker, a brilliant site mentioned in this latest installment of Bitch. my favorite section so far is the galaxies of fame. read the golden globe one — the bit about lara flynn boyle brought tears to my eyes. in the best possible way.

not to be a rabble rouser, but i just came across this article from academia.org and thought it was hilarious. this ufo sighting may or may not be funnier, especially when you take into account that a “bra fence” exists at all {via malpractice}

this has been the strangest week. one class i may not be able to get into but i’m hoping; one class too full i bowed out of; one class canceled. that leaves me sitting on my hands at 2 in the afternoon. not entirely of course. with a play in the works, there’s always something to do. 6 people have already signed up to audition (this weekend, the 25th and 26th, 1 – 4 in kohlberg 116) and we haven’t even put up posters! actually i should probably go do that. or — does anyone want to watch a movie?

no, shit, i know what i have to do. i have to pick an introductory poem to bring to my workshop to read out loud tomorrow. that’s a real challenge.