I will press send. I will press send. I will press send.

It is so exciting for me to be able to write to you at this, the most thrilling time in my life. There is so much that I want to tell you about how much I love theatre and how much it has completely altered my life. Theatre is in a tough place right now: I see a lot of bad plays, and I often ask why they are being done at all. I can't say why other people love the theatre, but I know why I love the theatre. There is something electric that passes between live actor and live audience. I love that pregnancy: something unknown that has never existed before that moment and probably never will again.
Yeah, so...
I got my old prof Leslie to write me a recommendation to UC Davis. You may or may not know that she used to teach there. Chuuurch. (I stole that.)
I used to hate Leslie... my, how I've grown.

Whitney Houston makes me want to be a Christian... for like 5 seconds. I suppose hope is not lost, for all of you who are praying for my redemption... give me some gospel, and I may convert.

PLUS, the National Board of Review officially kicks off Oscar season tomorrow. I am so fucking thrilled. Seriously, I thought about it for a moment at work today and I just smiled.

Back to business:
Large alterations have been made to the statement of purpose, including a whole (much more upbeat) beginning section. I think I am happy with this version. At least, I feel like I sound more ummm happy about the prospect of going to school. Thanks everyone Allan and Tito, for your input on the letter. Any fresh comments would be appreciated.
*
When I started out in university, I chose to study accounting. It was the path of least resistance for me as someone who was always good at math and used to thinking about things logically and in terms of set, defined parameters. When I took my first theatre class, I told myself that I didn't know anything at all. I decided I would go into the studio and begin everything from scratch. I had no idea how much the choice would affect my life, how all-consuming a force theatre would become for me, but I very clearly remember the day I made the decision to alter my field of study. The change of major form at my university asked us the reason for our switch. My response was that theatre was difficult. It was something that I had to work hard to do. As a person who was used to puzzles and numbers, my body and my voice were things I was not in the habit of using. I welcomed the challenge. My training in theatre since then has always been that the unknown is the place in which I should live. I must have soaked up the essence of this very early on, because something enabled me to jump into this uncharted world of art and performance and never look back.
My first theatre teacher was a professor of voice. I have always considered myself extremely fortunate to have first worked with someone whose approach to theatre was as organic as hers. Working with her, the goal was always to speak the truth at any given moment: to always be honest in everything. The story, and theatre is storytelling, was always primary, and honest communication was the best way to tell the story. I continued studying voice for the rest of my time at university, and also attended Canada's National Voice Intensive in 2002. While still at university, I was given the opportunity to direct two full-length shows. I also started teaching my own voice classes while attending school. Directing shows and teaching classes changed something inside of me. Teaching became something I wanted to do; something at which I excelled. There is something about assisting others toward their potential that makes me feel like I belong: it makes me positive that teaching is what I want to be doing the rest of my life. I still direct shows and coach voice and dialect at Cal State Pomona, and I love doing it, but it isn't enough. I want to do more.
I cannot wait to begin my graduate study. For so many people that I talk to, graduate study is simply a means to an end. But for me the means is just as important as the end. I want these next five years in graduate school to change me as much as the last five years of my life have changed me. I am confident that graduate school will do just that. Graduate school is a path into the unknown, and the unknown is where I want to live. I want to be molded and changed. I have strong ideas about theatre, performance and the arts, and I want to be in an environment where these ideas can be challenged and considered. Most importantly, I want to surround myself with other theatre students and scholars with whom I can discuss ideas, test theories, and from whom I can learn. I want to teach on the university level: to have an impact on young actors, directors, and other students of theatre. But most importantly, I feel that my education in theatre must continue and I know that I cannot do that on my own. Studying on the graduate level is something I have been thinking about for a very long time. It is what comes next in my path as an artist: no longer the path of least resistance. I am so excited about the future of this art form and the new heights we can reach with it. This is the subsequent logical step in my growth as a theatre teacher, an artist in my community, and a student of life.

Grief

My foolishness occasionally knows no bounds... or perhaps it was the glass of Riesling I had before heading down to the homeowner's association meeting. Suffice it to say that I am now the Treasurer of the Allen Avenue Square South Condominium Community. The more my grief. I regretted it the moment I said I would do it.

But there were only 3 board members left and they needed five. Even with me there aren't as many as there ought to be. And they promised to make the meetings quarterly. Plus I'll be doing the accounting... it's not like I'll need a lot of training, right? And our property manager does almost all of the work, right? PLUS there are the other three people on the board. It's not like I'll be down fixing Mrs. Whitehead's sink in the middle of the day on Saturday, right?

Oh. My. God.

I got invited by a straight friend to go kick it down at Hooters but I decided to pass. I'm going to go to bed and get up and nourish my soul with some yoga.

I have been trying to find an I Heart Malfoy shirt all over the internet to no avail. Boo.

I am currently listening to Rufus Wainwright's new album Want Two. Some of the lyrics are awesome, but I have to say I really like the whole album. It took me a while to warm up to Want One, but I love Want Two. I love this song "Gay Messiah," and I don't think I ever understood it before, but on this album it makes so much sense. It's like a warning to Rick Santorum and Pat Robertson: Better pray for your sins / 'Cause the gay messiah's coming. And there is this wonderful grief-stricken song called "This Love Affair": Can't say that I'm cruising / Not that I don't like cruising / It's just that I'm bruising / From you. It's really quite lovely.

Ho! Ho! Ho! and a Bottle of Rum

It was a high school reunion down at the Montclair Plaza tonight when I ran into one of the people in my high school clique. Of the maybe ten people in my group of high school friends, I now only talk to five of them and one of those is my little brother. But tonight, Jai and I ran into our old friend A.S. Now everyone knows that A.S. is a mo, but he has been denying it since I've known him. But I'll be damned if Jai and I did not run into him on a date with a guy.

Now normally I would just let him pass on by and not say anything, but seeing he was with a guy, I ran after that motherfucker and made him stop and talk and I hugged him and introduced myself to his date: the works. It went quite brilliantly actually, and Jai and I were both very happy to see him and to see that he's at least coming to terms with his issues.

I know, I know: I'm a drama queen... but this was a big deal. This is such a big step for him and he was such an old friend. I mean, I basically stopped talking to him because I couldn't stand for him to talk about the women he wanted to sleep with. I prefer for my close relationships to have a little more truth in them.

We small-talked and said the usual "we should hang out" "definitely" thing, but I have his number now and we are definitely hanging out. I need more gay friends, and gay friends left over from high school are just a bonus.

Oh My God, I Finished It

Any feedback would be most welcome:

When I started out in university, I chose to study accounting. It was the path of least resistance for me as someone who was always good at math and used to thinking about things logically and in terms of set, defined parameters. I cannot remember why I decided to attempt to study theatre, but I very clearly remember the day I made the decision. The change of major form at my university asked us the reason for our switch. My response was that theatre was difficult. It was something that I had to work hard to do. As a person who was used to puzzles and numbers, my body and my voice were things I was not in the habit of using. I welcomed the challenge. My training in theatre since then has always been that the unknown is the place in which I should live. I must have soaked up the essence of this very early on, because something enabled me to jump into this uncharted world of art and performance and never look back.
My first theatre teacher was a professor of voice. I have always considered myself extremely fortunate to have first worked with someone whose approach to theatre was as organic as hers. Working with her, the goal was always to speak the truth at any given moment: to always be honest in everything. The story, and theatre is storytelling, was always primary, and honest communication was the best way to tell the story. I continued studying voice for the rest of my time at university, and also attended Canada's National Voice Intensive in 2002. While still at university, I was given the opportunity to direct two full-length shows. I also started teaching my own voice classes while attending school. Directing shows and teaching classes changed something inside of me. Teaching became something I wanted to do; something at which I excelled. There is something about assisting others toward their potential that makes me feel like I belong: it makes me positive that teaching is what I want to be doing the rest of my life. I still direct shows and coach voice and dialect at Cal State Pomona, and I love doing it, but it isn't enough. I want to do more.
Graduate study is a means to an end for me. But the means is just as important as the end. I want these next five years in graduate school to change me as much as the last five years of my life have changed me. I am confident that graduate school will do just that. Graduate school is a path into the unknown, and the unknown is where I want to live. I want to be molded and changed. I have strong ideas about theatre, performance and the arts, and I want to be in an environment where these ideas can be challenged and studied. Most importantly, I want to surround myself with other theatre students and scholars with whom I can discuss ideas, test theories, and from whom I can learn.
I want to teach on the university level: to have an impact on young actors, directors, and other students of theatre. But most importantly, I feel that my education in theatre must continue and I know that I cannot do that on my own. Studying on the graduate level is something I have been thinking about for a very long time. It is what comes next in my path as an artist-no longer the path of least resistance. This is the subsequent logical step in my growth as a theatre teacher, an artist in my community, and a student of life.

The Day after the Fall of <i>Alexander</i>

Left to see:

The Aviator,
La Mala Educación,
Closer,
Un Long Dimanche de Fiançailles,
The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou,
El Mar Adentro,
The Phantom of the Opera,
Spanglish,
A Series of Unfortunate Events,
The Polar Express,
Hotel Rwanda,
Million Dollar Baby,
A Love Song for Bobby Long,
House of Flying Daggers

Gosh, that's a short list. Hopefully a few more emerge before the end of the year.

At All Costs, Avoid Alexander

And all of us said, "It's gotta be better than the trailer, right?" Wrong.
If you haven't seen Alexander yet, be wise, take my advice and stay away. Far away. As far away as you can. This movie is terrible.

I wanted so badly to like it. I knew Manohla Dargis had hated it. I thought, "Perhaps Manohla merely holds Oliver Stone to higher standards." No. Manohla was so, so right.

What an unholy, ungodly, awful, ridiculous mess of a film! I sat there wanting to cry or throw up or scream. It was so frustrating to watch. It had such promise. It looks so beautiful. The production is lavish and rich. The battle scenes are expertly filmed. The film stays true to the hero's homosexual affairs. But goddamit if there is not one scene with merit. No, I am unkind. There is a single, five or six minute battle sequence with Darius, the emperor of Persia about forty minutes into the film that is good. The rest is not just "okay," it is terrible. The inane dialogue and incomprehensible political discussions are not the film's main problems, either. The problems are the scenes: almost every one of them. Not one of them (save aforementioned six-minute battle sequence) serves any purpose at all. I kept wondering why I was watching what I was watching. I mean, why did he keep showing me such nonsense? If he was going to pick and choose which of the scenes of Alexander's life he was going to show us, why did he pick the ones he did? I don't think this will ever make sense to me.

The only character in this film who was nicely crafted was Angelina Jolie's Olympias, and I would say she was the best part of the film were it not that she had the most ridiculous Russian/Transylvanian accent. Jared Leto's Hephaistion is terribly written, though Leto seems to pull off something with the role. I did believe he loved Alexander, though I couldn't figure why. Poor Colin Farrell needs some voice work like nobody's business. I just don't know what he's doing in this movie. He tries yelling and crying and other things but nothing seems to come across the screen and hit me. Maybe he needs to do a play or something: play a supporting character in some low budget flick. I don't know.

Oh, and if you think you're going to see any nudity, think again. There is a very nice view of Rosario Dawson's breasts (and they are magnificent, I promise you), but that is it. Colin Farrell barely takes his shirt off that I can remember, and other skin is noticeably absent. There is a very dark shot of his ass, but let me tell you, three hours of suffering is not worth it.

Wahima said it best as we left the theater: Troy was more interesting. No shit.

Sorry I've Been Away

Kinsey is an above average biopic with some fairly good performances. It will probably end up getting it's share of awards and nominations once the National Board of Review kicks off awards season within the next week. My favorite is Peter Sarsgaard. His performances in Kinsey and Garden State this year hopefully mean he'll get some attention. He's also completely naked in the film. Cheers. Kinsey itself is only an okay film, though. I think it lacks something in the direction. It just seems to throw facts at us. There doesn't seem to be much of an actual plot, and there are very few "money" scenes, if any at all. There is a lot of discussion of sex, and most of it is quite frank, unfortunately, I thought very little of it was compelling. The last scene in the film is wonderful, but I think it's really the only great thing in Kinsey.

I really liked Finding Neverland, but I didn't love it to death or anything. I certainly don't think I liked it as much as I liked last year's Peter Pan adaptation. That little boy who plays Peter is quite remarkable, and I quite liked Johnny Depp, Kate Winslet, Julie Christie, Dustin Hoffman, and even Radha Mitchell (okay, the whole cast), but it's really just a little melodrama. It has its magical moments, but, I don't know, I guess the film just didn't blow me away to any huge extent. I certainly cried (we all expected that) but not nearly as much as I expected to. I think it's because Marc Forster introduces us to the magic way to early. I can't think of how else to do it, but the magic should have been something that he earned. In other words, he didn't make me believe, he just assumed I already believed.

Thanksgiving went okay, I suppose. I made macaroni and cheese; sausage, spinach and mushroom dressing; and whole cranberry relish. My mom made the turkey and the mashed potatoes and there was broccoli salad with cranberries and almonds and someone must've heated up some corn, but I stayed away from that starchy nonsense. The family was aiight. We had a few games; talked a little... I dunno. It was unremarkable, I guess.

But today I shopped. I went to Express where they were giving away scarves with any purchase. I bought two shirts and got a scarf for free. Cheers. Then I went to Expo Design Center. They are waaaay understaffed at this store, I have to say. It was impossible to find help. I bought a chandelier, though, and it looks beautiful. PLUS it was really cheap as chandeliers go. Then I went home and installed that shit.
Yes, I know how to install electrical fixtures. I was quite proud of myself, actually.

Christmas shopping? What's that about? I shop for myself.

Read Daily

Whoever doesn't read FugWorld every day is missing out. This is the funniest fucking weblog on the planet.

Poor Eve

This evening I saw Being Julia. Granted, it has an awful title, but this movie is fucking funny. Annette Bening will almost certainly be nominated for Best Actress come January, and she might win if the wind blows her way. Her performance in this film is masterful: an amazing work of fiction.

The movie itself has a few problems: it loses track midway and goes off on a few tangents it doesn't need, but it all comes together in the end. This is an understatement. The climactic scene in Act III is absolutely brilliant. It is a scene of comedic genius, fantastic storytelling and hilariously fine work by Miss Bening. This scene pays off so well that I don't think I could possibly oversell it. I doubt it would have been better if it had been penned by Mr. Wilde himself. It's hilarious.

This film is most effective for theatre people, I think, and gay men in particular. If you are a diva, this is your film. It celebrates divahood unabashedly. Being Julia is All About Eve if Bette Davis had been able to stick it to Anne Baxter and twist the knife, and this is finally what pays off about the film. I don't want to ruin it, so I won't say more, but I thought this film succeeded wonderfully.

Food

Just thought I'd add: for dinner tonight I spiced up my tunafish salad on wheat toast with a little fresh tomato and goat cheese. It rocked.

Cinema

I think I will skip the Academy Screening of The Greatest Story Ever Told and hit a showing of Being Julia, or if Elizabeth is free, Kinsey.

Next week La Mala Educación and Alexander!

Terrorism Is Afoot

I always assumed in addition to my friends and the people I have invited to read my weblog, that it would be read by people who were not made aware of its existence by me. It's fine. If you'd like to read, you certainly may. I welcome it, in fact... and feel free to comment if you get the urge. I'd love to hear from you. I make no secret of this weblog. But if you are going to use this weblog to sabotage the work and relationships of others, I advise you not to. It's just not nice.

And now for news of the weekend...

On Friday, I left work and booked it to Hacienda Heights to see my friend Scott in The Diary of Anne Frank at Los Altos High School. Los Altos is doing something right. I don't mean that the show was brilliant or anything: it was far from it, but this place was packed. I have never seen so many people at a high school theatre performance. It was quite something. I was literally the last person to purchase a ticket. How is it that a depressing high school show about Jewish internment can have a bigger audience than a hilarious comedy at a university with really cool special effects. What is Los Altos doing right that the publicist at CSUP is doing wrong? I ask you.

Scott played Mr. Frank. He was excellent as usual. I really hope this young man studies acting somewhere when he goes to university. He has so much potential. I don't particular care for Anne Frank, but Scott's performance had me actively holding back the tears. I have to say, though: weird choice for a high school play.

On Saturday, I watched Empire of the Sun, which might be my favorite of all of Spielberg's movies. I know that I have trashed Spielberg repeatedly in this space and elsewhere, and I still think that he deserves a lot of the bile I chuck his way, but Jaws and now Empire of the Sun, make me really appreciate ol' Steven. I still dislike A.I. and E.T. and The motherfucking Terminal, but Empire of the Sun is beautiful: surreal and dreamlike, but hugely emotionally affecting with an interesting political core. A good portion of the film is a redux of James Clavell's King Rat, but damn the script (by the superb Tom Stoppard) is good.

After Empire, I met Wahima in La Verne and we saw The Incredibles, which has charm for days and is unbelievably clever. Everyone has seen this movie and everyone loves it, so I won't say anything more than I loved it too and I think it is a lock for the Animated Feature Oscar and will probably get an original screenplay nomination, too. Machine washable, darling: that's a new feature.

I visited my parents after the Brad Bird flick and we finalized the Christmas letter. My family cracks me the fuck up, I swear. Michael and Debs went on and on about how dad ought to take out his Chinese furniture store joke. They think it's too much of a non sequitor. Aside from the finer points of comedy in the Christmas letter, we discussed national politics, other Christmas logistics, and the huge fight during the NBA game on Friday night. My dad suggests that President Bush send Colin Powell and Jimmy Carter as his envoys to create lasting peace between Palestine and Israel. This sounds like a great plan to me, but we all know it won't be happening.

Then I went to see The Foreigner. It's a lot better. Chris seems worse, but that is to be expected, I suppose. The audience liked him well enough, I guess. Tori has sped up a lot and her performance is much funnier because of it. The one joke I put in the show got a huge laugh, so I felt good about that. The show is much the same as it was when I first reported on its progress in this space about two weeks ago. It has the same strengths and weaknesses I thought it had then. I still think Jensen is the strongest voice in the show. Matt Guerra is still wonderful. And I still think Brittney, Tori, and Rick are giving good—if unremarkable—performances. The dialects are much stronger, and I only detected a few errors: almost all of them Gelvin's.

Busy day, Saturday. After the show Linda drove me out to her new house in Cathedral City (Palm Desert). It's lovely: more lovely than you can imagine from my words. The best description I can give is that it looks like a picture out of the Pottery Barn catalog. It's truly beautiful. At any rate, Tori, Brittney, Catherine, Peter, Matt, Linda and I drank wine and sat in the hot tub late into the night. I drank (in this order) Shiraz, more Shiraz, Zinfandel, and Merlot (I was plastered by this point and just didn't care.)

Today I woke up, showered, had coffee and some eggs and after sending the girls and Peter off to their matinée of The Foreigner, Linda, Matt, their cats and I headed calmly back toward Los Angeles County. We stopped for coffee near the outlet malls on I-10, and I made a quick excursion into the Club Monaco Outlet where I purchased both a hat and a hoodie for under $25. I will be returning to the outlet mall when I have more time. They had $20 jeans there. It's like shopping in Canada! On our way through Riverside County (Banning and such) there must have been 3-5 inches of snow on the ground. No joke: snow—lots of it—on the ground in California. There was snow on the goddamn palm trees. I have never in my life seen anything like it. It was so cool. And then the snow just stopped around the San Bernardino County line: it was so weird.

Today I finished last week's Sunday Crossword (this is 2 weeks in a row, people!), made the grocery list for Thanksgiving, randomly cleaned, paid some bills and finally watched John Singleton's Boyz N the Hood, which, if I may say, is no Do the Right Thing. Nevertheless when Tre hands Furious the gun and Furious holds his son, I started to cry: a lot. This really moved me. I guess it just hit me how much this boy had lost and how much he needed his father to hold him in that moment. The hug also held all of Furious's hopes for his son. With that hug he declared victory on the Hood.
But... except for the hug and a couple of other nice moments (that Morris Chestnut is a looker, ain't he?), I thought the film was really preachy: maybe even extremely preachy.

Why am I not finishing my apps to Berkeley and Davis? Is it because I think I won't get in, or is it because I think I don't need to try that hard? Whatever it is, it is procrastination. I just can't get up the energy to go and finish all of this application stuff. I feel so... inadequate.

Just so you know, I have busted out my Xmas music. Feel free to do the same. And if you happen to burst into Burl Ives' "Have a Holly Jolly Christmas," while standing in line at the grocery or the coffeehouse, just ignore the bewildered stares of others. It's the fucking holidays. Bring cheer to the lives of others! Cheers.

X-MAS

My dad sent me the first draft of his annual Christmas letter.

The big news of the year is Camp La Verne moved. After about seven years at Baseline 91750, we determined it was time to downsize. Since Aaron and Mike have both left the nest, it was time to eliminate the vast caverns of empty rooms. So in a matter of days, we bought the Hanawalt Villa. It is located at 2740 Hanawalt Street, La Verne in case the Christmas card you sent us came back already. The house has fewer rooms, but the floor plan has space for a business office for Chris & Kim and a creative office for Deborah adjacent or included in her bedroom, depending on the use of the retractable divider. So Aaron took the couch, Mike got some useless stuff out of the attic, and the rest went to the thrift store or is in a small storage unit. Downsizing can be exhausting. All the vital paraphernalia we did manage to squeeze in somehow. Everyone needs to keep their 3-foot singing snowman for the holidays! So we are back in business, better than ever, at Hanawalt, snowman and all.

KIM is moving with the speed of a tornado on multiple fronts. Her guidance counseling has received rave reviews from parents, students, and board members at the school. With no Vice Principal, she was able to contribute ideas to student scheduling and class accreditation. She also helped organize graduation and the Academic Awards Night. This was the most well attended awards ceremony in anyone's memory. Over 500 awards were given out, in a lovely semi-formal atmosphere. One parent was brought to tears by the invitations alone. Keeping track of the Hanawalt cash flow, paperwork and schedules at home is also on the agenda. Even with all this on the plate, she still manages to support others and her sons from afar, who seem to manage to coerce her into a free haircut whenever needed.
AARON is ecstatic about starting a new job. After working for one accounting firm since the summer of '95, he left the minimum wage treatment for Avjet. This is an executive jet leasing firm, so we are hoping that a few years there and he will accrue "family flight hours". Although he misses his comrade in arms for many years, Nancy, he enjoys both the new challenge and the time and a half pay for overtime. He has continued directing, putting together a summer version of Taming of the Shrew. Set at the beach, the bikini-clad actors made for a fun evening at Cal State Long Beach. Aaron also had a terrific interview for the Master's program at UCLA that lead him to the decision to apply for a Doctorate Program. Hence, he expended time studying for the GRE with fine results, and is selecting school possibilities. He also took the election season to heart and determined to be a cabinet member of his condominium association. Voting on what type of landscaping for the building is important for long range financial responsibility. He seems to thoroughly enjoy his location in Pasadena, but occasionally regrets the length of drive to his base of directing operations at Cal-Poly. He had a successful fall program, a mad-cap comedy about a salesman making a trip to Valparaiso, Indiana who is diverted to Valparaiso, Florida and then Valparaiso, South America. The salesman begins the talk-show circuit, which has a tragic end on a Jerry Springer-like revelation show. Aaron also worked as dialect coach for Cal-Poly on their winter production. This is all progress toward a full-time life in academia. Cheers.
MICHAEL continues to expand the universe of property ownership, attempting to earn the moniker of Trump Jr. He has purchased property in Alabama, Texas and Ohio. He keeps vacillating between owning ½ of greater Dallas-Fortworth and owning a property in all 50 states. Either goal is admirable even if only partially fulfilled. He continues to use his sales savvy in California real estate, as he urges others to invest in the high-flying market. "Remember I don't just sell houses, I turn your dreams into reality!" As his portfolio expands he has managed to tighten the deficit spending on other items, limiting his purchases to a small plasma T.V. and furniture for the house. He had to make some home improvements since he did not change houses, yet. He is happy Aaron is working for Avjet so that some one will keep a close eye on his Lear Jet, once he has enough money to buy one. He has two roommates, recruited by Deborah, so that at least now there is decent food in the house. He has cut most other activities, except for the gym… the slacker.
DEBORAH has switched schools and is now enrolled at Mt. Sierra College. She is entered into the bachelor's degree program, majoring in multi-media design. This was a big change from Cal-Poly, but the fast pace and intensity of the work is much more to her liking. This was evidenced by her promptly making the Dean's Honor Roll. Pretty good for someone who has never had an art class. She sometimes struggles with the raw drawing, but the computer generated skills required give her an advantage. She put this to good use pulling together some creative power-point presentations that were used at the Academic Awards… "You're welcome, Mom." She has improved at appearing interested when her dad goes off on his political tangents. She has learned to nod and smile with an occasional, "That totally makes sense," as she exits the room. She did a fabulous job selecting the flowers for the landscaping, choosing the patio tile and furniture and assembling cabinets and installing a ceiling fan. She also overruled Rick the painter in selecting the paint for the house and it resulted in an awesome combination. So the eye-for-design is already paying home dividends. Next is the bathroom, faux gray with sponge paint where?
CHRIS was blind-sided by work, and assumed the role of Chief Compliance Officer. Since this is a mandatory position, under the scrutiny of the federal regulators, he either does the job right or joins Martha Stewart in a low security penitentiary for securities violations. If you see the Thomas name on the cover of the Wall Street Journal it could be a bad sign, and you may receive a request to bake a cake with a file in it. (Pineapple upside down is one of my favorites.) So with that occupying most of his mental energy he has not devoted as much time to educational or writing pursuits. He still continues to research the wisdom of Proverbs in an attempt to convert it to a Christian business manuscript. Time will tell. Retirement is in the dream-reality phase and seems possible each time Mike looks at a property, Aaron directs a potential Broadway play, or Deborah designs the next Swoosh…I am an optimist! Still the pot of gold remains at the end of the daily rainbow that leads him to his Sweetheart. Oh, Hart to Hart is on again!
Meet the Miniatures: Hannah and Mia Streeter are two adorable girls that Deborah baby-sits while Sheila (their Mom) is working. The Streeter family was the previous Hanawalt residents, Mike's clients, and Sheila works for the Thomas's financial advisor…are you confused by all the connections? The "miniatures" is the title our 8 year old niece, Emily, gave them when she could not remember their names. We still refer to them collectively that way. Hannah is already 4, feisty and with blonde hair she is reminiscent of a certain feisty 19 year old princess. With Deborah as her mentor, who needs cloning? Mia is the "terrible two" who has such a cute grin it is hard to scold her. Mr. Chris seems to enjoy tossing them into the air or swiffering the floor with them, but I think his favorite thing is building the Hannahpire State Building out of Legos. Sheila must be wondering what she got herself into. "Spinning in the computer chair like the Disneyland Teacups is only allowed at Hanawalt."

Originally, we thought that we would stay in the house for two years (not that taxes had anything to do with it) and move for profit again. But after only 6 months, we are starting to feel very comfortable and may stay for good. Since we only bounced about 2 miles, we still kept access to all of our old stomping grounds and just gained access to some new ones. That's strange, I never noticed that Chinese furniture store next to the seven eleven before we moved. That will be helpful in the event I find a need for Chinese furniture. Yes, moving can open your eyes to new things. The size or location of where you live should never the limit the space in your heart. Our Christmas hope is that you open your heart to the love of family and friends wherever you live, and that your vision will be sharpened to the memories you are yet to make. May the PEACE, JOY and LOVE of the season carry you into 2005 with the HOPE of even greater tomorrows.

The letter is notable for a couple of reasons: 1) My dad does not see the need for hyphens with his noun-modifiers; 2) he makes the whole fam sound like we're in constant communication... he was always good at that; and most shockingly 3) the name "Jesus" is not mentioned once.

The phrase "reason for the season," hugely overused during the holidays, is also welcomely absent. My dad is far too inventive for clichés like that. I like this year's letter. There have been years when I have hated it. It even says "Cheers" this year. Good times.

NetLuv

I just ordered car parts online. I fucking love the web.

I have a date tonight with Matthew Guerra. We're going to see Birth. I wonder if he'll want me to put out.

I fucking miss Andrew, I tell you. But I refuse to call him. I haven't talked to that bastard in so fucking long. I have nothing to say to him anyway. I just miss him.

Oh, I am now eligible for benefits at my job. That includes Health Insurance, Dental Insurance, Life Insurance, Injury Insurance, and Accidental Death Insurance as well as a Cafeteria Plan. Good Times. I had a whole meeting with the HR person today about it. I swear, they love me at Avjet.

The Bay Bridge Is My New Favoritest Thing

Hello boys and girls,
I have returned from the land of wine and fags. Mental note: Northern California is lovely; Central California is just like San Bernardino. Central California, I never want to see you again.
Friday evening, my drive began with a friendly sig-alert on I-5. Meaning that it took me an hour and a half to get from the Burbank Airport to Magic Mountain Parkway. There was no traffic for the rest of my drive, but that didn't matter much since the rest of the drive lasted a very unfriendly six and a half hours! And All By Myself, I might add. I put in my learning Spanish on CD thing and did that for a long ass time. Philip Glass kept me company as well. I probably shouldn't mention that at some point I had an intense desire to listen to one of the Vanessa Williams albums I own. Oh well; secret's out. It was approaching 1:00a when I checked into the hotel in Healdsburg, Sonoma County. I was out like a light.

Free breakfast in the morning, so you know my ass was up. I looked around the little hamlet of Healdsburg: lame. So I bought a turkey/pesto sandwich and started reading The Thief's Journal in the park downtown (no small feat, I assure you.)

The wedding was Saturday afternoon and it was lovely. It was easily the nicest wedding I have ever been to in my whole life. It was on the lawn of this mansion they rented out next to a winery. It was beautiful. There were only 21 guests, too, so it was very personal. Madison & Brantley had a card on each of our chairs with such nice stuff written in each of them. After the ceremony, which was brief but emotional, they took pictures on the lawn, while the sommelier busted out the Syrah. He offered white as well, but I ignored him, and I think nearly everyone else did too. I had already made fast friends with Maddie's younger married friends Brian and Suzy, so we spent most of our time together, laughing about casting directors and making fun of architecture (and other people's outfits, naturally). Where was I? Okay, we're eating goat cheese tartlets and bruschetta, and drinking Syrah, while the bride and groom are taking pictures. Then we ate. The mansion did all the catering themselves, so we got a choice of appetizer: Sugar Pie Pumpkin Ravioli or Endive Bleu Cheese Salad. I chose the wrong one and opted for the ravioli: foolish me, the salad was awesome. Then we got a choice of entrée: Filet Mignon, some fish, or gnocchi. The fish was really cool actually: they had stuffed it with herbs and garlic. It looked awesome. I naturally, ordered the beef and felt no guilt at all. Oh wait! I missed some stuff.

So when we got to the tables, instead of name placards, there was a silver-framed black-and-white photograph of each of the guests with their name on it and a small poem or saying on each picture. They were all pictures that either Brantley or Madison had taken themselves and wanted to share with us: so cool. Also, there was a pianist and a saxophonist on hand throughout. So after dinner and cake (which was gorgeous, as well), there was dancing and toasts and then we all talked and laughed for a while.
After that, Brian and Suzy and I went to "party in downtown Healdsburg." It was our joke, but we ended up finding a very swank place that would've fit in perfectly in WeHo or Pasadena. It was called BarnDiva's and let me tell you, they had some badass drinks here. The first thing I ordered was called "On the Beach with Fidel": some peach, rum concoction, and the second drink was some kind of gin fizz with lemongrass syrup. It was trés badass. We hung out for a while: there's a long story about a persimmon that I'll leave 'til I see you all. I got back to my hotel safe and sound.

I woke up today and decided not to hang out with the wedding party: and I'm glad I didn't because I got home around 6:00p after leaving Healdsburg at 11:15a. The long drive alone is not something I can recommend with any seriousness.

At any rate, the weekend was successful and I am tuckered out. Call me if you wanna see a movie this week. I no longer have a weeknight gig.

Sometimes, When I Think No One Has Good Ideas...

I see trailers like this one.

Jane Fonda is back, bitches! And she is making J-Lo's life Hell. Life is Grand.

What Do You Take to Make You Happy?

It's the middle of the week and I'm going to go to sleep.
It's funny how things become so habit-forming. Life is habit-forming. I've been driving to Pomona every single night that I have worked at Avjet and I was doing that a week before I started working at Avjet. That's seven weeks now. And yet, tonight, I drove home and didn't think a thing of it. I went to Starbucks and got my coffee ground, picked up some quarters, went home and did laundry for the first time in two weeks, finished watching The Decline of the American Empire, washed all the dishes in the house, fixed myself a dinner of eggs, ham and jalapeños, poured myself a glass of white wine, and sat down to think. Like nothing. Like it was nothing special. And now, when I think about it, I think about how special being able to do all of those things is. I am very grateful to the theatre in general and specifically to CSUP for allowing me to work there, but I am exhausted. The work has been so much. And working at Avjet and then driving an hour and a half everyday has not been easy. I will miss the theatre in a week and a half, but for now, I feel quite peaceful. I shall return to attending the cinema.

The Decline of the American Empire was incredible. I love intellectuals. It made me want to see The Barbarian Invasions again. I mite rent it. It goes against my normal m.o. of not re-watching movies (there are so many unseen), but I am again excited about Denys Arcand's work, and I love these characters. If you haven't seen either of these rent one or both this weekend.

Tomorrow I drive up north for a wedding, so I will be M.I.A. this weekend. Sorry to all of you folks who were planning on calling me to go out at the last minute. But my weeknights are free now and I will be hitting the cinema.
Allan, let's go see Sideways or Birth or Undertow one night next week. Is that a possibility?
Wahima, if you can make it out here next week, maybe we can go catch The Incredibles.
Elizabeth, Justin, fucking call me already.

*

Today there was a barbecue at a place that supplies fuel to Avjet in celebration of the holidays and their new general manager. I, of course, wanted to go (free food, hello), and all of the ladies in Accounting wanted to go too, so we figured we'd all go together. So... I emailed Stephen in Operations (cute/engaged/from one of the Dakotas) when I got in at 8:30.
We're all going to the Mercury barbecue at 1300. Do you want to come?
What is that?
It's for the holidays, I guess. Free food. Barbecue. I don't really know.
I forgot my lunch today, so sure, I'll come.
Cheers.

Stephen is kinda shy. But the girls in accounting are outgoing and crazy, so they were teasing him and asking him questions, and they convinced him to come with us for Thai food next Friday. There has been some other (light) drama at Avjet in our department, but I come out looking swell, quite frankly. I am really fast, and the ones who work hard see this... even my enemy, the CFO.

Now I'm listening to "Little Red Corvette." So good.

Foreigner Part Dos

Someone--namely me--is spending way more time on The Foreigner than he ever did on Valparaiso. Grr. Dialect work is going fine... all of their dialects are going to be okay. Most of my work right now is with Jensen and his semi-cockney dialect, but that's because his is the hardest and he has a lot of fricking lines.

Chris Gelvin made me so fucking mad today. He kept fighting me. Linda specifically said to me "fix it." She left the room and told me to fix the scene. I know how to do that. But what I don't know how to do is fight with actors... because I've never had to do it before. Chris says to me "I'm doing this because the script says to" and "Well, Linda told us this..." and "There are question marks in the script." I finally said "I want you to try this and this and this and before you start to argue, I don't want you to fight me; what I want to do is see what I just said. Go." That Jamison kid can manage this: Gelvin just can't seem to. GRRR. I am not a moron. If you let me, I can help you. Perhaps you have no idea that your scene sucks and that I am here to fix it, but everyone else knows the scene sucks, so shut up and try my suggestions and maybe they will work. Ass.

I worked 9.25 hours today at Avjet. That's a lot of money. Woo hoo. Can you say chandelier? I can.

Dang Ferners

Well it isn't the smartest comedy I've ever seen, but The Foreigner is still pretty darn funny: thanks mostly to some witty writing, and—it must be said—the performances of Brittney and Jensen. Matt Guerra is really good, too: very funny. The play goes to pieces at the end: the author has absolutely no idea how to get all the balls he's thrown in the air back into someone's hands, but it ends amiably enough... if completely unbelievably. Chris Gelvin has no idea what he's doing, but he stumbles his way through it and makes it look okay. (I think the problem with Gelvin is he doesn't know how smart his character is... I think he's making him as smart as possible; I just think he's limited.) My "pro-life" friend is the weakest link onstage, unfortunately. He has no timing whatsoever and the parts where he carries the show just drag like you wouldn't believe. AND...

If I were Tori I would not have taken this part—mainstage or no. This is as unflattering a role as I have ever seen anyone play: myself and Caroline Collins included.

Still, The Foreigner made me laugh... a lot. There were times when I literally could not stop laughing.

Cheers, guys. I have two more days of dialect work with them. I spent most of my time tonight with Jensen and likely will do tomorrow, as well.

The Decline of the American Empire

A minute in a room together. Do you understand how every minute is a recapitulation of her life. Or mine. Or both our lives breathing down on us.

I am glad I directed Valparaiso. I think it's a beautiful, timely piece that grabbed me and didn't let go. Still hasn't, I guess.

I did things today. I finished the film of The Caine Mutiny. It sucked. Its reverence for the elderly—no matter their failings and inhumanities—just pissed me off. Fuck that. Just because you were once great doesn't mean I have to be generous—or even deferent—to you if you're being an ass to me.

I also started to watch Le Déclin de l'Empire Américain. The DVD stopped after about an hour fifteen, though, so I have to wait for Netflix to send me a new one. Boo. Great movie, though. At least so far.

I visited Jai in Claremont, but our visit was mostly cut short by a thirty-two-year-old drunk man who decided we needed help with our conversation. His name was Theodore Roosevelt Bennett, a name I guessed correctly when I was given three guesses and told he was a dead president. Random. Theodore thought Jaime and I were married. I was wearing my ring on my left hand today because I got a blister on my right during strike last night... so she and I played along with the married thing. I hate when people assume I'm straight. It represents deep-rooted prejudice, I think.

Speaking of which, it was revealed to me that a young man in whom I was formerly interested is anti-choice. That kills it for me.

I talked to my friend Ayana tonight for a long time about spirituality and direction. I always feel so good after talking to her. She has such a strange perspective on reality and spirituality. I find it jarring, but somehow possible.

Tomorrow I will do yoga and possibly write my statement of purpose. Possibly.

Book of Questions: 70

These are from The Book of Questions by Gregory Stock.

70: When did you last yell at someone? Why? Did you later regret it?

I honestly cannot remember the last time I yelled at anyone. Jeremy continually reminds me of the last time I lost my temper... and that was over 2 years ago. I try never to yell. I am often angry, but I find that yelling is usually the least effective recourse.

Test Results

I got my GRE scores in the mail today.

Verbal: 680 out of 800 (95th percentile)
Quantitative: 720 out of 800 (72nd percentile)
Analytical Writing: 5.5 out of 6 (86th percentile)

I guess they're okay. I wish they were better, but I did fairly well, I think--especially on the verbal. That 95% looks very fetching in the moonlight.

I am starting to feel somewhat differently about Valparaiso. Some of its failings were evident to me while watching tonight. The lighting in Act I is too dark, and Act I simply doesn't move as quickly as it ought to. I wish it were faster. I wish it lasted 27 minutes instead of the 33 it lasts. I mean, the show is still really interesting, but Act I could be a lot better. Act II is really really good, though, and definitely saves the rest of the show, but I don't think Act I goes out on enough of a bang. Bill still really liked it and a lot of other people like it, too. I know it's good, but I also know it could improve... too bad we only run three nights... and two of them are over.

But I was telling Ashley tonight: I feel like it is a good next step in my work. I am glad I did this show at this time. I think it was the right thing right now for me.

I Am Attempting to Move On

My show opened this evening and everyone seemed to really like it. Even A. Caloca, who notoriously disagrees with me on every piece of theatre we see together.

So... the Oscars.

The foreign film list is out: there are 51 this year, I think. I have seen a total of ZERO of these 51 films and I know very little about them. It is important to note, though, that Spain's entry is The Sea Inside, the new film with Javier Bardem, and not Almodóvar's La Mala Educacion. France's entry is not the upcoming A Very Long Engagement with Audrey Tatou: it's some film called Les Choristes. And neither Argentina or Brazil was allowed to submit The Motorcycle Diaries. China did submit the soon to be released House of Flying Daggers from Zhang Yimou, director of recent smash hit Hero and older (and much better) films Raise the Red Lantern, Ju Dou, and Shanghai Triad.

The animated film list came out today. Here are the eleven possibilities:

Clifford’s Really Big Movie
Teacher’s Pet
Ghost in the Shell 2: Innocence
Home on the Range
The Incredibles
The Legend of Buddha
The Polar Express
Shrek 2
Shark Tale
Sky Blue
The SpongeBob SquarePants Movie

Of these, three will be eventually nominated. Clifford, Teacher's Pet, Ghost in the Shell 2, Home on the Range and Shark Tale were all widely panned by critics and will not likely pick up any awards notice in December either. I haven't heard of Sky Blue, although that might open to critical raves. SpongeBob could have a chance, but I tend to doubt it. I can't even find Legend of Buddha on IMDb, so its chances look positively grim. I think Shrek 2 and The Incredibles are locks. The other nominee will probably be The Polar Express, depending on the movie's popularity.

*
Come see Valparaisio. People are loving it.

After This I Will Try Not to Post About the Election

A friend of mine told me she thinks those who voted for Bush just swallowed a pack of lies and believed them and voted that way because they're stupid. But I believe it's much much worse than that.

50% of this country actually believes that:

• Women should have fewer choices about their own bodies.


• Homosexuals should be second-class citizens, perhaps even criminals.


• War is better than peace.

This is difficult for me to believe, and yet, when I look at the numbers, this is what they tell me. Voters who sided with Bush who claim not to support those three items are delusional. If you vote for them, you support them.

50% of this country voted yesterday to maintain the status quo. And this morning my heart was broken. I feel as though someone close to me has died. But I must learn how to live like this for at least four years into the future. I told myself today that I would just take a deep breath and cross the bridges when I come to them.

Hope, my friends, is not on the way: at least in the near future.

*

I heard today that things do not look good for the chief, either. Chief Justice Rehnquist is ailing badly.

*

My show, Valparaiso opens tomorrow. If you want to come and you need directions/info, comment, and I'll hook you up. I am very excited about it.