Because I Often Need This Reminder

Students don't often write little notes telling me they liked a course or found the work I assigned useful. So when they do, it is good to keep a record. More for my own sanity than anything else: a reminder that I am not a useless teacher and that students sometimes find a course I teach impactful.

Since I use this blog as a way to remember things as well as a public forum, I hope this doesn't come across as (too) self-serving or arrogant. In any case, at the end of Winter Term 2013, these are the notes I got from students.

Thanks for a great term and interesting discussions on the topics of sexuality as they are portrayed in the theater. Have a great break. WH

Thanks for such a great class this term and all your help! I had so much fun and recommended all my friends who will be on next term to take your Paris theater class since I won't be on campus :( Have a great spring break! NW

Thanks for the wonderful term. I'm really glad I decided to step out of my comfort zone and take a chance on your class. Please let me know what time the department decides to offer your theater class next term – I may not be able to fit it into my schedule, but I may try to audit it. CJP

I had a great time in your class and I'm glad I chose to take this course (rather than taking another econ/math/dry quant course). CF

Thank you for a wonderful class. This has been my favorite class at Dartmouth so far and I thoroughly enjoyed reading and discussing so many interesting plays! Have a good spring term. KO

Sex & Drama was truly wonderful experience. I enjoyed it very much. Thank you. Thank you for being one of my favorite professors here (I'm not sucking up; it's true). Dartmouth has been an unforgettable experience, and I am glad you were a part of it. I've learned a lot, and am much more aware now. I wish you the best, wherever you may teach. I am positive that the students there will enjoy your classes, no doubt. All the best, Professor Thomas. JT

Thanks for what was honestly one of the very best classes I've taken at Dartmouth. This is coming from a senior w/ the easiest major (psych) and thus a shit ton of free class slots to take whatever i want. Considering taking another one of your classes next term despite never being interested in theater before this winter. Thanks again for such a great semester, see you in class next term! JC-B

I like it here. These young people are certainly a polite bunch.

He Even Mentions Gayle Rubin!

I got a shout-out in the FSView/Florida Flambeau this week. One of my most brilliant students, the delightful Perry Powell, has an op-ed piece in the FSU newspaper about sex and the current generation.

Decide what’s right for you and do what turns you on. Perry says. Do it for humanity.

Adventures in Teaching or "Why They Shouldn't Let Me Near a Classroom"

An email I got from a student whose initials are J.P.R.:

is there a reason why i dont have a grade for my second response paper?

My response:

'Cause I haven't graded the 'R's yet. Patience, my son.

Picture Share

This is a fun photo I took on the sly (sort of--if you look closely you can see that two of my students caught me) of my students taking their midterm exam on Friday. It made me smile:

Things I've Written Most Frequently on Papers I've Graded

1. Underline or italicize major works of art like plays.

2. Instead of giving me your opinion in the first person, think about phrases like “The evidence will show that…” and “A closer examination of the text proves…” Critical analysis is not just your opinion, but a critical interpretation of the textual evidence in front of you.

3. What is your evidence for this statement? You must support conjecture like this with specific historical, textual, or critical evidence.

4. Quotes comprised of fewer than four lines do not need to be set off in the block-quote format.

5. Quotes exceeding four text lines should be set off in the block-quote format described in your MLA handbook.

6. Hyphenate compound adjectives such as this one.

7. The second person is generally considered out of place in an analytical essay. Use the first person (sparingly) or the third person for more effective arguments.

8. Songs or smaller pieces of a larger work of art are put in quotation marks.

9. Does the text of the play support this claim?

10. Can you give a specific example in the text of this?

11. Please use MLA format for your paper. Your name goes at the top left corner of the paper. Review your MLA handbook.

12. Cite your source for this quote.

*
Can you tell I don't feel like doing any of the tasks I've assigned myself?

Long Day

Today is going to be a long day. This morning I'm having a meeting to plan my facilitation of a discussion of Marxist Theory in relation to theatre (the discussion itself isn't until Wednesday). Then I'm covering for my girl Amy in her morning class of Intro to Theatre. THEN I'm meeting with a student in regard to a plagiarism issue (yikes.) THEN I'm meeting with the teacher of my Intro section to discuss my performance as a TA (not performativity, just how well [or poorly] I'm doing in the class.) THEN I have office hours. THEN I have my own section of Intro to TA. Then I think I'll have a slight meal break and hopefully get part of a paper written or some research done before my date tonight with the gentleman friend. We're going to see Urinetown: the Musical, which they're doing here at the FSU School of Theatre.

Roomie saw the show last night and said she didn't particularly care for it, but I'm hoping it was just an off night. That's why I wanted to go on a Friday instead of a Thursday in the first place. When I was in university, I always thought Thursday's shows were never as good as Friday's.

And I have SO much work to do this weekend I can't even talk about it.

School Is Keeping Me Busy

Today I'm grading papers. I am so sick of reading about gender issues in Othello I can't even talk about it. Some of them are about racial issues, too. And, like, two of them have been about how Othello is a tragic hero in the Aristotelian sense. Let me tell you I am tiiiiiired of this play.

I have fifty-one papers to grade on Othello before Wednesday. I've finished more than half, but I have a new batch of papers coming in on Wednesday, so I have to get cracking. Wednesday's papers are going to be all about Fences. I like that play a little better than Othello, but I'm sure after fifty of those I'll be just as sick of August Wilson.

In truth, though, I'm only grading papers because I really really don't want to do what I should be doing (researching Faust.) So may the lord bless Othello and paper-grading. At least it's keeping me away from Johann von Goethe.

High School Exit Exam in California

I heard a lot of news reports about this thing on the way home and I started to think... you know, I have to honestly say I have no sympathy for these students who can't pass the high school exit exam. Evidently, 89% of all California high school students passed the exam and are good to graduate, but there is an 11% minority that didn't actually pass the test and will not be receiving their diplomas in June unless they do. Ten of these students are suing in State court, saying that because education is not equal across the state, a uniform test should not be given across the state.

I asked my mother the high school counselor about it when I went to visit my folks tonight (I was blessed with free food and a free haircut: hooray!) Mom says that CAHSEE (that's what it's called for short) is easy. She says that the public schools offer classes to help specifically with CAHSEE. She says that the students start taking the test when they are sophomores, and that they have numerous chances to take the test in their senior year. And even if they don't pass the test and graduate with their class, they can stay an extra year (or more often a semester... sometimes even just summer school) and pass the test and then graduate.

My thought is this: there is no reason to have a standard if you don't hold everyone to it equally. Plenty of people in all walks of life and in every school in the state passed the exam. Who are these students who didn't pass the exam? They might be lovely people, but they didn't work hard enough to pass the test and that—as they say—is that. Why didn't they pass? Were they ditching class? Were they not doing homework? Because many, many students—an overwhelming majority, in fact—did pass the test.

And I heard that the president of the state teachers' union was out protesting this morning with whomever else was there and I thought "what nonsense!" The teachers' union, as usual, wants no accountability at all. Of course the teachers' union doesn't want anyone evaluating the job they're doing. But a test that says that each student with this specific piece of paper (a high school diploma) has a certain level of knowledge and a certain level of reading comprehension and critical thinking seems to me to be a very good thing.

Mom says that no one has done a study comparing the SAT and CAHSEE, but she ventured to say that a passing grade on CAHSEE was probably somewhat equivalent to a 750 on the SAT.

Job Frustration

I spent the day at Cal Poly Pomona for the most part. Nowadays, I'm part-time faculty there, if you hadn't heard. 'Course, I still work my forty hours a week at the airport, so it's a little difficult to spend the amount of time there that I would like. On a whim I called in sick to the airport and went to the school to take care of stuff for my employment (visit HR, buy a parking pass, that kind of thing) and try to meet a little bit with the production manager for my new show.

The meeting with the production manager was great. She's the new head of design at CSUP and she seems quite eager, excited and clear-headed. She also seems like she will be a really good teacher and a willing mentor to younger design students. It was kind of energizing, really. In fact, the whole day really excited me and I'm very glad I decided to spend my day working there.

As I was there I kept thinking how much I wish I could do it full time: be faculty at a university, even CSUP. I keep thinking: I don't make that much at the airport, not much at all, and even if CSUP paid me bare minimum for teaching, say, twelve units... while it wouldn't quite match up to what the airport pays me, I could get by. I could, and I would be so much happier. And it would only be twelve units. I'm not sure how possible that is, but that's what would have to happen. It'll be different, I guess, when I have a real degree that means something. Twelve units just seems like nothing.

I was in the department, meeting with Linda, meeting with Bill, talking with Joyce, talking with Marie, bothering Dennis, meeting with the new design lady (her name is Elizabeth), and then I met two new freshmen who were at orientation and I had a short meeting with a student who's going to be my stage manager for the show and then another student came up to talk to me. I have an office now, or rather I share one with the five other part-time faculty, but I was the only one there today so I had it all to myself. I took the student into the office and we just talked. She's juggling a lot this next quarter and needed to talk through her problems and asked my advice on how to do it and needed help finding an audition piece. This girl was struggling and I was actually able to help her out: in short, do my job as a faculty member and give this young lady advice and comfort and encouragement. Whenever this happens, I am reminded that this is where I belong: doing the job of a teacher.

It all seems so clear, but it is all so impossible in my present position.
See, they aren't paying me for twelve units: not even close.
They're paying me for one unit.
I can't afford to give advice; I can't afford to teach.
I can't afford to quit my other job.

I can only afford to show up at 6:30p after my hour-and-a-half commute from Burbank.

Professor for a Day

Allan Fortes and I were invited to return to CSUP today (along with Christine Reifer) as "Alumni Professors for a Day." I thought it would at least be interesting... I mean, I am not a serious working director who doesn't need a day job to support himself, but I do have advice to share and experiences to relate (and so did Allan, although I don't think either of us thought we did before they asked us to do this.)
Or so I thought...
Instead of putting us in a class with senior or junior actors who might have questions for us about acting in Hollywood or working in Los Angeles as theatre artists or applying to graduate schools, they had us talk to a bunch of non-majors who were in an acting class to suffice one of their GE requirements. Dumb. I didn't have anything to say to them and I don't think they would've cared if I had. Allan had more to say than I did, but I felt like it was seriously wasted time. They gave us a very nice lunch, though, and I spent some time with Linda and I got to see my friend, so it wasn't a total loss.

And then I spent the rest of the day reading Two Gentlemen of Verona, which I will definitely be directing this summer.

Y Generation E-val

My show Voices from the Y Generation will close tonight after what can be termed, I suppose, a successful run at CSU Pomona. I always feel as though I ought to hedge my bets when a show opens, always feel dissatisfied with what is going on and nervous about my audience's reaction to the work. And then, my family cannot be trusted chiefly because they have bad taste and secondly because they are so rarely honest with me. I think they picture me as some sort of über-sensitive artiste who might fly off the handle and into a rage or retreat into self-loathing and despondency at any moment. Nothing could be further from the truth, but then, families always believe they have a grasp on their kin and so often we understand our relatives much less than we understand people to whom we are not biologically linked.

But last night, all the playwrights were present, as was their writing teacher, and all were pleased. Audience reaction was wonderful. There was laughter from the first ten seconds of the first show and it continued through the end of Act I. Some of it was nothing short of uproarious and there was, occasionally, applause at this or that actor's joke. It's as though the audience is its own element of the show, needed as much as light or music, for the show to become what it is intended to be. This is, obviously, not a new theory about theatre, but it was certainly driven home to me last night. Friday night's show did not differ from last night's hardly at all from our side of it, yet the audience was hugely different in its response. Tonight's show will be different, I think, as the actors will feel residual success from the feedback they got last night.

Best of all for me, what I do as a director is showcased really well by this show, and all of the faculty will have seen it after tonight, securing me a job again for next year: a good thing, as I have nothing lined up after the summer. Perhaps I should try to get A.D. work somewhere... or not. That time could probably be better spent reading, writing or otherwise improving my scholarship.

Thank you to all of my friends who came out to see the show. I appreciate your constant encouragement and support. Especially my peeps on LJ: Elizabeth, Tito, Kirsten, Ashley, Allan, Danny, and Kim. Thank you, guys.

An English Lesson: Lie & Lay

The title of my last post is the cause of this.

Present tense
First person singular: lie / lay
First person plural: lie / lay
Second person singular: lie / lay
Second person plural: lie / lay
Third person singular: lies / lays
Third person plural: lie / lay

Past tense
All: lay / laid

Past participle
All: lying / laying

So...

I lie on the bed (I recline)
He lies on the bed (He reclines)
They lie on the bed (They recline)
I was lying on the bed. (I was reclining)
I lay on the bed. (I reclined)

I lay down my book.
He lays down his book.
They lay down their books.
I was laying down my books.
I laid down my books.

National Socialism Lay in a Fiery Ditch

Further complicating the matter, I suppose, is the American usage of "lay" meaning "to have sex with" and "lay (out)" meaning "to knock over," not to mention "lie" meaning "to tell an untruth" and "lay" meaning "to produce an egg (or flatulence)."

He lay on the bed.
He laid him out in the middle of the restaurant.
He laid him on the beach.
He lied to everyone.
You lie.
We lie.
They lie.
I need to get laid.
He laid one.
I need to lie down.

Poster

My Stage manager is posting this around the department at CSUP to promote involvement in the Spring Black Box show. I hope it's a good idea... more importantly I hope it works.

ACTORS
What are you doing this Spring?

Try something new...

This Spring actors, designers and director Aaron Thomas will collaborate with student playwrights on
new, exciting work!

You have a chance to have a lasting influence
on the creation of a new play,
to make your ideas as an actor heard and
be a part of a company of artists
working toward a common goal:
powerful, affecting, meaningful theatre!!

Auditions: Mon 2/28, Tue 3/1, and Wed 3/2
NO PREPARED MATERIALS REQUIRED TO AUDITION

Rehearsal: Sun-Wed 3/28 - 5/3
ONLY FOUR NIGHTS A WEEK!

Performances: Thu-Sat 5/4 - 5/7

BE THERE
SI TÚ TIENES PREGUNTAS:
E-MAIL RYAN (rtirrell@xxx) or AARON (a.c.thomas@xxx)

Bad Grammar

When I had a cd player at my desk at American Accounting, I mostly listened to my own music collection, which is quite varied (say, The Lion King to Cesaria Evora to Cristián Castro to Rufus Wainwright to Igor Stravinsky) If I listened to the radio I almost always listened to KPCC 89.3 (which is NPR) or if someone I didn't like was talking, KUSC 89.3 (which is classical public radio.)
In my department at Avjet, however, we are forced to listen to the DJ's choices on KBIG 104.3 out here in Los Angeles. It is the absolute worst kind of pop music: Ashlee Simpson, Cristina Aguilera, Céline Dion, 98 Degrees, you get the picture. Most of the singers are people I had never even heard of before this job. It's not like KOST 103.5, which plays sappy love songs from primarily the 1980s: REO Speedwagon, Air Supply, Tina Turner, etc. Those at least I could sing along with. KBIG plays drek drek and more drek, punctuated occasionally by a Madonna song or something good by Prince.
I put up with this, though, because the girls in accounting seem to need it to keep awake.
On Monday, however, it took a turn for the even worse. They started announcing the following before every commercial break: "More music; less commercials." That's right: "More music; less commercials."

I responded out loud "Less commercials?!" "Less commercials?!" Can they not even speak English on this radio station? I shook my head and went back to work, but the folks at KBIG were not to be corrected. They continued their slogan every thirty minutes on the hour and half-hour: "More music; less commercials."

By 4:00p I had had enough. I told the girls I was switching the station. I just couldn't take the abuse of my language. And sure enough, KOST had a slogan of their own: "More music...

fewer commercials."

The music still sucks, but at least they remember how to speak English.

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.

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.

Magicalness?

As I pulled onto Interstate 210 in this ridiculous weather, The Sorcerer's Apprentice began to march out of my car stereo. Magic? No. Lame. I'm a commuter and I'm wet and cold and I hate traffic. It takes a hundred years to get anywhere.

Rehearsal was not good today. It wasn't bad, either, but it wasn't a good day. I lectured Courtney and Celeste a bit. Why is it that these two don't know their lines? I told them there was no reason in the world for that and they needed to figure their shit out. I told them they were wasting the time I give them. Hopefully I don't see books in their hands tomorrow.

Sally and I had a meeting with the lighting designer affectionately known as Buenaluzer. He did exactly what I wanted him to, so I won't be complaining about him. He says the show will be focused on Saturday and we will be building cues on Sunday. This means Q2Q on Monday and no tech with the actors, just like I like it.

CFO was in a little after 9:00a today and went home sick at 12:30p. Hooray, hurrah. My day got nicer the moment I realized she wasn't coming back.

I was kept awake last night by lingering worries about something I did about a month ago at my old job, but it got fixed today by my brother... it was kind of his mess, so it was good he cleaned it up. I shall sleep peacefully this evening.

There is this person at Cal Poly—this student—that I don't exactly have a crush on, but that I seem to want to impress. I say this after pondering my behavior this evening. I hate when I am the way I was tonight. I was funny and clever, but too funny and too clever for my own good. I feel arrogant and I hate it. I know I am arrogant on occasion. Like, I know that that's true. But I try not to be. I try to quell the impulses that tell me to act like I'm some kind of brilliant lunatic. This is for other people to notice and point out. It is not my job to make a show of my cleverness. And then I think about Judith and I just tell myself to shut the fuck up. I mean, Is what I'm saying essential? Or interesting? Or even helpful? Couldn't I begin to think about how necessary my voice is... and alternately how unnecessary my voice sometimes is?

They Still Have Not Fixed the Motherfucking Elevator in My Building. What in the Fuck Is Going On?

Might I possibly see two (2) movies this weekend? How is Friday, Allan? I hope it's good 'coz it's the only night I'm free.

Cinerama

I had a whole long update about competitive behavior and neckties but my computer restarted and I just can't think about it.

I talked to Kristen yesterday on the East coast and she seems good. The mood and speed and culture of Boston seem to agree with her.

I am going to go see This Is Cinerama from 1952 at the Arclight on Saturday at 10:00a in their Cinerama dome and then I'm going to go see my old university chum Marcos in a show called Boyle Heights on Saturday night. Anyone and everyone is invited to either event. Just call me.

I haven't had a bad rehearsal yet and it was four weeks today. This has never happened before. Kevin says, though, that I constantly give him conflicting directions and that it's never been as bad as it is with this show. I told him that he gives me things I don't expect and that changes how I think about the show. Mostly, I think, I understand the show so much less than I normally do: or rather, my ideas about the show are less solid and more mercurial than they normally are when I direct. Because of this, I am more susceptible to changing my ideas because of something the actor does. It means the show is more collaborative, but more difficult to navigate for the actor.

This show is going to be so good. I don't want to oversell it, but I think it is really special. I think the acting is quite good, and the play is rich and dense and funny and yet concise and even short. I am very excited for people to see it.

Tardiness

Aaron was pissed today when Cyn was late to rehearsal. What if Bill had actually come to the run-thru and not cancelled this afternoon? Then her gaffe would have been for Bill to witness. Wouldn't that have been a scandal? She eventually showed and apologized, but I was having none of it.

I was always taught not to apologize. If I'm sorry for what I've done, I modify my behavior and that modification is my apology. I don't apologize; I change.