Also:

Why do I read things that contain quotes like this? Who IS this woman? Where is her soul?!

"This is an absolutely huge, huge story for us," said Sarah Ivens, editor in chief of OK! magazine. "Essentially you have two of the most beautiful, famous people in the world. We've all seen they've had one baby, Shiloh, and it is the coolest, most adorable baby on the planet. And this time they're having two? It can't get any better."

Someone just came into work and I introduced myself to her. She said back "Ayana?"

I get good advice from the advertising world!

Well.

So, first of all, something really sad happened. This guy that worked at Union College, and with the BRTC, and Saratoga Shakespeare...had kids that went to SHS, and his wife worked there, too-- died all of a sudden the other night. He wasn't old. My dad called me to tell me. I wasn't close to him, particularly, but he and his wife could always be counted on to say something super nice after shows-- usually too nice. So, I guess, RIP John Miller.

Uh, after that, anything else seems really sort of superficial...but I'll go for it. What first? Um...well, I got my hair cut by the wizards at Bumble and bumble the other morning (Valentine's Day, if I'm going to be specific), for $FREE.00, which is really the best part. I'm happy with it. Though I'm remembering from short haircuts of the past that sleeping does really weird things to short hair. Which means I have to extend more effort to not look like a freak. Which...is good. Anyway, here's a stupid self-taken picture.

That was on the day of the cut....compared with what it's actually going to look like most of time, which is probably something closer to:



We'll see. Anyway.

I saw a bizarre show at The Barrow Group the other night called "Gray Area," written by John Ahlin. It was about threee hardcore reenactors who kidnap a curmudgeonly, Ben Brantley-esque NY theatre critic/secret Civil War scholar after he writes a column deriding their pastime, or way of life, or whatever. The premise was funny and the show LOOKED amazing-- the set was kind of breathtaking and they didn't look too farby....there was a beautiful sound design and of course I was amazed at the number of instruments in use (esp. with "tech" for Wargasm fresh in my mind, where the game was not "What do we want it to look like?" as much as it was "What lights are pointing toward the stage? Awesome." Anyway, it was way too fucking long and not that great but the point is that the word "farb" was used.

Anyway.

I finagled my way out of work and went to the third and final (continent) show of The Civil Wargasm tonight. Friends were out in fine fettle- Erin, Jimmy, Rachel, Molly Ava, LEVI(!), Matt, Ben Lewis, Emily, Billy, Billy's bro and his bf, a ton of Emily's family members and friends from high school. They were insanely supportive. The couple next to me was slugging back beers and muttering lines they (apparently) liked to each other....seconds after they were said. They both liked farb and all variations. A lot.

It was wonderful to hear people laugh at something I wrote. That has rarely, if ever happened before-- I think the last time it happened was, well....the first draft of Wargasm. When I was a sophomore. Uh, yeah. But it was very exhilirating and nerve-wracking and fun and scary all at the same time, and I can see how people can get addicted.

Oh god, I'm tired and this is ridiculous. I will end with: Levi was his usual neurotic self, saying "Why didn't you tell me about this last week? You could have told me earlier you were doing a show. I know you downplay things, I know you're modest, that's your defense mechanism" and I was like "But it's not a big deal!" and then for a split-second I thought "No, he's right! I COULD have made a bigger deal out of this!" Then the feeling was (mostly) gone. I am disappointed that certain people, namely my parents, couldn't see it.

Ah, well. There'll always be other shows. And it WASN'T really a big deal.....oh, come on! :-P

He wouldn't want us to give it away.

Ahh! In the New York Times, for all to see, Jesse Green reveals what we've all been thinking:

"FOR months now, in anticipation of the Dec. 21 release of Tim Burton’s “Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street,” theater buffs have been worrying themselves sick about what would happen to “their” masterpiece when it was remade as a film. Would it still be alive despite drastic cutting? Would it still sing, despite the casting of stars not known for their voices? Or would commercial pressures and Hollywood habit leave it just another corpse on the heap of butchered theatrical translations?"

I like that in one paragraph he manages to both potentially alienate the "theatre buffs" who consider Sweeney "their" show (sure, "we" think that, but if you say it like *that*, "we" look like snobs, man!) AND hook them. Or at least me. Alright, just me.

But I do love that he chose to use the phrase "worrying themselves sick." And of course, I screamed when I saw the article online. Dear god.

I want to say that right now, Aldo's listening to Bing Crosby crooning "White Christmas" and I'm listening to Sweeney.

Nitz gave me a fabulous book for my birthday called "How I Became Stupid." It's about a guy who's so unhappy being intelligent that he decides becoming stupid will make his life easier. He writes a manifesto and this is part of it that made me laugh:

"Nothing anoys me more than those stories where, at the end, the hero is in the same situation as the beginning but he's gained something. He's taken risks, survived adventures but, in the end, lands back on his feet. I don't want to be a part of that lie: pretending I don't already know how all this will end. I know full well that this journey into stupidity is going to turn into a hymn to intelligence. It will be my own personal little Odyssey-- after my share of trials and dangerous adventures I will end up back in Ithaca. I can already smell the ouzo and the stuffed grape leaves."

Today-- Bread and Puppet with Nitz. Tomorrow-- not working. Excellent.