Girls of Summer

It is raining in New York, it has been for days. I must finish my thesis by tuesday at the very latest so the rest of my weekend and monday will be spent in a mad semantic-drowned scramble to the finish line. I don't even care if it's awful, I just want it OVER WITH.

Showcase was a blast and it went really well I think. It was all over so quickly. It was sort of like Christmas usually is for me, the racing around and stressing out that starts when I get home on the 23rd and then ends definitively two days later. We spent all of sunday in the theater teching the show, from noon to midnight. Then the show ran for two short nights and then...it was over. I had been obsessing about that moment for years and it all ended in a flash, as it usually goes I suppose. Life is funny that way. Everytime I make a big deal out of anything it ends up slipping by just like any old thing. On wednesday we had the directing 3 projetcs, the Three Sisters scenes, which went well I think. My last sweet moment on the fordham stage. Finit enfin! Tralala! I had woken up that morning a little depressed. The post-show slump, feeling myself very much on the way out into the great unknown.

And now I'm stuck in my room, which is still fully my room, I haven't begun packing a bit. My roomates are moving this weekend up to their apartment in the heights, just a few blocks from mine.

I promised myself I wouldn't start anything else until I'd finished my thesis - that would have been just like me, to take up a new project before I'd finished the first one. And since the thesis is required for me to graduate - well, it takes first priority. Plus I'm not actually kicked out of my current place until the 18th at noon. And my bed doesn't arrive uptown until the 10th. I've got to paint the room before anything arrives. I picked a color - 'cafe royal'. It looks just like coffee with cream in it - delicious. I can't wait to get set up. Cook in my new kitchen.

All waits on the thesis. I have 3 pages of the projected 40, although I'm not gonna lie, I may just stop after 30. Who wants to write 40 pages about identity politics in the 16th century british isles? That's right. No one. Because it's boring.

I wish it wasn't raining but at least I'm not being called outside and jealous of the sunshine. There is no sunshine, just gloomy misty gray.

Oh! I got a call from the casting assistant at Guiding Light from showcase (I'm hoping its the first of many calls, but that may be a fruitless wish). I have a short interview on monday in which I will be beautiful, witty, and enchanting. Grace, my vocal teacher (of the Fitzmaurice bent) urged me to apply for grad school in the fall saying 'you've really got something there'. I was extremely flattered/ considered asking, "why, can you get me into Yale?" I'm considering it. Not quite sure if I'm ready to go back to school. I mean, I'm not even really out yet. I can't make that decision. Plus, what if I had to move? I just found an apartment.

Anyway. Off to work I go. Bored out of my mind.