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Alright, I suck. We’re going back in time a week.

The first time they ran Free Comic Book Day I was in college, with enough idle geeks in my environs that I could justify organizing a trip to all of Manhattan’s major comic book stores. This hasn't been feasible for awhile, and this time the comics wound up being incidental to the mission of flyering for MoCCA (I picked up a bagful, of course, but this was at Forbidden Planet, where they were dispensing mostly superhero comics that I didn’t much care about—which ought to teach me to go straight to Rocketship next year). We got rid of all of our fliers before too long, netting some positive responses from anyone who actually looked at them, and then I headed uptown for a home-cooked CUSFS banquet. Going back to college? Still weird.

Sunday was a theatre day with the parents that wound up encompassing both the dregs and the heights of the New York theatre scene. Our matinee was The New Century, the last show in our Lincoln Center Theater subscription. I disliked it enough that I’m pretty sure it’s knocked something else off my list of the ten worst shows I've ever seen, and we’re probably talking over 600 of ‘em by now. Granted, plenty of the audience—and a lot of reviewers, but New York theatre reviewers are hopeless—seemed to be enjoying themselves, but that almost made it worse: jokes about broad gay stereotypes are bad enough when they're aimed at audiences that will understand that they're jokes, but are vaguely creepy when most of the people watching are straight old people from New Jersey. Probably the show's only redeeming quality was Jane Houdyshell, who can't help but inject some humanity into whatever she's in.

But the day was a net gain thanks to The Sound and the Fury (April Seventh, 1928), an Elevator Repair Service show at the New York Theatre Workshop that’s grounded in a word-for-word enactment of the first part of The Sound and the Fury. It is a living example of theatre’s transformative powers that a direct literary adaptation could yield something so beautifully done and weird and funny and involving, one of those shows that teaches you how to watch it as you go. I immediately wanted to see it again, but this is why theatre both gives and takes in its ephemerality: given a fast-approaching close date and the droves of people lining up to get on the wait list, I pretty much had to give up that idea as impossible. But then they extended the show for a week and I was able to grab four more tickets for the final performance: bless you, NYTW and your $20 Sundays. If you're at all able, you should try to snag one, too.

I can't remember anything about what I did on Monday, and there is nothing in my schedule wiki, which is kind of discomfiting. Did I see you? Was I there? But on Tuesday there was NYRSF, where I heard Kelly read her glorious story "The Cinderella Game" for the third time. And dinner gave us the opportunity to have a long talk for the first time in awhile, a secret cabal of quiet-voiced people talking under the crowd.

On Wednesday we had the volunteer orientation for the MoCCA Art Festival. It was reasonably well-attended by interested-seeming people; the only downside being that that meeting marks the point where, whenever I am doing non-MoCCA-related things with my free time (like, oh, writing this entry), I am kind of shirking and should kind of be stopped. After we finished, I rushed home to eat a sandwich and meet a prospective new roommate, who...did not show up. He is automatically less awesome than ecmyers.

A digression: Back in ‘04, my dearest darling Shay got me into the habit of attending the annual screening of Oscar-nominated shorts that the Academy puts on each year at Lighthouse International. I eventually sucked fullcopy into the habit; but we missed it this year, out of strike-related timing confusion, and me with theatre tickets, and him with bridge. Eventually he convinced julianyap that we should just buy all of them on iTunes and do a home screening. On Thursday we actually went through with this plan, and though it was a long night, and I disagreed with the winners (as usual), it was probably the strongest overall slate I’ve seen so far. glvalentine, have you seen "Tanghi Argentini"? It is darling.

On Friday, musetoself, glitter_femme, and I ate some empanadas (the new cupcake!) and then saw Crooked at the Women's Project. It was impeccably acted, frequently hysterical, sometimes brutal, and— though I kind of felt like I'd been slapped when it ended—I basically loved it and can't stop thinking about it. There is only one performance left, but if you're not doing anything on Sunday afternoon, there are many worse things you could do than show up at the Julia Miles at 2:00 and try to rush it.

After the play, I bought some cookies and brought them to Matt's party, where I felt vaguely entertaining for awhile, totally awkward for about twice that long (repeating “this is why people drink” in my head the whole time), and then gave up and went home in a fit of social retardation. Sigh. Also: friends my age getting engaged? Still weird.

When I started this entry on Saturday morning, it was supposed to end that afternoon with some statement about what a relief it was to have a completely unscheduled day, especially given how full my Sunday was going to be. This plan was spoiled by the fact that I had been shockingly moronic and had listed the two plays on the wrong day in my schedule, a mistake that was—comically? tragically?—perpetuated by an e-mail from my mother that said "We'll see you at 1:30 at Sunday" (she meant in the Park with George, of course, though she did not actually say that last part). I misread this note as a confirmation that both shows were on Sunday, and didn’t think enough about how improbable that was until my parents showed up at my apartment, half-convinced that I was dead, to ask why I had failed to show up. Eeep. Don't let anyone ever tell you that too much theatre doesn't lead to a life of ruin! Anyway, I have the unused ticket, and I’ve managed once before to recover from gross flakiness by convincing the box office to let me transfer an unused ticket to a future performance (feminine wiles? No, I have none of those—probably sheer patheticness), so perhaps all is not lost.

Luckily, I hadn't imperiled our plans for The 39 Steps. I'm having a hard time judging this one: I thought the performances were great; the stagecraft was brilliant; that the show is charming and clever, delivers everything it promises, and is doing something genuinely new; and I’d gladly recommend it most anyone. And yet, there's a tiny part of me—the part that hates uncomplicated fun—that feels a little bit dirty about the whole operation, like I’d bought into something I oughtn’t. I suspect I may be dragging unrelated emotions into the equation, but it’s hard to tell from here. Ask again later, I guess.

And that’s it for the past. I am hyperaware that by conflating too many subjects people are less likely to read or respond to any of them, but perhaps you will humor me this time around. Yes? No?


May. 11th, 2008 01:30 pm (UTC)
Friends at our age getting engaged/married is weird. My friend and jr year roommate Warren is 2 and change years my junior and I will be serving as his best man the end of June.

The show is called Sunday, there is a day of the week called Sunday. The responsibility to point out the potential confusion in a way likely to elicit a chuckle or shared knowing "ahhhh." by saying something like "See you at 1:30 at Sunday on Saturday, er... yes..." fell squarely on your mother's shoulders. Letting it pass without comment seems all but inexcusable. That said, good luck changing your ticket, and I'm glad you had a nontrivial amount of theatrical fun, this mishap aside.

Did you, by any chance, happen to catch the 4 character play Providence? Small run in the city earlier this year. Had something very meaningful to say about loss.
May. 11th, 2008 03:44 pm (UTC)
See, the problem is: you've moved from college and being surrounded by idle geeks...to The Industry where geeky is good (certainly encouraged), but idleness doesn't survive.

You need to find idle geeks again. And fast. Because apparently they are all getting engaged. Next, it will be children. That will freak you out more than people your age getting engaged; being introduced to their spawn.
May. 11th, 2008 04:46 pm (UTC)
Consider yourself humored. More importantly, best wishes on the roommate thing.
May. 11th, 2008 09:24 pm (UTC)
Busy week--no wonder you got a few days mixed up!
Empanadas--good ones--rock.
Man, I haven't been to a play in ages!
The Oscar shorts things sounds like fun.
Do you feel sufficiently humored? :)
May. 11th, 2008 09:57 pm (UTC)
Why wouldn't your parents try calling you before showing up at the apartment?

I missed a play once because I totally spaced on the date and I didn't even think to try to get it swapped for some future show. I'll have to try that next time.

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