"We are merely the stars' tennis balls, struck and banded which way please them."

Every time I walk into the Mid-Manhattan Public Library, I walk out with at least one treasure. Sometimes it's something that I've planned and sometimes it's not. Often I'll have books waiting for me, but even then I make sure I stop in the fiction section. I walk into an unassuming row of books and snatch something down from a shelf--whatever catches my eye. I usually don't even check to see what it is until I'm at the check-out counter. This time, it was Stephen Fry's The Stars' Tennis Balls (published by Hutchinson, a subsidiary of Random House which I thought would end up being some kind of ridiculous romp through Stephen Fry's ever-so-comedic-and-well-timed-mind. In a way, I was right. The prose smells of Fry's sometimes-grotesque humor. But it's also a frighteningly well-written adaptation of (of all things) The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas pére. Now, I could not have known, looking at the color of the book or even the cover, or even reading the first 12 pages, that it was going to be an adaptation of one of the most brilliant pieces of literature ever undertaken (which also happens to be one of my most favored books). And yet, there it is. If I'd glanced at the back of the book, where the Literary Review comments were featured, I would have known immediately. It says right there "A Count of Monte Cristo for the dot.com generation...." But I didn't glance back there. I try to avoid it. It wasn't until I got to about page 53, where Ned (Edmond) is on his sailboat that things started clicking. Up until that point, it had been a simple page turner. But suddenly I realized what I was wrapped up in. I remember being stuck on page 53 for about 10 minutes while I worked backwards, pulling names out of the text and figuring out where they fit in. If not brilliant, it's next to brilliant. And Fry respects the reader enough to not give him a bullshit ending. Everything happens in its turn and you cannot be dissatisfied with the ending. I'm not very eloquent so you can read someone who is, HERE

Cheese addiction

It's not even cute. I love cheese. I love.....MOST kinds of cheese....and much of it. literally, if you handed me one of those cheese plates they have at parties I could probably slobber down 2/3 of it in one sitting (and only because I wouldn't like the rest). Hand me a pound of mozzarella cheese (mind you, it has to be a good brand), and I will peel the entire thing apart and eat it over the course of 6 hours. I've never, happily, tried that....but I'll bet you $10,000 I could do it. I say $10,000 because no one will bet me that and if they do I'll happily eat the pound of mozzarella in exchange for being able to pay off my student loans, thanks! Seriously. It's bad. And it's bridged into other kinds of dairy. I've always liked butter. Butter on my everything bagel is heaven. I eat one of those and it's like I've grown fucking wings and am flitting about Elysium fields sipping nectar from giant effing butter flowers coated in everything...ness.

My food budget being what it is and with summer hours at work being....evil....I limited myself over the last two months. I didn't buy butter. The only cheese I bought was laughing cow wedges. I made do with salt-free seasonings and olive oil. And then Key Food decided to have a sale on the day I got a slightly larger paycheck. Kraft singles, buy one get one free. Polly-O Mozzarella cheese 1lb, half off. Breakstone lightly salted butter, 30% off. Bad move, Key Food. Bad. Move.

Not that I can blame a supermarket for my then eating cheese. I can't do that any more than I can blame the laundromat for my clothes being all over my bedroom floor. I bought cheese. I bought butter. I caved. I partly blame the fact that I'd *abstained for longer than I ever have with those two products, and also on the fact that I had PMS and also on the fact that I'd been thinking about the meat-free meatballs I'm gonna make for xmas which made me think about lasagna which made me think about cheese. That'll do it.

Food is a terrible terrible thing. Food should go rot. And it will. But not honey. And, apparently, not figs. Note to self: Bring those damn figs home tomorrow!!

My dairy obsession hasn't reached milk yet. Never been big on milk. I should toggle my dairy setting to milk so that I have that instead of cheese. I eat yogurt. I love yogurt. I want yogurt right now. But I have to go to bed soon. No yogurt.
Seriously, I need to just...stop. With the cheese and the butter. I was doing so well. I felt so good and so much more healthy....and now this weekend I feel/felt like shit. My stomach was like WTF are you putting in me, how dare you, get rid of it, and get your ass on the elliptical or Bob Harper is coming into your living room this Thursday and murdering you. Thanks, stomach. I'll keep that in mind.

On a somewhat less murderous note, I've been a vegetarian for 255 days. Woohoo. No meat for me. On that end, at least, I have been successful. I got over my chicken and bologna cravings. I think I'm still craving brisket though. A nice moist brisket. From Hill Country. Mmmmm. Need to get over that one. Can't go to Hill Country till I'm over it. Dangerous. Very. Dangerous. OH and ribs. Yeah. Gotta steer very clear of Hill Country and Dinosaur BBQ. Yeesh.

*(quick note: in the original draft, I spelled "abstained" as "abstigained" which I'm going to henceforth use as terminology for when a girl feels like she's gained weight b/c she doesn't have enough sex....like the girl on TextsFromLastNight: "(347): Need sex. Gaining weight." Ha. Abstigained. I like it. New word: "abstigain". def (v) to gain weight as a direct (or imagined) result of not having sex. (var) abstigains, abstigaining, abstigained.)

Darwin in America

This upsets me in huge ways: Charles Darwin film too controversial for religious America

I don't get it. I don't get how ALL of the major distributors are refusing to take on this film. Jeremy Thomas, in the article, is cited as saying "It's quite difficult for we in the UK to imagine religion in America. We live in a country which is no longer so religious. But in the US, outside of New York and LA, religion rules." How about for those of us IN New York. I can't FATHOM the suggestion that only 39% of Americans believe in evolution. What the FUCK, America? How is it that the rest of the world can at least take on this film, be it as science or as fantasy, but we can't get our heads out of our asses? I'm completely incredulous right now. The most popular films in the US are the ones about magic, man-made disasters, natural disasters, violence, superheroes, aliens, talking animals, and princesses. But we can't watch what is considered by some to be the best film of the year because a man who lived 150 years ago challenges 61% of us to think outside the box. WHAT?

How effing self-centered can we BE as a nation? I get it...the popular films in America? The ones about superheroes and aliens and violence...oh. right. Those are about AMERICA. Those are about AMERICAN VALUES. Think Sam the Eagle, here. Work with me. But what about all the fantasy films we watch? Oh...well...that can never happen. That's just fantasy. Those are kids' films. Why can't 61% of you go see it and think of it as fantasy while the rest of us enjoy our film? Oh. Right. That's right. Because it THREATENS you. It threatens your beliefs. It threatens your understanding of your god and your faith.....aren't ALL of the major faiths about having your beliefs challenged? I mean I know some people....mostly Americans...take that to an extreme and hate everyone, but isn't testing one's beliefs one of the major functions (watch me be crucified for the use of that word) of religion?

The funniest part of this is: half of the people who will (no matter how it is supplied in the end) refuse to see this film, will go see The Fast & The Furious or some incarnation thereof or There Will Be Blood or Saw in a heartbeat. America is full of wimps. Wimps who will watch violent and horror-filled films to show their American machismo but who will refuse everyone else their right to see one film that will challenge something bigger than their machismo. Everyone is a hypocrite in their own way. I'm ready to believe that Americans are the most ridiculous hypocrites. Not that I have anything against violent or terrifying films. When they're good, they're good. But to say that they are acceptable but a modern film about Darwin is not, is absurdity.

Fall Semester Day One

I wish.

Yesterday was Labor Day. The commercial ending to the summer. Beaches had their last day. Parks had their last summer festivals. So now, according to the city of New York, it's autumn. Even without a calendar, the coming of autumn could have been predicted a few days ago with the 65 degree morning weather and by the scarecrow and pumpkin-decorated bowls and welcome mats lining the shelves at CVS.

Growing up in Orlando things were a little different. School started a few weeks early, before the sweat of summer was over. And in high school I only had 5 weeks of summer because I would spend all of June in summer school, getting courses out of the way so I needn't worry about them later on. Once I got to college I anticipated this day with unbridled glee for weeks. My longing for school was 40% new books and school supplies, 25% friends, and 35% occupation. I hated to be stagnant. I still hate to be stagnant. Even now. I paid my dues, I finished my classes, I got my degree....and still I wish I were back. Employment is not necessarily occupation. In my case, it's not at all. It's busy work. My job is an annoying pop-quiz and all I want to do is be studying for the midterm. I want homework. My brain has suffered these two years with no papers to write. I crave instruction and knowledge and, quite honestly, the chicken fingers and fries from the caf.

More than once I've felt myself tempted to treat all the term papers saved on my computer as rough drafts and re-write them. Perhaps I should. But to what end? It's not good enough.

I want to go to grad school next year. Next to no way am I going to be able to fund it. And that's really upsetting. Part of it is my choice of employment and part of it is my choice of residence. In the latter I am satisfied, though it eats my wages. In the former I am lackluster. I am disappointed. It would be one thing if the company gave us any reason to rally around it. Or any reason to like it. Or any kind of self-respect at all. But the economy is broken and theatre is breaking and non-profits are drowning and we, as a result, have nothing to be proud of. My integrity remains in tact, but for how long? And second jobs are hard to come by. I feel broken. Completely in two.

I sometimes think I should go back to what I've been trained.....what I trained myself to do. Back to that with which I occupied myself. But I think it's too late. I'm bored with theatre. I marvel at very little anymore. The jade curtain has come down, and I've already returned to my books.

As autumn approaches, I could berate myself on my lack of inspiration. But I know I'll have time enough for that when winter comes. For now I'll just wait and see where the semester takes me.