Renaissance Girl

I am stuck on waiting for people to call me back at this point, which is an antsy, unproductive, uncomfortable feeling.
I called Barbara about costuming for Arcadia (& for Patrick & me at the auction), & since I'm super excited about Arcadia (& not so much about school, really) I want her to call me back so I can work on things. In retrospect probably a better idea that I don't, & do, say, homework instead, but still.
& Cozy called me this afternoon to say she got an email from the IES Dublin program we applied to saying that they hadn't recieved her transcript (we both sent them after the app) & her teacher reccomendation. Her what? We thought IES didn't ask for letters unless your GPA is low...but apparently the performance program does, & somehow both of us missed that. How, I don't know. It's not like we haven't been obsessing over this program for weeks.
So I called some IES rep to see if I could fax or email a letter (which of course I have to get first, which is a whole other issue) to make sure it got there on time. & since IES is in Chicago, & Chicago is two hours ahead, they're all out of the office already so I won't know till tomorrow. Which is a day before it's due. Agh.
EDIT: Shana is a goddess & is writing me a letter. YES. (Still need to hear back from IES Lady.)

On the bright side my thesis presentation went well & I got my paper back from Dr. K & he likes it (ha! still happy about that) & he thinks I can work in Derrida, of all things. Sure, I'm always game to throw in postmodernism, it's loads of fun to play with. So I have that paper back to revise, but it doesn't look to onerous.
On the less bright side I have essentially been ignoring Donne in favor of thesis & then tech week, which ate me right after my thesis let me go, so I have to do something before I meet with Dr. McD tomorrow. Also, the other day, he wanted me to think about doing the English honors thesis. My god. Does the whole world want me to go insane?

First off I would like to say that Kayla is such a fun director to work with. Patrick & Kayla & I spent all afternoon filming the second half of her movie, all the fantasy bits. She made a preliminary edit while we ate dinner & let me tell you, it is incredible, & I'm not just saying that because I'm in it.
Also I spent a lot of the time driving around in Kayla's sister's car, a small, sexy, red Volvo named Lolita, with the windows down & music playing & sunglasses on. I could taste summer. (It tastes good.)

So, really, today's events were pretty good. On the bus to Kayla's I made a to-do list for myself, which spanned the entire page. While I was making it I felt really on top of things, a Hey I'm Making A List & I'm Gonna Cross It All Off kind of feeling.
Yeah, well. I don't feel like that now. I feel like crying with frustration at myself, for being a stupid overachiever, with overwhelment at everything that has to get done before Friday (so by Thursday night, that means), with terror at this whole study abroad thing that just got much more complicated by the addition of another program (theater, in Ireland. Oh GOD). I'm just fucked, I feel stupid, I don't feel like I have a handle on anything. I always feel like this at night, & night is when I have time to do homework. That's gotta change. I'm never going to get anything done like this.
I don't want to do this (I will of course, but I don't want to). I want..well, I know what I want, & I'm not going to get it for a while, so I may as well stop talking & try to be useful. Dammit.

...I guess I haven't said anything about Virginia. I don't...I don't have anything to say. It's all been said already. I just...yeah. I have nothing.

ETA (1:27 am): Well, I crossed off two of the things on my list, & am well on my way to crossing off a third. I haven't really touched any of the millions of subpoints on the biggest thing (my thesis obviously*), but at least it's something.

[*I remember back in senior year of highschool I had to name my thesis Abigail because I was getting so sick of opening up the file titled "thesis." This one is just called "Margaret" but I'm thinking of giving it a different name just to keep myself from hating the name Margaret by the end. Maybe "Arthur." Or "Janine."]

I have found two very helpful articles for my Macbeth paper, for which Dr. Bean said I needed more recent critical articles on the witches. Well, I found a passel of them, two of them being very helpful.
Except that one is published in a tiny journal from West Virgina, that nobody owns except the people in West Virgina. They put some volumes online, but, handily, not the ones I need.
The second article sounds interesting as well, published in something called "Colonial and Postcolonial Shakespeares," a collection in book form of essays about Shakespeare. Published in Calcutta. India.
There's now a third article, too, in a journal that another library has, that I could concievably borrow from--except that someone else has already, & it's not due till next week.

Research is fun. & in other news, I really wish it were Thursday.

Well, I'm done with fall quarter, done with finals, done with my paper for Dr. E. I don't like it. I don't like it because I know that given a couple more days, a couple thousand more words on the limit, and the chance for a good long chat with her, I could have written a truly kickass paper. As it stands this paper is more of a vague shuffle in the direction of someone's ass and then running away. It's all right, I suppose. I just don't like it. So essentially Erin & I reached the fuck-it threshold a little while ago, & I edited it & emailed it in, & she's finishing her citations, & we're listening to Eddie Izzard because we can. So while the end of this quarter feels a little anticlimactic, I'm glad to be done.

I'm thriled for tomorrow--for this whole weekend in fact, for a great variety of reasons. Among those I am happy that Vava (Ki's daughter) asked for me to come babysit her; apparently she picks her babysitters from among Ki's students & it makes me fuzzily pleased that she chose me. It's sort of a capstone to this whole finding-a-theater-family thing that really happened this quarter. Last spring was finding my family--my Cozy, Andrew, Andy, Anne, Matt. This quarter that exploded into the entire theater department and beyond, & I found this insane feeling of casually loving acceptance, which is what I crave more than fame or notoriety or passion from people--I want to feel like I belong. But not just anywhere (hello, elementary school), I'm over that; I want to belong among a group of people that...I want to belong to. I can't make it any more clear or concise than that. Except I think I found it. & I am pleased.

Now I'm going to do some cleaning (hey, filing all these historical articles!) and listening to Eddie, & tomorrow I am not setting my alarm. Go winter break!

Today I went to talk to Dr. E--not about anything in particular, thank god, we're not even supposed to be thinking about thesis topics--she just wanted to chat with everyone. We ended up talking for half an hour about power dynamics in Germany, about the way that Venice is neutral & kickass & rich as sin, about new research on the Dogessa of Venice (the Doge's wife, a completely honorary positition & non-inheritable, so it's weird in comparison to other Duke-like positions), & about English history in general. I love how even when I am behind & frustrated, I can feel all re-fascinated with history when I talk with her. She is possibly the best overall teacher I have ever had, & I am so incredibly lucky to get to do this thesis project with her. Man. Now I just have to make sure I do it well.

I had a costume fitting yesterday, which was thrilling. I get to deal with a hatpin for the first time in my life, which is only slightly terrifying, as I nearly jabbed myself in the head last night, & those things are sharp. Also I get nifty vintage gloves. I had Harmony's old ballroom skirt as a rehersal skirt on as well & felt a bit as though I should be doing Wilde instead of Chekhov. (Again last night my brain flashed on CWS, & I must talk to Rosa when she returns, because I know how to direct that thing. I am still so pleased about it.)

Today we have our first run through off book with musicians. Cripes. I should really go work on my lines. I really haven't done a lot of work outside rehersal, & this is a play that needs it more than most. I'm feeling okay on most of my lines, except for my panic-attack speech in the third act--it has a throughline to follow, but it ain't in the words, so I gotta get those down before I can even begin to understand it. Andrew reminded me today that we have, essentially, two weeks left before we perform. Thank you, Perez, for that incredibly comforting notion. Eeep.

In other news, my womb hates me. & that is all.

Moonlight & Magnolias: very funny, very good--I don't envy the techies, because there were peanut shells & banana peels & paper everywhere, but it was a very funny show.

My history reading: Not finished. Deathly dense. I want so much to be interested & involved but there's only so many Henrys & Roberts & crusades & various religious orders I can take before my eyes glaze over.

My brain: Exhausted. I didn't miss that much sleep this weekend. What is wrong with me?

My acting project: Due Tuesday, unbegun. Sigh.

My quarter: Shaping up to be really good, if there are actually enough hours in the day to do everything. Y'know I always do this? I said I was going to take easy classes this quarter (apart from history) & take it easy & so forth--& then it doesn't happen. I'm limiting myself to three classes this winter. No, really. I am. (When I sign up for five in December, please lock me away for my own safety.)

...back to history. Agh.

I had a really good idea for my lit paper this morning, as I was lying in bed with my half my head thinking, the other half foggy, & my limbs unable to move. Unfortuneately I didn't, or couldn't, get up and write it down; I rolled over and went back to sleep instead, & now I'm stuck being annoyed because I can't remember what it was. C'est la vie de academie, I suppose. At least I have a thesis, which is more than I usually begin with. Wa-hey!

Last night I went to talk to Erin about Search & we ended up in the lobby (because Camille came home), sitting with Kristen, joined by Matt, joined by Andy. I think I'll have to agree with leeann_marie--if laughter is the best medicine, I'm as healthy as can be. Erin was delirious with lack of sleep, & I doubt that the boys & I were much more awake, really. We were being utterly ridiculous, looking through the Ballard Designs catalog that Erin randomly got--& called "Billiard Designs" because she was so tired. We liked every clock on every page, & so decided to have a hallway in a house with all sorts of different clocks all set to a slightly different time--all within the same fifteen or so minute period, but all vaguely different. I like this. & then Matt points to a leather chaise & says, "I want that, for when I'm a landed gentry," which led into Matt & I becoming The Duke & Duchess of East Yakima, Esq., because, as Erin eloquently pointed out, "Eastern Washington is feudalism waiting to happen!" Andy was my lover/stableboy, & the absent Andrew was Matt's turkish servant/lover, & we had great plans for raiding Harmony's costume shop for our clothing.
"We can get things from Seattle!" -"Seattle is not the far east, Sir!"
"Ah sir, the opium shipment from the far off French outpost of Coeur de Lane is here!" -"Good, the opium...I was going to look out over my cattle today, but my gout is acting up...I'll just sit here & smoke opium." -"And think of your sunny pleasure dome?" -Erin, Matt, Erin. The fact that we can still make bad literature jokes while completely delerious testifies to...well, either to our utter geekdom or the rigorous education of the honors program. Possibly both. We plan to write a novel. Also we played spin the cellphone, which turned into pass the kiss, which turned into Andy, Matt & I trying to play pass the clap (which is pointless with three people), which turned into pass the toy boat, which is Bobby's new hellish warm up. (Less than three.)

& I got a 99% on my Shakespeare paper, so I feel all glowy & happy about that. Also, Richard is a conniving, evil, clever, admirable little bastard. Really he is.

And we got the new English major curriculum & plan today, & there are so many nifty classes coming up. I am thrilled. McDowell's teaching a class on Donne next spring. I am so there.

I decided last night that I am going for three majors, five years. I couldn't come up with a good reason not to. I have the time, I have/can wrangle the money; I have my parents' support (hell, it was their idea!); I have a great desire to major in all three areas & I can't decide which to drop. Cripes. I am going to have a mad, mad three years...

About 1970 the New Critiscm came under attack by reader-response critics (who believe that the meaning of a work is not inherent in its internal form but rather is cooperatively produced by the reader and the text) and poststructuralists (who, following the philosophy of Jacques Derrida, argue that texts are inevitably self-contradictory and that we can find form in them only by ignoring or suppressing conflicting details or elements). -What is the New Historicism?

I'm beginning to feel as though I'm in a Tom Stoppard play, minus the insane characters and overarching sense of absurdist humor.


Also, I can hear bands setting up and playing bits in preparation for Quadstock, all the way across campus. The distance-distorted music reminds me of Folklife, and the harmony in dissonance that always happens in my ears there. In a week, I say--less than a week!