In the Quiet of the Railway Station

I am going to Canada tomorrow for the first time ever. I am not wrapping my head around this.

It is far too hot to sleep, so I am going to quickly summarize New York.
Thursday:
-super-awesome road tripping with Nomi, Sonia, and Rokhl. Getting lost on the BQE because it turned into some other road with no warning. Getting directions from a cab driver.
-swanky swanky dinner at Steiner Studios. Apparently they make movies there.
-15 people in an 11-passenger van, lost somewhere in Brooklyn
-tiny tiny hostel
-meeting awesome Yiddishists, and Hasidim, and ex-Hasidim, and an amazing community that almost makes me want to live in New York. But not quite.
Friday:
-bagels, taxicabs, tenements, terrifying Chinese food (and in such quantities!), the Holocaust, terrible tour guides, so so much walking, subway, challah and cake for dinner, wander a few blocks with Jonah and Sonia, beer and crosswords at Jonah's grandma's apartment until 2:30 am
Saturday:
-sleep
-Mermaid Parade (i.e. giant giant crowds and people in costumes) at Coney Island
-really good Mexican food
-wandering another neighborhood
-most mind-blowing concert I have seen in a really really long time. The acts: sweet old man from Romania with accordion, pretty decent ska band, crazy crazy performance artists who were very intimate with the audience, Golem! (sexiest klez band ever and as much as I would love them to do Debi's wedding, they are maybe too sexy for a wedding?), Extra Action Marching Band (yes, a marching band) who likes to perform in and among the audience as much as they like the stage, which means that I had a trombone over my head at some point, and I got shoved out of the way by a male cheerleader, and I might have gotten attacked by a spit valve but I hope not
Sunday:
-marching in the Gay Pride parade with Sonia and her father and their synagogue. Gays and Jews in one place! Woo!
-aching feet (see above)
-hot dog from a stand on the street
-crazy subway detours
-crazy adventures to Queens
-crazy road tripping with Nomi and almost but not quite getting lost
-sweet barbecue at a tiny roadside shack
-home and sleep in my own bed

And then I spent two days going to class and I guess we also warehoused it up for like 2 hours yesterday (it was too hot for more) and now we're going to Canada. I am so exhausted, but I can't stop. Other people are getting sick, so I try to keep my energy up to make up for that. Sonia and I are writing the intern show because we're that over-achieving. It will be amazing and full of inside jokes so you won't understand it. You can come if you want, though. Jonah and Marissa are emceeing and they are lovely people.

I am going to try sleeping. My fan is on very high and all my windows are open but that just means bugs. Send help, but not until this weekend.

Canada!

Curl Up With a Book About Organized Crime

I guess it's about time for an update. Life is proceeding apace. Naomi Seidman is my absolute hero and I cannot believe that I have spent the last week and a half listening to her lecture every single day. Sorry, all future faculty of this program, but you simply will not stack up. I want Naomi to come to Hampshire and be on my committee and keep reminding me how much I love Yiddish and everything about it. Ruth Wisse gave a lecture, too, and I know she's legendary (I mean, she pretty much singlehandedly invented the academic study of Yiddish), and I won't admit it to anyone here, but she made me feel outside the field. She gave a great lecture, but at one point, probably without even meaning it, she made an offhand complaint about how the kids who come to study Yiddish these days don't grow up in the Jewishly rich home that speakers of Yiddish did, and how Yiddish teachers want to start at a higher level, but have to go through the basics of the culture first. And I know she's the sort of person who wishes that mainstream Jewish culture was more than a handful of jokes, and I'm with her there. But something about the way that offhand comment immediately excluded non-Jews from ever "getting" Yiddish made me really disinclined to listen to the rest of her lecture, and deeply colored my feelings about her. Fortunately, I have Naomi Seidman, who's used to teaching mixed-religion classes, and has actually spent a lot of time looking at the intersection of Jewish and Christian culture. I mean, she reads Gimpl the Fool as a story about the Holy Family, and not even a necessarily negative portrayal! She's also teaching all sorts of things about the secret things Jews say about Christians, and it is fascinating. I might even tell you these secrets if you ask nicely. Speaking of which, Night in the Yiddish is a very very different and intensely more honest book. I hope to read it entirely in this form one day, and I wish there were some way of transmitting that back to non-Jewish culture. I'm still not sure how I feel about the kinds of secrets that I'm learning about, although I do understand the minority's need to protect themselves.

I had no intention of being so esoteric here, but I really am in love with Naomi Seidman and it is impossible to really transmit why. Outside of class, warehouse work is grimy and sweaty and some people take to it much better than others, but those of us who have fun with it have lots of fun because, let's face it, pallet jacks are so awesome. Our days are really full, and I am trying to keep some balance (and not spend too much money), and I think I'm managing. Rebecca, Jessica, Paul, Jason, Jeremy, Michael and I spent a lot of time playing Paper Pass (as we have dubbed it) this weekend, and it may become a fixture. I've had some amazing discussions with people about so many things, although really just Jews. I'm trying really hard to get some utterly non-Jewish things in my life for balance, and I'm kind of failing. I need to hang out with Gentiles, I think.

In spite of the longness of the days and the nightly homework, I'm getting a lot of pleasure reading done. Something about being so motivated to do so much Yiddish means I'm also motivated to do non-Yiddish things. Maybe because I have to work so hard to read things in Yiddish, so reading in English is such a relaxing break.

I think people want to watch a movie, and my laundry might be done. This was a terrible update on my life. I apologize.

Sunday 1

I love my life, by the way.

Jonah hosted an amazing Shabbat dinner Friday night (that's a redundant phrase) and I even managed to make some good tzimmes although it paled in comparison to Sonia's amazing kugel. I am making Sonia adopt me, because she is the best Jewish mother ever. There was a ton of great food (Debi makes really good challah, too) and I even made sure that Jonah made deviled eggs so it would be a real potluck (I told him that macaroni and cheese was also necessary but that didn't happen. The kugel had cream cheese in it though, so I guess that's kind of similar). It was great to have most of the internship kids around hanging out and eating, which we don't do often enough, even though we live together. And Debi tried to teach us some crazy Yiddish socialist songs, and then she taught us crazy Yiddish folk dances, which were more successful. There is something pretty amazing about doing mating dances barefoot in the grass at midnight. Especially when it's followed by a bonfire and singing (Kari needs to learn Jew songs because Christian songs aren't going to cut it this summer) and then playing in a creek. Nothing identifies city kids and country kids faster than wading across a(n ankle-deep) creek in the middle of the night and near-darkness. I'm a country kid, by the way. We even had some 1-in-the-morning-ice-cream-straight-from-the-carton (which included the brilliant "get a spoonful of ice cream and then dip it into the jar of hot fudge sauce" method, which I highly recommend for your next communal ice cream function), courtesy of Paul and Jeremy who know how to pick very good ice cream flavors and not boring chocolate/vanilla.

Other highlights of the week:
We have a theme song, and it is in Polish. But it's called "Oy Madagascar" and it is better than you can possibly imagine. Because of this song, Marissa is Jungle Jew.
Nicknames are happening! I love nicknames. Most of them involve Yiddish diminutives.
We took pictures in a tree (with a professional photographer and a bunch of Hebrew religious books that we did not treat with appropriate piety) and I hope they give us copies of a bunch of them cause I bet they're awesome.

Naomi Seidman is coming tomorrow and she is #3 on my list of Yiddishists I adore (after Max/Uriel Weinreich and Jeffrey Shandler) and I am beyond excited. I have no idea how to deal with this, granted, but I'm sure I'll be fine.

Yiddish!

Raptor Roar

I go and put lovely dry-erase boards up for all the (2) mods and then Randall Monroe has to go and do it in his new apartment but 193485934 times better. I wish I were creative.

On a happier note, all of our stuff is labeled in Yiddish. Which Randall Monroe's apartment most sorely lacks, I am sure.

Life Is Beautiful

All this rain, maybe not.

I'm moved in to Prescott 75, in a loft room (pretty much the sweetest deal ever and those of us who have them are maaaad excited) and then internet hookup is in the closet which means that computer + bed (bed being in the loft) is not quite working, but I'm managing. Computer directly underneath skylight in the loft is pretty sweet, though. Mod life is fabulous, people are wonderful.

Speaking of people, I love Internship life. We spent all day today in various lectures and classes (which is a looong day and the only time we are doing so) but it was so incredibly fascinating that I can't begin to complain. There are 3 people (including me) in the intermediate Yiddish class right now, but that might change. In any case, that is a wonderfully intimate class and I know I'm going to learn a ton, even if I'm kind of terrified right now (I cannot form a sentence in Yiddish but I do try). The professor leading the culture class this week is so knowledgeable and a very entertaining speaker, so I'm really glad I'm getting the chance to work with him. I have this opportunity to work with so many leaders of Yiddish academia this summer, and I can't believe my luck- these are the people whose books I read, and now they're here, talking to me! Aaron Lansky did a lecture on a Bashevis story and a Peretz story and I was acutely aware of how incredibly not Jewish I am and we spent a lot of time in general talking about how religion and culture weren't different things for Jews of this time period- religion wasn't thought about at all as separate from daily life- praying and hanging out with your friends and having Shabbat dinner and sleeping were all just things that you did. Of course, I still identify very much with Yiddish culture, but not in a religious sense. And I think a lot of what's important about Yiddishkeit is precisely that it's not Christian, and there's a lot of Christian influence in Judaism today (just because a lot of Christian values have shaped modern Western values) and, although no one said it in so many words today, getting into a Yiddish headspace means getting rid of Christian thinking. Which is easy to do when you point something out to a bunch of Jews as being very Christian-influenced, but not so easy for the Christian in the group. So much of what we're doing has a lot to do with one's own identity. Jewish culture is about identity. Aaron's lecture focused a lot on determining how Jewish Peretz and Bashevis are. And, no matter how much I adore Peretz and Bashevis, I don't know that I can ever judge their Jewishness. Nor will I ever read them like a Jew. We have a wide range of religious observance here (from the not-driving-on-shabbes types to the atheists), but only 2 goyim and I'm the only one who's observant. And that's going to color my treatment of Yiddish literature. And I feel the need to constantly be upfront about it, to start every sentence with "I'm a Christian, and I see this as blah blah blah" or "I'm not Jewish, but I think yadda yadda." And I don't know if that's good or bad. I don't know if it's just my attempt to maintain an identity while being a minority, or to admit that I am woefully ignorant of so many basic Jewish things (although I'm learning and I know more than some) or what, but I feel like it's going to be crucial to my Yiddish career.

I Got You Flours

Every now and then I get into a literary mood and start narrating myself into the next great American novel, except that I never get farther than 2 or 3 paragraphs before I'm so distracted by my own habit of narrating that I descend into some sort of meta-meta-meta-meta analysis of my own brain and eventually stop because meta-meta-meta analysis is terribly depressing. Also, I write depressing stories because I hate happy endings, or I'm a sadist, or a masochist, or something. Anyway, when I'm at Hampshire and I fall into such a literary mood, and I'm able to be alone (which is essential for the Literary), I go and buy a vegan cookie and hole up somewhere to dramatize my life.

The first time I had a vegan cookie, I bought it as a snack before I got on a train because it was early and I was leaving Hampshire and I needed a snack. I was on my way to Thanksgiving and long train rides pretty much require you to be super-introspective plus I can write and not get sick (unlike in cars). So I wrote about my life and I nibbled on my vegan cookie and a firm association was made in my mind.

Another time, I was early for my Jew class and I bought a vegan cookie and sat in the airport lounge and started working on notes for my Roth-Comeau essay and I felt like I was capturing the picture-perfect college experience that I never live except for that half hour.

And tonight I watched Stranger Than Fiction and the girl in it is a baker and a radical and I really wanted her to bake vegan cookies because vegan cookies mean books and it's a movie about books and numbers and public transportation and if it had vegan cookies I would have known that it was My Movie but it didn't so I guess that's a disappointment.

I really really really want a vegan chocolate chip cookie.


P.S. I have a favorite story in the whole wide world and I am going to tell it to you now. By which I mean S Anski is going to tell you cause it's his story.
At the edge of the world stands a tall mountain, and on the mountain lies a great rock, and from the rock flows a clear spring. And at the other edge of the world, there is the heart of the world; for each thing in the world has a heart and the world as a whole has a great heart of its own. And the heart of the world gazes always at the clear spring and cannot have its fill of looking; and it longs and yearns and thirsts for the clear spring, but it cannot take ever the slightest step towards it. For as soon as the heart of the world stirs from its place, it loses sight of the mountain top with the clear spring; and if the heart of the world cannot see the clear spring even for a single instant, it loses its life. And at that very moment the world begins to die. And the clear spring has no time of its own, and it lives with the time that the heart of the world grants it. And the heart grants it only one day. And when the day wanes, the clear spring begins to sing to the heart of the world. And the heart of the world sings to the clear spring. And their singing spreads over the world and from it issue gleaming threads that reach to the hearts of all things in the world and from one heart to another. And there is a man of righteousness and grace who walks about over the world and gathers the gleaming threads from the hearts and out of them weaves time. And when he weaves an entire day, he gives it to the heart of the world, and the heart of the world gives it to the clear spring. And the spring lives yet another day.

My Other Pro-Tolerance Message Is Also Condescending

I'm working on my last final paper now, the piece de resistance, the crown jewel of my Div I, the paper that's been floating in the back of my mind for weeks and weeks and yet couldn't seem to get written until today, the day that it is due (at Letterman's monologue, by the way, so I've got plenty of time). And I slept with the window open because it was so warm, which meant that the sound of buses awoke me by 7:30. And now, 1 hour later, I have an opening paragraph written. The hard part. Once I get into the rhythm, establish a structure and a place to go, I'll crank out a page every 20 minutes. I plan on giving you updates throughout the day, because maybe you're really bored. Right now, I'm hungry, but I don't know if SAGA's open. I've never had a reason to eat this early. I'm trying to figure out what the Queer Canadian Diaspora is, if it exists. I'll let you know how that goes.

Shortly after 9 am, paragraph 2 is done. I keep writing about things that aren't what I took my notes on. This happens every time. It's raining.

9:20 am: Paragraph 3 down, halfway through the 3rd page. Rain has let up. Still hungry, I'm finally in a place where I feel comfortable in this paper. Buses are very noisy outside, but I need the window open.

9:55 am: I'm onto the 5th page now. As usual, I'm using too many block quotes (2 so far, one from each book), but I feel like the material speaks really well for itself. Besides, my professor hasn't read the main work I'm dealing with, so he needs some context. The block quotes aren't just for length. I'm going to put some sort of clothing on and go eat something so I don't die.

10:28 am: Blood sugar momentarily restored, concentration utterly lost. Fair trade?

11:07 am: Having finally forced myself to continue writing a few minutes ago, I have now completed page 5. The cloud-filtered sunlight makes everything look really really green outside. Or maybe it's because it's so wet. In any case, it's gorgeous.

11:28: 6 and a half pages. Katie is awake.

11:50: I'm to the eighth page. Word is momentarily freaking out. The essay is starting to get really explicit, because it's Philip Roth and Joey Comeau and neither one is the kind of person to use G-rated vocabulary. We're sliding toward NC-17 here, as a matter of fact.

12:08: Page 8 is finished, and I am well into threesome territory. How on earth did I get so lucky to be at a school where the culmination of my first year is comparing two books based on the fact that they climax (pun only sort of intended) with a triumvirate? I love my life.

12:35: Almost done with the 10th page, putting off lunch until I reach a stopping point. The things I am writing in this paper shock me. It's fun.

12:45: At the top of the 11th page, I'm sliding into my conclusion. I am so hungry. I want to stop, but I'll never finish if I do. Gaaaaaah.

12:59: The 11th page is full and I haven't finished this thing yet. I had planned on 8-10 pages. This is what block quotes do to you.

1:06: At 12.5 pages, I stop. The ending is trite and I don't care because I'm hungry and maybe someone will help me edit it so that it's better. I am going to eat.

I Feel So Accomplished

What I have done today:
-put 2 Bookmooch books in the mail, and received 1 Bookmooch book
-picked up and filled out time cards for the entire semester (I have worked almost 100 hours, which means I have a very nice big check coming at long last)
-joined the Communist Party of the United States of America and paid my $12 for the first years' dues. Now the communist party card that I carry in my wallet is completely legit, and will soon be replaced by an official one from the real party. I am beyond proud of myself.

Also I lay under a tree for a while and I plan on getting laundry done. Maybe I'll even work on the paper I have due Wednesday, but I don't know.

I like finals week.

A Strange Education

Sometimes I really really love my friends. Today represents some of the best as Saturdays go, and yesterday was definitely the cutest day I've ever known, so life is good.

Let's see... woke up early Friday morning to stare at the sunshine and eat breakfast for the first time in weeks, nay months, and then I went to my very very last theater design class. Where we cuddled on the couch, as has become our habit. Those of you who have known me for a while (I'm looking at you, TUMC) know that I am always a fan of 5 or 6 or more people on a couch, so having a class in a room with 2 couches and 11 people is one of the main reasons I love my school. Class ends at 11:50, and it was close to 1 by the time the last of us left the room, such was our cuddling. We ate some lunch and then me and Emma and Rachel went to sit under a dogwood tree and tell each other stories and enjoy the sunshine and warmth and flower petals. It feels so good to sit under a tree in the sun, especially after such a long winter.
I had my very very last probability class at 2:30, and we had pizza and giant cookies with special messages on them, and Kelly came back for the first time since he broke his hip, which made us all so happy. I adore the math department at this school- Ken and Kelly are such funny guys and so full of stories and so passionate and I want to talk about numbers with them forever. I wish I felt this way about the linguistics department. I mean, the linguistics profs are nice enough people, but I don't feel like I really connect with them, or particularly want to connect with them, and they certainly aren't offering any classes that I am remotely interested in. Forget the whining, though, this is about how life is amazing and I adore my friends. I colored pretty pictures in math class because Shannon and Brad were good at figuring out how to make 2 congruent figures out of a single non-symmetrical shape via 1 curve, or at least good at copying from other people, and so I could copy from them and then color the shapes all pretty. Brad had glitter glue in his mohawk, which is pretty much the best thing ever, except that it was this weird "cut out appropriation" day where there was some protest about how appropriating hairstyles like mohawks and dreads is racist, except I think there was also some event going on where you could get a free mohawk? I don't really understand it, nor am I sure how to think about it (I mean, on one hand, I don't want to be insensitive to other cultures, but, on the other hand, it's just a hairstyle)... Noah got himself one of the free 'hawks, and I haven't actually seen it spiked up yet, but I hear that it's pretty exciting. After math, there was some more relaxing and some dinner and Katie and I finally caught up on Ugly Betty (we were 4 weeks behind) and went to the last improv show of the semester (and 4 of the Sluts are leaving, which is so sad) and it was as hilarious as always, and then came more Ugly Betty and the Office and it was a nice night.

But today. Oh my goodness. We had a huge long list of things we wanted to do, and managed about half of them. Katie had to work til 1, and we don't start early anyway, so Sarah and I decided to meet up at Pirates of Penzance and work things out. So, first things first: Pirates of Penzance. Hampshire Musical Theater Collective, you make me a happy girl. Please never stop doing musicals because you are amazing. It was hilarious and wonderful and pirates are great and musicals are great and there are some talented people at this school. From Pirates, Sarah-Megen-Katie-Joanna-me walked back toward the Jew House (running into Emma on the way and promising her a hair dye party that did not happen tonight) and found Sarah's debit card (Katie found it) and Noah and Gideon appeared and we headed off to Amherst, where there was a random book sale going on, and the local comic book shop was not doing Free Comic Book Day (disappointing) and I found out that a "yaaaay" is worth 1/4 of a hug and Judie's had a really long wait so we went to the Amherst Brewing Company for dinner and they sat us immediately. I don't think our seating arrangement was socially optimal, but I guess it worked out okay. I had some pretty good Wurst, though I'm not sure I like ale-roasting or -frying or whatever they did. I like Wurst and Bier, but not necessarily Wurst that taste like Bier. But they were satisfying, and I think everyone had really delicious food, so we were quite happy as we headed off toward the mall for laser tag. It was the 7 of us (although Noah was magically replaced by Gideon's girlfriend) and these 4 random kids who clearly play a lot of laser tag, and it was mostly 2 random kids + 3 or 4 of us on a team, then we went girls v. boys in the final game- i.e. the 4 random kids and Gideon v. the rest of us. The boys beat us like 61 to 30 (the other games were like 40-20, 22-23, and 27-33 or something), but it was SO much fun and we decided that we should buy home laser tag sets and play on campus. So off to Target, where we quickly realized that laser tag sets cost like $30 for 2 guns and a vest, and so we abandoned the idea. Instead, we bought movie snacks and went to the theater to catch Spiderman 3. It was the most wonderfully emo action movie ever, and it made me very happy, although the people sitting behind us made me happier. They laughed at all the right things (like Peter Parker sobbing) and made amazing comments and I want to hang out with them every day. Unfortunately, we did not meet them, but I hope they liked us, too, because Joanna made some nice comments and we were laughing too and I want to be one of the cool kids. The movie lasted forever, as we realized when we got out and it was 12:50 (the movie started at 10:15), so we blasted Disney songs on the ride home and I am waiting for the sugar buzz of my candy to wear off so I can sleep.
Why does the semester have to be ending? Why do we all have to go away for summer?

I Want My Film to Be Beautiful, Not Realistic

Oh my goodness so much has happened in the past month ahh. How have you been? Are you enjoying the springtime? I am trying, but, every time it's sunny outside, I have all this homework. Then, on the days when I am burnt-out and want to go sit in the sunshine, it rains. Anyway!
I went to New York yesterday. Road trips are CRAZY. Especially when your map doesn't make sense and everyone has a different idea of how fast you should be going and driving in New York is so confusing. I was in Scottie's car, in the lead, (Scottie brought juice boxes and muffins, by the way) and I commend Katie so much for managing to follow us the entire time, and we worked hard to not lose Sharon, but she gave up on us once we got into the city.
We made it there alive, though, and even managed to get all 3 cars to the same place! Then we all split off to eat some food, and Michael was like "guys we have to find this really seedy looking Chinese place where the food's really good and really cheap." So Ted, Katie, Michael and I went off in search of said Chinese place, of which there must have been 128974578943 in 3 blocks (since we were in Chinatown), so we started to check a few out, and settled on one where the menu actually had English on it. Turns out that English on the menu doesn't mean the waitress knows English, so Katie the Vegetarian is sitting there trying to ask for noodles and vegetables, and the waitress gets all confused, and walks away to call someone on the phone. At this point, Ted is like "Katie, you have committed the gravest sin ever. You are going to get killed." Instead, the waitress walks back over and hands the phone to Katie, and we figure out that the person on the other end of the line is supposed to be translating. Except that no one can hear each other. Fortunately, the guy at the other table totally spoke English (and Chinese), and he translated for us. And we got some food. And you know what? It was totally delicious and so so cheap. 4 of us ate so much food for $15 total. And Michael found a duck foot in his soup, so that was pretty awesome, too.
We went to a bakery afterwards and bought delicious things and Michael got this giant Chocolate Roll (which he kept accidentally calling a "chocorate roll" but I assured him that it is very common to transpose similar sounds when they are next to each other, and that he is not a secret racist) and decided that, instead of sharing the chocolate roll with us, he was going to save it and share it with a Girl. Unfortunately, said Girl is vegan, so maybe that will not work out so well for him.
Anyway, our other shopping adventure involved going to Papito Grocery, where I bought the best soda ever for 50 cents. It was so good, I swear. Like orange soda mixed with cream soda and named "fruit champagne" and Katie told me that it is like THE soda in Haiti, which I guess is cool.
Then came the part of the evening where we did the show, which means that I was kind of running around trying to do all the things that are supposed to get done, and we had no dresser, so costumes were that much harder to change (I guess it worked okay?) but the audience seemed to enjoy it, so things were good. The theater was the hottest place I have ever been, and I am usually wearing about 3 layers of things when I am costumed, so that was not pleasant, but I survived.
We wanted to drive back that night as well, so I hopped in Katie's car and we proceeded to get incredibly lost trying to get out of the city. Even though Dorothy had given us directions, and we had followed them as closely as we could (I guess we are bad at that?). Eventually, after driving through a Hasidic neighborhood (which was so very very exciting and we all had our noses glued to the windows because those people are FASCINATING), we pulled off on some random place and Ted got out to ask directions. From the car window, we saw him walk up to the first girl he saw, and she stood there twirling her hair at him and occasionally waving an arm in the direction she thought we should go, and then Ted thanked her, and she walked away, and he turned and walked up the street for a second opinion. And disappeared for a while. Finally, he comes back to the car, bearing a piece of the best pizza I have ever had. Apparently, he found Joe's Pizza Place (seriously it was so good), and asked Joe, the most Italian guy ever, how to get to the interstate, and then he bought a slice of pizza. And Joe gave amazingly colorful directions and we did indeed make it back to 95, much to our joy.
The rest of the trip was relatively smooth, and we got in before 2, where I was amazed to discover that people were all still awake and hanging out, since I felt like it was the dead of night, but then I remembered that Hampshire stays awake on Saturday nights. I slept the sleep of the dead, though, because I was exhausted.

Now, I have to convince myself to finish this lighting design for theater, and do my math homework, and settle on a topic for my child language paper, and work a bit on my Jew paper. I'm not a fan of finals season.

Every Other Memory

NOLA

The first half of New Orleans pictures. Uncaptioned as yet, but I'll work on it. By which I mean that I hope people will leave entertaining comments on Facebook, and I'll use them as captions.

EDIT: Mostly captioned! Feel free to ask about anything that looks interesting and I will do my best to provide awesome stories!

I Want To Pay Some Other Girl To Just Walk Up and Hit Her

Boston-Mary!

So Mary came to visit me and she took a bunch of pictures so I have stolen a few for your pleasure. If I ever finish my homework, I'll upload some New Orleans things for you, of which I have a whole whole lot, but they all have to be scanned first.

The Female of the Species

New Orleans was mind-blowingly amazing. There are about 3 rolls' worth of pictures that we are in the process of getting developed (yes, we did things the old-fashioned disposable camera way) and I will scan and upload them when they come in. Once that happens, I will be better able to tell you the 263498 stories that I have.

Mary's here visiting this week, which is pretty much the best thing ever. She's sleeping on an air mattress on my floor (i.e. taking up all the floor space in my room and making it impossible to walk- the mattress gets picked up the moment she awakens), sometimes going to my classes, sometimes going to Katie's, sometimes hanging out, taking many many trips to Northampton, and Katie is being so so wonderful and taking Mary to all sorts of other places while I go to my 189457 classes and other Things That I Do. I used to be booked solid from 10:30-5:30 every day- that's starting to become more like 10-midnight, and I'm cool with it cause it's (mostly) fun stuff. The Girl Who Fell Through A Hole In Her Sweater (the play I'm sound designing, non-hip-and-with-it kids) opens April 9, so this week is the last push for us designers to get everything done... I got cast yesterday in another play, Yackagdayou, Brateslayou (And Other Such Nonsense), which is about the most awesome group of old people ever- they've been friends since their childhood camp days, and they're these really radical communist types (but weren't ever really involved in the Party) and their stories are so amazing and we're trying our best to do them justice. I'm doing double duty as Elly and Ellie- I had a meeting with Ted (who is playing my husband Davie) yesterday and we called the real Elly and Davie to talk to them- they are hilarious and wonderful and amazing and have the most fun relationship and I am very excited to be portraying them. We're doing a read-through tonight, so that should be great fun.
In non-theater news, life is great, math is fun, linguistics class is not, Jew class is the best ever and I'm already trying to plan my final paper around how this guy is the queer Philip Roth, circa 1958. Because Jews=queers, as I explained in my Yiddish Lit final paper. I keep meaning to write about other things, but I can't avoid it.

So I'm Off

I'm heading over to Katie's house now, so that we can get to Hartford tomorrow morning, from whence I will be flying to New Orleans. Pray that the weather continues to cooperate- a bunch of people have had flights canceled thanks to this blizzard, but things should be clear enough for tomorrow. I'll be in New Orleans all week, coming back on Saturday, spending Sat night at Katie's, and picking Mary up from the airport on Sunday the 25th so that even more exciting adventures may ensue. If you need me this coming week, call me, as my darling Clara is staying here to cure AIDS and muscular dystrophy via World Community Grid- your computer can save the world in its spare time, too, so you should join.

I haven't really eaten today because SAGA's closed for spring break, so I'm going to figure out where my comrade's padre is so we can get some dinner. See you in a week!

It's a Good Thing

I'm glad I'm getting out of here on Sunday, and that my flight's not tomorrow. This was taken from my window just now. You can't quite tell how heavy the snow is in this picture, but I will tell you that there was none on the ground at 11:00 this morning, and so, in 6 hours, we have a few solid inches out there. There is a road right in front of that line of trees. You can't see it anymore.

Sickness= More Blogging?

Probably.

I had the most amazing dream this afternoon while napping, one that I'm still convinced is true.
Every now and then I dream of flying. I wish it weren't so cliche, but there it is. And flying in my dreams is the most perfectly natural act. It's like swimming, really. You push off from the ground, start pulling yourself into the air with your arms. Once you get as high as you want, you can tread the air to stay there- just the lightest of movements keeps you afloat. Movement across the air is as simple as movement across a pool. In the air, everyone is graceful and life feels effortless.

I have these dreams very occasionally. Maybe 3 times in my life. But I remember them. Remember them well.

This one took place at Hampshire, in the springtime. Everything was green and the sun was warm. There had just been a great rain, and there was a giant puddle in a field behind EDH, much as there were giant puddles in my way the last time I walked over there (was it just last Friday?). I had left my bag in my class, started to leave with nothing, as I frequently do in dreams. I noticed, however, and returned to retrieve it. Whoever had closed the class had been kind enough to hang my bag on a hook outside the door, and I took it and exited again. Outside, I saw a group of friends, standing on the other side of the deep puddle-marsh. They waved to me, and I to them, and they beckoned me to join. I had no wish to tread across the deep water, however, and so I handed my bag to someone who was sitting nearby, and took flight. Taking to the sky was the sort of act that's remembered, a trick from earlier in life that makes things easier, but is somehow rarely used. Once I landed, those around me were summarily impressed- they had not ever seen anyone fly. I explained that it is not something everyone can do, but then someone in the group bounced into the air, and then another, and soon a good 3/4 of us were soaring and playing, amazed that Hampshire had managed to bring together exactly the sorts of people who were innately able to fly. I remembered my forgotten bag, flew back to retrieve it, and the dream ended.


When I awoke, I could barely breathe and I was racked with coughing. It was well below freezing outside, and had gotten dark.


I'm still pretty sure I can fly.

This is what I've written on my wall recently. Just to give you a sense of where my head is. That's Pascal's triangle, calculated to the 21st row by hand, and 2 Philip Roth quotes, one written left-to-right and the other right-to-left. Because right-to-left felt more natural to me today.

That is all.

Children!

Children!

So on that Friday that I went on the Salem Adventure of Doom, in the morning before the SAoD, my theater design class went to visit some children and milk them of ideas so that we can design an awesome kids' play. And I know my mother loves pictures of children, so these are for you, Mom.

In other news, I am curled up in my death bed with the bird flu. Okay, not that extreme, but I had a crazy fever (and awesome fever dreams) last night, and I've been trying my hardest to cough up a lung today. Good thing Katie brings me orange juice and pizza and quesadillas (and good thing Heather is here with her car to drive Katie to get me these things) or I would be dead for real. Maybe I'll manage to go to class and work tomorrow, maybe not. I have at least written and submitted (via e-mail) the paper due in said class tomorrow, so I am Ahead. I hope.

Wait- what?

First, pictures from this lovely crazy weekend:

Salem Adventure of Doom and the Oscars

If you really insist, I have a long and crazy story to tell. I've told it many a time. It's best when Sarah and I tell it in tandem. It's probably even better (and highly inappropriate) when Joanna is added to that mix. I do plan on captioning those photos sometime, but today is Monday, which means I had yoga at 8:30, ate breakfast, went to Theater, ate lunch, walked so so far to student employment only to discover that it wasn't 1 yet so they weren't open (meaning I get to go again Wednesday- joy), sat in my room for 45 minutes and stared at the wall because I can't do much more, went to class at 2:30, got out of class at 5:45 (that's 25 minutes after I should), ate dinner, thought I was going to Yiddish but actually went to an audition (so I guess I'm in a play now since I have such an abundance of time? It's an awesome play about Yiddish though so I can't complain) and then Yiddish lasted until 9:30 (it was mostly stories and not language but they were awesome stories) (also I think I might go to Siberia this August) and now I am finally done with my day. So I'm going to make a big diagram of Pascal's triangle on my wall because it soothes me and I'm going to need soothing in the coming months.

UPDATE 10:45: captions done!

Whoa

On a whim, I'm sitting in a swankier-than-expected hotel in Salem, Massachusetts after the most eventful car ride possible. I've never been happier to see an interstate. I'm surprised how much I associate 95 with home. Salem is the cutest town ever, and we are beyond excited. There will be lots of pictures, I promise.