Today is a much better day than yesterday by leaps and bounds.

Yesterday I saw the play Fat Pig by Neil LaBute. It made me mad, angry, and upset. I will probably post more about this at a later date when writing about it doesn't make me lose my current blissfully joyful mood.

Today I have received tons of compliments, emails from long-lost friends and brothers, spoke on the phone with Tom Hulce (you may remember him from such movies as... oh... hrmm... Amadeus.) and Rosemary Harris (sometimes known as Aunt May). I have to go shopping for a fancy dress and shoes this weekend because I'm going to be a volunteer at a very important and VIP filled Drama League benefit/event on Monday. And, best of all, while formatting a document (which is actually rather soothing and nice to do... even when said document is over 400 pages long and I have to hit delete every 3 lines to remove odd spacings) I've been listening to my all time favorite, This American Life. So far... I'm on my third episode. Love 'em.

Now, I share with you both why I love my brother Alex, and why I love Iron Chef. Alex sends me an email in which he does the normal response/hows-it-going chit-chat and then... BAM!

"Haturi-son, it looks like the Iron Chef is making a salmon roe sorbet, which he says, will be garnished with frizzled leeks and a tiny human fetus!" flaky japanese actress: "oh, I've never had that before!" Chairman Kaga : "Oh, they're delicious!"

Then... Alex goes on to talk about how annoying it is to listen to music (I believe he said "Algerian Rai music") when it's catchy, but impossible to sing along with... Which is how I feel when listening to my crazy bollywood soundtracks, or the soundtrack to Frida. I just end up wailing "aaaaaiiiiii ja ma ku gaahh... en quaaaail ya!" Which makes no sense to me whatsoever.

So, anyway, his fabulous email made me laugh out loud, but now I must get back to why I'm really staying in my office late, to listen to TAL and format documents.

Caffeine is rushing through my system and making me antsy. That, and my friend from high school, whom I haven't seen in seven years or so, is coming to Princeton tonight to catch Secret in the Wings. We were gonna meet for coffee tomorrow afternoon, but evidently its going to snow and everyone is panicked, so we moved it up a day. Derek is just one of those people who I have always considered a friend, even through we go practically a decade without talking. I wonder if the feeling is ever mutual.

I had a dream last night that was full of all these famous people (who I can't remember anymore, except for Gale Harold from Queer as Folk) walking around in their underwear. And not sexy underwear. Everyone was just wearing whitey tighties. It was weird, but so normal. I told them all that I was going to write that I saw them in their underwear on my blog. Then I went looking for my fuzzy yellow bra (which is a bra I have yet to ever see, much less own) and woke up. Since I told everyone I'd post the encounter in my blog, I'm doing just that.

Whee! Caffeine!

Who needs letters to Santa when Christopher Walken lives and breathes?

So... this website made me laugh so hard I about died. Also, I sent to owner of the site a letter praising his genius. GO! go now... go now and read my children. READ!

Then, when you are done reading, spend some time exploring this site. And you two may find gems that freak both you and the web-host-person out... as this did me.

There is so much to explore. So much to laugh at, be scared by and just live in awe over. I cannot recommend you avoid it any longer.

It makes no sense! Why is my camera travelling away from me? I have been tracking my new digital camera through FedEx. It started in Youngwood, PA and went west to Grove City, OH. WEST?! I am east... east you silly fedex man. My camera needs to come in an easterly direction! Gah. No wonder its going to take 6-8 business days. They don't know east from west.

I did it. I sent off a cover letter and resume to Playwrights Horizons to apply for their Directing Internship. Another internship you might say... Ahhh, but this one is in New York City. It pays a bit more, and its a step up from where I am. It also happens to be the theater that created Floyd Collins, Sunday in the Park with George, Spitfire Grill, Driving Miss Daisey and many other amazing pieces. Of course I want to work there!

But that's not all I've done. Yesterday, I sent a letter of inquiry and resume to The Goodman in Chicago. And I'm not done. I'm going to keep finding theaters I'm interested in and sending them letters. As my friend Liz asked, "What's the worse thing that happens? They ignore you." I'm all a tingling with excitement and joy, joy and excitement, excitement and joy. I'm also getting ready to go see the best show in the world once again. mm... Secret in the Wings... mm.

Last night was opening night, and I got all nervous at the after party. Terrified to go up and talk to any of the cast. Eventually, I did chat for a bit with Ray and Anne. Such truly sweet, talented, intelligent and nice people. Oooh! Interesting side note, and another person I was too terrified to go say anything to, Peter Dinklage was at the show and party last night as well. He has the sexiest voice. For those of you who don't know who Peter Dinklage is, go watch the movie The Station Agent. Not only is he sexy and amazing in it, but its a brilliant little movie.

Oooooh! AND I bought a digital camera that should be here by next Friday. I can hardly wait. It's so teeny and tiny and cute and sexy and perfect, I'm in absolute love.

Mary Zimmerman had a "brownbag lunch" with the staff today. She answered questions, explained how she works and was just basically amazing. I even asked my question that I'd agonized over. I simply wanted to know if she writes down her dreams. And she does. Which, for some reason made me happier than anything anyone has said in months.

After most people leave, a few of us are still gathered closer around her, just asking more questions and I was able to ask her about the Performance Studies program. She said its been slowly shifting its focus to a more anthropological based study. It makes me pause, a bit, thinking about that. What I want is to really learn to put my dreams on stage. (Whether those include my literal, personal dreams... or the dreams that come as I read a story, or experience a journey through song... or whatever) For it seems to me, that's really what Secret in the Wings is... it is a dream brought to life on stage and shared with an audience. A collective, public dream. And so, I have to ask myself (and probably the department as well) is this something I can get out of the performance studies graduate program? My gut says yes. My gut tells me that I would get out of that program whatever I put into it.

All this means, that if I really want to go to Northwestern starting Fall of 2006. I need to produce a piece of critical writing. Since I'm so in love with Secret, its playing here for a full six weeks, I have access to the script... I think I may try writing something on this play itself. Possibly analyzing the elements of the stories which address initiation/coming-of-age in adolescent girls. Oooh, there's also a play of JM Barrie's I just read, Dear Brutus, that has a daughter talking to her father... they both continually refer to how when she puts her hair up, their relationship will be different. Hrmm... oooh! Brain now working... this is very exciting.

So, I'm going to see the show as many times as possible. Take notes, go in beforehand with whatever the previous viewing prompted as questions, take more notes. Eeee! Life is good and exciting. I'm giddy. I haven't been giddy like this in a while. Could also be the double-soy-latte I just finished.

Secret in the Wings is the most beautiful show I have ever seen. Fairy tales, imagination games, scary basement, dreams, fears, haunting music, snakes, ships, forests, mean girls, favorite brothers, hearts floating above a head... The best part is... Its playing in my theater until February 13th!

Seriously, I think this is the kind of theater I've dreamed about, but never witnessed. It was created by Mary Zimmerman. She's the writer/director. And until last night, I didn't think a writer should direct their own theater. But her process is different. I'm told she creates the text in rehearsal. So, the rigidity that I have found in the past with authors directing a work that's been in their head for years, simply wasn't there. Where does this lead me? Ms. Zimmerman is a teacher in the Performance Studies department at Northwestern. Northwestern also has an MFA Directing program, which I've been looking at applying for Fall 2006. But now, I've witnessed what could be the most thrilling theater of my life created by a woman without an MFA. No, she has an MA/PhD. What's scary is that its so tempting: To bury myself in a program that involves analysis, critical writing, dissertations AND creating theater. I know I'm smart enough. I know I could do it. I also know it would be incredibly difficult. I ask myself, what on earth would I research? What aspect of performance interests me? Oh, and in order to get a PhD I'd have to be able to read and write another language. Good thing I've been studying my french lessons the last few months.

Then, I'm also looking at another internship. This one at the Playwrights Horizons in NYC. All they want is a coverletter and resume. If they are interested, then there's a face-to-face interview. This is the theater that created my two favorite musicals of all time: Sondheim's Sunday in the Park with George and Adam Guetel's Floyd Collins. They also created Driving Miss Daisy and many many many others.

So, if all goes right in my world for the next few years as of what I want this second... next year I will be at Playwrights Horizons, the year after that I will start graduate school at Northwestern (which program... still not sure).