kerouac says

jill dolan has a blog.

this is like if frances macdormand starred in a willa cather biopic fantasia directed by wes anderson. i'm wetting the couch.

i'm not applying at austin because the monkey will not move to texas, but make no mistake: this is hero stuff. this is the stuff that makes me want to do the stuff.

she writes a blog.

thanks, professor dolan.

word for word, an email from Nosestrip/Big Fire regarding my work in our performance composition class today:

I learned many from your work.
You have what I do not have.
Releasing normality to take passionate power is worth.
Thanks


what a nice guy.

Anne Bogart & SITI Company Update
for November 20, 2006


Conversations With Anne welcomes Viewpoints innovator Mary Overlie on Monday Nov 27th

Conversations with Anne is a series of events that provide a forum for leading artists to discuss and exchange ideas about their creative process with Anne Bogart. Past guests have included Peter Sellars, Paula Vogel, Julie Taymor, Bill T. Jones, Ben Cameron, Tina Landau, Oskar Eustis, Robert Woodruff and Molly Smith.

"Mary Overlie is a remarkable innovator. She single-handedly dreamt up The Six Viewpoints. In doing so, her work changed the landscape of the American theater. Emerging from the post-modern dance world, and inspired by the Judson Church movement, her ideas were immediately accessible to actors and actor training.” – Anne Bogart

WHEN: Monday, November 27, 2006 at 7 pm



this landed simultaneously in the best one's mailbox and my own.

these people have no idea what they're dealing with.

when the best one and i were just baby friends, we took a workshop together with mary overlie. it was one of the strangest episodes of my life. there was this one point when she gathered us for a short lecture, and we all sat down with our notebooks, and she:


proceeded to not talk. thirty seconds went by, and then a minute. two. longer. pretty soon it is like five minutes, and everyone is just sitting there, and i think i am the only one who is freaking the fuck out wondering if she is having some kind of stroke because the silence is so total, she is not saying anything and we are not saying anything and i can only think of this friend of mine who watched his mother in law choke almost to death on a grain of rice because they were in a public place and he didn't want to make a scene by giving her the heimlich. he said, i will never scruple again; it is worth looking like a fool to save someone's life. and so i wanted to intervene, but the social pressure to match the herd was too strong. i was convinced mary overlie was dying and i would be culpable.

and then, after like seven and a half years, she cleared her throat. "thank you," she said. "i'd like to thank you for giving me that time, for understanding and staying silent, patient."

mother of god.


performance workshops can be strange in many ways, but that one takes the cake. i'm not even telling you about the lozenge and weird spastic child thing she does with her arm.

the other thing was that she was WAY bitter about anne bogart. WAY. if i weren't under fourteen guns in terms of deadlines, i'd want a front row seat at this showdown.

i was so excited about twin pleasures becoming one?

i was wrong. they don't combine to make Fun, they combine to make crack. i cannot stop. i search obsessively. and i do not have time to be doing this. two 20 page papers due in mid december and graduate school applications for which i must have a stellar statement of purpose (which, as its being described to me, is basically a dissertation abstract, which might normally take me months to get straight) and a writing sample that is one of those mid december papers because i have no other samples longer than seven pages except for the undergraduate thesis which failed to get me into PhD programs last year.

the answer is not to freak out, the answer is to continue calmly placing one foot in front of the other. but yikes. as if this weren't enough, i'm hitting a serious stretch of dunce-cap wearing. class discussion does not make sense to me. it's like that scene (no spoiler) in six feet under when nate gets too high and everyone else's talking turns to gibberish and, anguished, he belts out I can't understand what you're saying!

i'm not an actual dunce, but my big fear is that i can't play this game well enough, or speak the language with enough fluency to fool people. it is possible that everyone else is thinking the same thing, and this has been pointed out to me, but that doesn't really assuage my terror that i have given my all to career #2 only to eat mud puddle in the academic rat race.

so last night as i basted in my worry and ate hershey's kisses and trolled the internet like a nocturnal beastie with OCD while trying not to think of my non-existent thesis on queer relationality, i thought: five more years of this, huh?

i am no fan of anti-choice democrats, but: rick santorum, not even the image of that crying child behind you on the podium can stop me from thinking fuck you every time you open your fucking mouth. get the fuck. out.

the most disturbing word i have come across in my research thus far:


teledildonics.






it's exactly what you think it is.