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tuesday, september 23, 1997, 03:53

"Yikes," he said with a start. "Is it tuesday already?"

I started writing soemthing on sunday but got sidetracked. I started thinking about writing yesterday, but realized that i had to do my school work (funny that). It's just that there are so many other things that are going on these days.

So much confusion. So much work. So little sleep. Already a month into school I'm falling behind. I think i can catch up though. I'm pretty sure.

Had one of the most enjoyable weekends of my brown career thus far. On saturday night, after the production (which, incidentally, opened on friday and just closed tonight), went to the cast party. Now, there were a few really interesting things to note about this party. First of all, it turned out to be pretty exclusively a cast/friends party, rather than a "let's get the entire theatre community together at a party where most people are either being snooty and pretentious, or are the people that hate them.

No. We had none of that. It was also just a really fun group of people. So, between those two factors, I really had a good time. In fact, people who don't know me better, who have never seen me at parties might actually be inclined to believe that ] ... sleep time

So at that point i fell asleep. That was pretty silly.

wednesday, september 24, 1997, 00:42

I'm just a big slacker. That's all there is to it. Sitting here in the lab. I should be working on my project (that i already had to turn in late), but i'm really not in the mood for it right now.

so i'll do some writing.

Let's see. That party. So much fun. Sooooo much. Probably had something to do with massive amounts of caffeine and sugar and relatively little sleep. That, and the whole "fun people" thing.

Dragging away to food. Be back.

Back, about 20 minutes later. and oh is life confusing. But right. That party. I keep coming back to that? Why? Because it's been the highlight of the semester so far. Boy, that's really pathetic. The bulk of my semester being summed up in one evening that didn't end in a drunken theatre orgy.

what a let down.

Other than that, there's really nothing going on in my head right now. Really strange, really. I'm sitting here, and there is nothing in my brain. Maybe i'll have something more later on.

Maybe not.

*sigh*

wednesday, september 26, 1997, 03:39

You know, I think i lost another weeks worth of writing in there somewhere. Hopefully we can restore them off of backups. Oh, right. If anyone has any kickass backup software for linux, let me know.

Spent the night in my favorite place in the world. No, not the lab, which would have been very exciting indeed. No, I spent it in pw. Mmmm... theatre. Love that space as my own. And I really feel that it is my own theatre. Even more so, I feel that it's everyone's theatre, which is what made tonight so damn cool. Bands from out of town. People who normally don't venture into our space. A whole different attitude than the normal theatrey things that go up.

So nice. Hope this becomes part of our normal season.

'course i really didn't like the music too much. Not that i disliked it. it just really wasn't my thing. but the fact that it happened. and that people enjoyed it. and that nothing got broken. and that everything was under control.

magic.

other types of magic. or so i thought. walking home from the lab last night at 3am, noticing two dark figures crouching down on the sidewalk, doing... something. painting. no, not painting. stenciling. a figure. on the sidewalk.

how peculiar.

i walked by them. a little bit further down the street. stopped in the bushes, put my bag down, rested against the stone wall for a bit, and just watched. furiously painting, looking around (probably not often enough for their own good). Finally finished, took up the paints and the stencil. took off.

Walked back down the street. Looked down. A dark blue ... something. Couldn't really figure it out. The door opens. A young man walks out.

"This yours?"

"yeah ... it's a face"

"why? any reason?"

"boredom. why else at 3 in the morning."

"thought of it at 11" the other chimed in.

So that was it.

Here i thought i was witness to some bold political statement, some act of guerilla art. Something that perhaps meant something. Guess not.

But does it really matter. This little splotch on the ground may provoke some thought. It looks vaguely cool. Might mean something to someone. Does that make it any less vandalism? I mean, it's not just random shit thrown on the ground. There was planning. There was execution. There was some aspect of art in there.

or something. I'm opposed to the ideas of stickers as advertisements. I've seen too many damn stickers all over our theatre, over the city streets.

I really disapprove of invading someone else's space with something so permanent.

So, is paint on the sidewalk any different? because it's paint? because it's not mass produced? because it can be considered more "art" than a piece of paper with glue on the backing?

Walking through nyc this summer, i noticed payphones with paper figures pasted onto the booths, around the phones. all the work of one artist. These are stickers of sorts. but they are also art. where to draw the line? is there a line?

what the hell am i talking about? complete bullshit.

my life has degenerated to a point where the highlights are collecting money for bands and stalking vandals. oh dear. I've got to get out more. i've got to get a life. I've got to...

yeah. that.

saturday, september 27, 1997, 05:55

Ended off a completely wasted evening by falling asleep listening to enya. That was nice. Other than that, the night was pretty much a complete bust, showing three movies that nobody (well, almost nobody) came to see, which weren't even that good.

You know, I think the Lion King is a lot more fun if you've got little kids around watchin it with you. Or maybe I just wasn't in the mood for it today, but it wasn't as good as I liked to think.

And Heavy Metal. Ugh. Big glowing ball of evil. That's the whole movie. Can't believe i sat through all of it.

Returned home to great sketchiness with a couple of my friends stoned off their asses. Or something. I didn't really have the desire to find out what was going on.

That, and there was talk of someone at the party they had been at all night who was in the process of throwing up all over the place somewhere. And I really couldn't muster any sympathy at all. I find there to be absolutely no excuse for drinking so much that you get sick from it. It really shows me that an individual can't take care of himeself (herself, whatever).

Something about not being able to judge how much is too much after you've already had too much? Not going to fly. Just not worth listening to.

Damn I feel like a bastard. It's just that I think it's a disgusting way to spend an evening.

I'd much rather have done nothing than have gotten myself in that situation.

Time for sleep before i hurt myself with these danged words.

owie.

15:09

i had another dream last night.

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