Practice, Practice, Practice...


I realized today that the big red sandstone building I think looks at my subway stop for work (at 57th and 7th) is, in fact, Carnegie Hall. Go fig.

It was near this very corner today when I was approached by a campaign worker for the Democratic party. He was all eager, running up to the unlucky and pestering them. He was also pretty cute. When he zeroed in on me (I had sadly neglected to wear my headphones) I tried to escape. No joy. After he asked me "Are you registered to votem, sir?", I had a momentary image of giving him head. (He was cute, okay.) I laughed quickly because that was a fairly grossly inappropiate thing to do. He asked me if I thought the election was funny. Pissed off, I decided to tell him The Truth.
"Okay," I said. "I'll tell the truth. I've already voted. I voted Democratic. I'll sit here and talk to you as much as you want, but be aware, the whole time, I'll be thinking about having sex with you."
I was pestered no more.

My glut of papers is /finally/ over and I can start to peep back out at the world, even though I still have yet to finish (or really begin) Sue Ellen Case's Feminism and Theatre. I already dislike the book: I find some of her propisitions distaste and frightening. She doesn't like the Oresteia, the only complete Greek tragic trilogy, and is willing to drop it from the canon. It seems a little hypocritical given her zeal to add forgotten Women's work.
Tomorrow night is the graduate students' Party. The college apparently is ponying up money for wine and cheese so we can mingle and meet each other outside of class. I hope it's their chance to hook me up with my promised grant, before I miss my rent. Speaking of which, it occured to me (in another Carnegie-esque flash) that my Theatre History professor is the very person for whom the grant is named. So no falling asleep in /that/ class.
I'm currently reading a selection of primary sources on Restoration drama: Dryden's criticism, contemporary accounts of actors, personal recollections, etc. It's really, really interesting (if you're a sad bastard), but makes me want to use Capital Letters for No Reason and stress my points with Italics.

I was delighted to notice that they put Jack and Bobby and Smallville back to back on the WB. It makes sense to me, as does this week's ads with Tom Weller running around with no shi... Feeling up his nipples. Also, I'm still puzzled why, given the stars and audience, last week on JandB, they did a scene in the girl's locker-room. Title 9 people. Title 9.

In the three minutes of free time I have daily, I have discovered a new way to waste time. You can go to Nationstates.net and rule your own country. I have two; the Empire I delight in and the republic I think should actually exist. Well, sort of. I only agree with limited democracy and would have a series of intelligence tests to determine level of participation in elections, but they don't let you be that specific in formulating a government.
You can visit my countries The Most Serene Republic of San Giorgio (my original name, The Republic of St George, after my own real country, was taken) and The Holy Empire of Eckardia.