The sporadic ramblings of Emily C. A. Snyder - devoted to God, theatre, writing, and much randominity.

My Photo
Name:
Location: New York, New York, United States

http://www.cupidandpsyche.net http://www.emilycasnyder.com

Saturday, August 06, 2005

Here we are now - entertain us

  • Pinnochio: good. (Pride: increased.)

  • A Scholar of Magics: satisfactory (would have been wholly satisfactory had she concluded the romance, but since she allowed it whatsoever - even if stealing blatantly from Gaudy Night - it marks an improvement over the previous novel). Enjoyable fun.

  • Quiet houses: priceless.

  • Bizarre dreams: not quite so.

  • Amusement would be: writing up a list of all the ridiculous demands/limitations/absurdities put upon me by producerly types for shows. Mom and I were reminiscing and laughing (in very hindsight) over them. Aie!

  • "I don't want to be the sweeper of the eggshells that you walk upon" - dang, good lyrics!

  • As much as I anticipate the beginning of the school year and the goodness of getting back to work, I'm dreading it as well. Good heavens - all the stress, the multitude of jobs that accumulate during the school year, the unforeseen disasters - whether academic, personal, spiritual or simply having to do with supposed communiques. Looking forward to the job - not the stress. It's been good to have a stress-free summer. Even if it took me this long to decompress. *sigh*

  • Prayers for all those I've promised to pray for. Which brings my mind tangentally to thanksgiving for the lovely bohemian hour on the Common before Hamlet and prayers for Jo.

  • Perhaps it would be nice to be a student again - enroll in Emerson - who knows....

  • Axiom du jour: If one is going to build a theatre - build it right the first time!

  • It was brought up to me during our houseguest's stay and at another time that I haven't dated in - what? - two years? Anyway, it was odd because the people in question immediately gave exclamations of sympathy that confused me greatly for a moment. Why were they sorry for me? I wasn't sorry for me. I hadn't really thought about it much at all (or at least, nothing like I used to pre-matriculation). They both assured me that there was time yet, that I might find a guy and get married and...y'know what? (This has got to be a grace!) I found that sympathy more disturbing. I mean, sure, I'm looking cockeyed at God and scowling half-heartedly and muttering and grumbling that the least He could do is let me have one real kiss before I marry Him and forego that nicety for all eternity, but at the same time, even that secular urgency doesn't seem so urgent. What I miss is romance - but perhaps I don't yearn for the truth of marriage to a mortal (that sounds so pretentious - but I can hardly say "man" because He is - oy!). I'm still not putting it right. I suppose all I can say is that to my surprise, I find that my heart is resting more and more in the separation from all that I've ever expected and so moving by degrees to entertain a very different - and, to be honest, far more romantic, in every aspect of that word, punnishly as well! - proposal. I'm not there yet - but I'm closer than I thought I was.

    Mood: Pensive
    Music: The Hamlet CD.
    But now I must needs: Get me ready for Jills.

  • 0 Comments:

    Post a Comment

    << Home