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.