So today in great life decisions, I went to the beach and drank white wine out of a water bottle.
I came out to the icebox to eat the plums I was saving for breakfast and I’m honestly feeling so attacked right now.
College in today’s economy is like sunscreen on a scorchingly hot afternoon: You have to see the people who didn’t apply it to fully appreciate how important it is. The same way a blistering sun both makes sunscreen feel ineffective and makes it more crucial than ever, recessions can both make a college degree seem ineffective and make it more important than ever.
So, what if, instead of thinking about solving your whole life, you just think about adding additional good things. One at a time. Just let your pile of good things grow.
My parents are coming to visit on Wednesday (they’re leaving tomorrow [“around six, is my hope,” says my mom] and driving for two days from Ohio to get here) and I’m currently contemplating not actually doing my laundry but rather just shoving all of my clothes into my closet.
This would be okay except there are no hotel rooms available here for Saturday and my mom thinks they might stay until Sunday (i.e. the day I leave to go on vacation with my friends) and so they might just take over my room for a night. I’d like to think they wouldn’t snoop in my closets but they probably will.
When we took Shakespeare’s “Measure for Measure” into a maximum security woman’s prison on the West Side…there’s a scene there where a young woman is told by a very powerful official that “If you sleep with me, I will pardon your brother. And if you don’t sleep with me, I’ll execute him.” And he leaves the stage. And this character, Isabel, turned out to the audience and said: “To whom should I complain?” And a woman in the audience shouted: “The Police!” And then she looked right at that woman and said: “If I did relate this, who would believe me?” And the woman answered back, “No one, girl.” And it was astonishing because not only was it an amazing sense of connection between the audience and the actress, but you also realized that this was a kind of an historical lesson in theater reception. That’s what must have happened at The Globe. These soliloquies were not simply monologues that people spoke, they were call and response to the audience. And you realized that vibrancy, that that sense of connectedness is not only what makes theater great in prisons, it’s what makes theater great, period.