money money money, must be funny... in a rich man's world...

The ABBA song says it all. Look up the lyrics. I hate money so much. Rather, I hate everything I can't do without it. Sigh. Onward and downwards to paying rent out my ass for the next year and trying to make ends meet. Not encouraging. But it's the truth. It's the present. Here and now. Onwards.

That being said, I totally went to Half Price today. :x

• The Once and Future King by T.H. White
• Seven Plays by Sam Shepard
• The Good Woman of Setzuan by Bertolt Brecht
• Stardust (the comic book version) by Neil Gaiman and drawn by Charles Vess

Ughhhhh. What is it about bookstores. Why do I feel so friggin compulsive when I'm in them? And especially when they're used books. ESPECIALLY USED AND VINTAGE BOOKS. I'm horribly obsessive about them. It's a problem. Basically.

Oh, I'm seeing Idina Menzel at Potowatomi  Bingo & Casino on Monday night. Jesus. What.

I'm off to see "The Dark Knight". Again. For the third time. Deal with that.

oh. yeah.

So... it's not that I forgot about this... it's that I forgot to keep using it. I was busy. Sue me. (Don't sue me.) Whatever. Anyway! With a crazy summer currently underway... I hope to continue using this as an outlet for social commentary, movie and media response, and now poetry. Some dear friends of mine have started a determined movement of sharing poetry amongst one another and being very strong and open and such. So. I think. Here is where a few poems will surface now and again. Possibly. Maybe, we'll see. Who reads this, anyway? Post a comment if you're living.

Movies I've seen: Made of Honor, Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull. (reviews pending)

Movies I am DYING to see: The Dark Knight, Mamma Mia.

Jobs held: Teavana (third summer in a row; last day will be June 25), Jilly and George (one day; they politely let me go, saying I couldn't work enough hours. Bummer.)

Jobs to be had: Carroll College Academy directing position (details pending; starts June 28)

Shows performed: "Too Many Sopranos" (opera by Edwin Penhorwood; played the angel Gabriel as a silent trouser role)

Shows to be performed: "Jekyll & Hyde" with Greendale Community Theatre (as an ensemble member: the newsgirl, Red Rat dancer, party guest.)

Apartment situation: SOLVED. Details pending. *happy dance*

Reading: still trying to finish "Atlas Shrugged" by Ayn Rand (not because it is boring or too long but because I have been so fuggin busy and it takes time to concentrate on. *guilt*)

Listening to: Jason Mraz's "We Sing, We Dance, We Steal Things". Coldplay. Flight of the Conchords.

Guilty pleasures: Legally Blonde the Musical: The Search for Elle Woods. (OH MY GOD I can't even BELIEVE some of it...) Project Runway reruns. ANTM reruns. America's Best Dance Crew. Otherwise trashy tv programs aimed at my age group.

Visits to Chicago: One. Short but productive. And one planning for this week...

Visits from the Twin: One. Short but fun. Need to fix this number. *taps watch*

Progress on the novel: Uhm.... I got a handful of pages done the other day... hand-written. Haven't typed them up yet. Tomorrow, probably. Eek.

Paintings done: NONE. Gahh. I thought I would be painting like crazy this summer! ALAS. Soon. Maybe.

62nd Annual Tony Awards were tonight; congrats to South Pacific for sweeping stuff up, and to In The Heights for Best New Musical. And beyond deserving... Patti LuPone for "Gypsy". What a goddamn winner. That woman is a powerhouse and looked great and sounded great and deserves every inch of whatever ego she may have. For reals. (Oh, and... Dear Kelli O'Hara: your time will come. Teach me your career, please, kthx.)

Also. I'm totally sick. Last Thursday was Ben's birthday, so we went to Six Flags, and I thought, "Hey, I don't have to sing till Monday night! I can scream all I want to." So I did. And the next day of course I had no voice whatsoever. But I was abnormally sore, I thought, and by the end of the work day I thought I might have a fever, too. I did. The next day was spent in coughing, feverish, miserable agony. I wallowed in Jane Austen (I watched the new Sense and Sensibility adaptation and Mansfield Park) and Slings and Arrows with Mom once she got home. That night I kept waking up and feeling worse; at some point I did wind up vomiting, which I knew would only exacerbate my throat, but I didn't know what to do about it. I have been trying to stay hydrated and have been sleeping on and off all day. I have conquered the fever, I think, and most of the mucus. But my sinuses are weird now, and my throat still feels like it was attacked by drain-o or as if I'm in training to become a fire-breathing dragon. It is an absolutely terrifying feeling. I'm hoping that tomorrow will see me much improved. I definitely won't be singing at rehearsal tomorrow night. :\ Balls.

On that note.... peace!

Movie thoughts: "3:10 to Yuma"

I'm sure I don't need to link you to the imdb page for this, since it's so recent. But I finally got to see it  (since the dvd came out yesterday) and wanted to make a point to say how excellent I thought it was. Uh... spoilers ahead?

Russell Crowe, despite the cell phone incident of whatever-year-that-was, and despite any negative media connotations he carries, is an excellent actor with enormous presence and I love watching him in whatever film he does. As in "Master and Commander", he embodies dignity and badassery to the extreme, yet never seems predictable or tame. I love his speaking voice. 

Christian Bale continues to astound with his ability to grow and comfortably sport different variants of facial hair/haircuts while likewise shifting dialects between films as easily as a chameleon changes colors; while one is always aware of it being Bale behind the voice or costume, his versatility lies in making you believe that he is, in fact, whoever he's playing. Christian Bale is Bruce Wayne. Christian Bale is Jack Kelly. Christian Bale is Theodore Laurence. Christian Bale is Daniel Evans. (And so on. Duh.) It's exquisite. Each and every time he stares heatedly past the camera it's like you've never seen him before. 

Ben Foster is outrageous and chilling as Charlie Prince, the sharpshooting right hand man of Crowe's Ben Wade. His round, staring eyes and serious expression behind his scruff and beneath his broad-brimmed hat are eerie and effortlessly impassioned with the intent of doing everything for his Boss (this is a gigantor build-up to the fantastic moment in the last ten minutes of the film when Crowe absolutely destroys him for gunning down Bale's character... dead silence except for gunshots, all they do is stare at each other, and it's awesome!). His costuming is almost... surreally perfect. His hat, his coat, his silhouette are cut as meticulously onscreen as if he were a fucking diamond, but he doesn't stand out from the others visually and serves no distraction to the story. It's great. 

The film has twists and suspense that serve it well as a modern salute to old Westerns. It's old-tasting but with new enough faces and a new enough vigor to its delivery that it keeps a modern audience captive with open, slack jaws and gasps a-plenty. (Wow, do I sound like a film critic? Good.)

...uh. End spoilers here?

Other than that. I might have a little fever right now. I feel achy and cold but my face is warm. That usually signifies 'fever' yeah? Well. Shit. Tomorrow will consist of taking meds, packing/organizing stuff to go back to school (heads up, Chicagoans) and cleaning the shit out of my room. More or less literally. It's a wreck. Seriously. 

Till then. I salute you.