I got to be in a lot of scenes-- mostly as servants with very few lines, but my inner ham just enjoyed being on stage. I did get to be Oswald and have a dramatic death scene, although after I fell to the ground ("You have slain me!") I couldn't read the lines anymore because it was dark on the floor. So I totally broke character and wriggled around into a patch of light to read the rest of my death speech.

I love how all of Shakespeare's death scenes start off with "I am slain!" and then a five minute speech. "Yes, I'm about to die. But before I go, I have some very flowery and dramatic things to say to you..." And then they always end with, "Death! O death! Cruel death!" or something like that.

Anyway. Class was fun. My professor was absolutely right at the beginning of the semester-- these plays are very physical and meant to be read in three-dimensional space. It's amazing how much even our pathetic attempts at blocking and acting added to the language.

Next week we start on The Tempest. I've loved all the plays we've read so far, and I fully intend to love The Tempest just as much. Especially if I get to act!

We have two projects due at the end of this class. One is some kind of creative project-- I have been trying to write some type of one-act play (one of our options) and it is so not going well. I will end up resorting to poetry, probably. I don't want to. I'd like to do something different.

The other project is to direct a scene. I am getting excited about that one now, since we've already begun to think about movement and action and props and stuff like that. I wonder how casting is going to work-- who I'll cast, and if anyone is going to cast me in their scenes. And, oh, what scene I'll do. I better get cracking...

I am spending my precious day off (Friday) in the silkscreen lab. (I guess it's a lab. What else do you call it?) One of my former students, who has taken classes on silk-screening, is going to teach Joey and I how to use the silkscreen equipment to do the cover of our chapbook. I'm also going to do the cover of my own chapbook.

I've been working on the Ghost Stories layout all night-- I keep messing up the pagination; it's so frustrating. I wish I had Pagemaker or Quark or something. Doing everything on Word is kind of tricky.

My own chapbook is next. I've picked out some possible fonts-- like I said, I have to figure out the cover font by Friday. And the cover font has to match the inside fonts. This is the hardest part. I'm thinking of using a serif font for the text this time, thereby necessitating a sans serif font for the cover and the titles. (Can you tell I think about fonts a little too much?)

My cousin Lucy sent me some incredible photos to use, and I have to see how they will look when photocopied onto my sparkle paper. And I have a couple of pictures of my own and one of Abby's that might work too. And oh, yeah, small detail: I need to pick the poems.

I'm just going to pare down the manuscript that I gave to my professor and then put the poems in some semblance of order. I don't know how many poems I'm going to use yet-- I was going to make it an 8.5x11 chapbook, but now I don't know. I could always do a horizontal one instead of a vertically folded one, to accommodate the lineation...

I'm having issues. And yet, I'll have to have them all figured out by Friday. No choice!

The above was written on Wednesday. Now it's Thursday. I just have to say a few things.

First, the photos look great on the sparkle paper-- I think the chapbook is really going to come out well. I picked all my poems and figured out how I'm going to lay it out-- along the snow road is coming together at last.

Secondly, I actually hung out at the poetry reading tonight, since it was my friend Toker's MFA reading. And it was one of those nights where I was "on fire" as Laurie said. Maybe it was my new jeans: they are very flattering, and I notice this every time I walk past a reflective surface. Self confidence goes a long, long way.

But whatever "it" is, tonight, I had it.

Before the reading, in our workshop, we turned in last week's optional assignment: to write portrait poems about others in our class. A lot of people didn't do the assignment, but two people wrote poems about me. Both talked about my oceanic eyes and both mentioned birds, although they're very different in style. It's strange; I have a lot of close friends in the class, but these two people (although I like them) aren't among my bosom friends or anything. Reading these amazing poems about me was really special, especially coming from people who don't know me all that well.

So I had great jeans and two odes written about me, automatically a good start. Then at the bar before the reading I had a bunch of people tell me things like they were sure I would be famous (and that everyone thinks so) or that I am the most successful writer in the program (and everyone thinks so) or that my poetry is great (you get the idea). I am telling you, it was one of those nights.

And all night I had people flirting with me-- it wouldn't have been "one of those nights" if they weren't. The girl who placed the personal ad for me even showed up. (I didn't know what to say to her because, well, it's just a strange situation. She left quickly though, so I didn't get much of a chance to say anything). And this one guy in particular, who I see around all the time but have never really talked to, invited me out for drinks tomorrow night (he was impressed when I quoted Spinal Tap at him).

Finally at the open mike, I read my poems, and I got a lot of applause, and laughter, and generally a great response from the audience.

I'm glad I decided to hang out tonight. First, it reminded me how amazing and fun our community is, and how much I will miss being a part of it. And second, it reminded me that-- as Bob and Doug Mackenzie would say-- I'm on fire, eh.