Do I wake or sleep?

There was talk of getting a drink after rehearsal tonight but we ended up not doing so. Very glad. Very tired. I haven't gotten much sleep this week and the weekend is very tight. Tomorrow the usual beauty regiment--pedicure, manicure, wax. Plus rehearsal from 3-6. Then a show out in Queens (!). Out afterwards with Tim. Sunday morning brunch with Metty, Rita, Daddy, Liz and Tim. Then rehearsal from 12-2. Too, too much. Very busy. Very tired.

There's an ad on right for a CD called "Jazz After Dark." It actually looks promising--Billie Holliday, Ella Fitzgerald, Diana Krall--except that it's produced by Playboy and has a huge honkin' Bunny silhouette on the cover. It reminds me of the Swinging Sixties when Hef's show Playboy After Dark was polluting the airwaves. One of the funniest (albeit unintentionally) shows ever. Full of these Austin Powers wanna bes and babes doing the frug in their baby doll nighties and lots of funky camera angles to show off how hipster it is. They use words like "potable" and "bubbly." Hi-freakin'-larious.

Around 4:30 I went to to the post office on 33rd and 8th, intending to mail my returns. But the line to buy registered mail postage was literally out the door and I didn't want to waste the light, so I decided to go Monday during work. I took the C train down to Union Square and hung out there for the rest of the afternoon. There's a wonderful Farmer's Market there every Saturday where they sell all sorts of fresh produce and delicious baked goods and dairy products. The last time I was there, a couple of weeks ago, I bought a yogurt drink and a pint of pumpkin creme brulee ice cream from a dairy farm that hails from upstate. Daaaaah...(said with a Homeric drool). Today I bought two blocks of cheese, a pumpkin-apple muffin, pumpkin-ginger bread with raisins, a Ukrainian baked treat of some kind with dates, almonds, honey and a lot of sweet stuff, and a thing made with walnuts, oats and chocolate. My God. Words cannot describe the deliciousness. And this on the day before I shoot my final stuff for "The Promise" and I'm trying not to eat much (i.e., anything). I felt like Lloyd Bridges in Airplane!--"Looks like I picked a bad day to give up carbs."

After I bought all the deliciousness, I worked my way over to the 14th Street side of the square and flopped down on the sunny asphalt and worked on my stuff for the Shakespeare showcase. I'm almost completely off book and just have my two Ophelia things to memorize. I got a lot of work done and it was just a really nice environment, surrounded by a lot of students and people just hanging out, drinking in the sun just as I was. People reading, walking their dogs, talking, relaxing, feeling the city around them. Very, very nice.

Eventually of course, the peace was disturbed (I heard it even through my headphones) by some older guy who was talking veryveryvery LOUDLY about Saddam, the war, Bush, etc. The peace, the feeling was ruined by this guy who was desperate to have someone engage with him; he kept saying "I want to argue about this!" Nobody wanted to argue, dude (although I did hear a few "shut up!"s called out). People just wanted to enjoy the day. Thanks for pissing all over it, asshole. And haven't you gotten the memo? The war is pretty much over. Like it or not, it happened without you. Why don't you invest your energy in an area where you can actually have a practical effect instead of screaming at people in the park?

So I picked up and walked over to the dog run and enjoyed watching the doggies run around. They were hilarious, especially this one long-haired, shaggy creature that kept dashing through this muddy, deep puddle and then running past all the humans and generally getting everything as filthy as he was. The other dogs, noticing the muddy water, would trot over and start to slurp, prompting the nervous owners to yell at them to stop. So, so cute. Dogs know how to have a good time. I wanted to be a dog myself, just watching them.

I left the park, after giving some of my baked goods to a hungry guy who asked me for help (I won't give money but if I have food, I'll give that), I wended my way uptown and stopped at Aerosole on the way--they had some cute yellow suede shoes in the window and, well, you know how that goes. Gotta try to sleep early tonight.

Watched more of Hamlet last night but I didn't have time to watch the whole thing. I turned it off during Ophelia's funeral. I really like the very medieval feeling of the shoot. Love the way the castle dwarfs its inhabitants and how gloomy everything is. And there are a couple of party scenes that make me think of that Anglo-Saxon poem about the bird flying through the hall and how narrow the boundary is between warm and cozy on the inside, and cold and friendless on the outside.

I went through Midsummer Night's Dream today to find some Titania stuff for the showcase. I think I'm going to do the "These are the forgeries of jealousy" passage in Act II. Some beautiful stuff there.

It seems the cold may be lifting a bit--it's supposed to hit the upper 20s today. It's not much but it's better than what it was. I'm less depressed.

Last Monday I auditioned for and got cast in a showcase. It's a compilation of Shakespeare's women roles--I'm playing Ophelia, Miranda and possibly Rosalind. Yea~! That should be exciting. I love serving up some crazy-ass herb-counting and muttering Ophelia. It goes up in late April-early May at a new theater on 34th called the Abingdon.

Yesterday on my service there was a message from a CD who got my H/R from someone for whom I auditioned at least a year ago. He called him back, and he told me they're shooting a 35mm short film. They're talking to me about playing a beautiful fantasy woman seen on a train. He emailed me the script--it's 20 pp. long. It looks to be a good part, and they seem to have their shit together. The best part was when he was asking me my specs--I told him my waist and chest measurements, although I can't remember my hips. Then he asked my age--I thought about lowballing it, but I don't like enabling ageism by lying about my age. I realize I can afford this attitude to some extent, because I do look younger than 35--in fact, I still get carded sometimes--but nonetheless...I told him and he seemed delighted. That may be because he and the director are French, and the French generally believe a woman gets more, not less attractive, as she gets older.

Anyway, I'm meeting with them on Thursday, I guess to discuss this further.