Do I wake or sleep?

Rape Cop Kenneth Moreno has a violent history with ex-girlfriend over custody issues--so violent, in fact, that at one point the NYPD confiscated his weapons.

Way to go, jury! Sure picked a winner this time. Thanks for helping keep the streets safe from this maniac.

Researcher finds one "Jane Shaxpere" who drowned picking flowers.

So cool!

The second and third performances of Sweeter Dreams went MUCH better. I am getting used to the laughter during that opening monologue, and playing with the timing a bit, although my timing still isn't perfect mainly because that monologue TERRIFIES ME. I can never, ever relax during this show, I always have to be aware of what's coming up because ZOMG SO MANY WORDS. But I am starting to get into the moments more. I told Scott (who plays Brad--my character is so isolated and I work so little with the other actors that I literally only learned his actual name this week) that "I think I've invented a speech impediment" (my weird little Rs). He loves our scene together, he's told me several times how much he likes my line readings on things like "that's grrrret" and "grrrrret things are in store for him."

Interesting to know there have been reviewers--I'm a little worried about that because I can't get a feel for how I'm coming across. (Oh for God's sake Clara, STOP DIRECTING YOURSELF.) Anyway, a little worried that I'm going to get raked by reviewers.

We had softball Saturday and I made another double play! Runner on first, ball was hit to shortstop who flipped it to me and I made the throw to first. Yee haw! That's actually a harder out, because I have to pivot on second base, it's a difficult throw. I practice it all the time but since I have no prep for the throw, it's not easy.

I was running in Sunday afternoon (I was a little late for the call) and passed someone in the lobby--I stopped and said "You're 'Jeff Mancuso'! Oh my god, I love the Cellular Biology clip!" The guy is in one of the clips from the movies in review in Sweeter Dreams--Cellular Biology gets a *terrible* review from me, and the clip I show is effing hilarious with that obnoxious kiss. A lot of people who were in the clips saw the show this weekend.

After the matinee yesterday, I went up to Central Park for more softball. Got three hits yesterday!

Cop Rapists outed on East Village fliers.

When you read about how justice was perverted in this case:

*the defense attorney's unbelievable language (comparing her vagina to a Venus Fly Trap, and suggesting she could've bruised her own cervix(internal examination proved she been forcefully penetrated) by "vigorously scrubbing" with a loofah).

*the rapist's wife numerous interviews where she calls the victim a golddigging whore. I get that she's terrified because her husband has ruined their future but Jesus, woman, STFU. You can support your husband without screeching like a fishwife and violating the victim again.

*the fact that the accomplice originally tried to cop a plea deal with the DA--he was going to testify that his partner *did* rape the woman. The DA turned him down, because they felt they had a really strong case. Well yeah, as long as you don't get a jury of CSI-addled morons who seem to think it's impossible to rape without leaving semen (psst--condoms take care of that. Also, cops know how to clean crime scenes. Also, it's possible to rape without using a penis--like, with a broom).

*the fact that they stole the woman's phone and called her family to threaten them. (from the NYPD internal investigation)

*the fact that they NYPD found *other* women's IDs in the guy's locker. (from the NYPD internal investigation)

*the fact that they stole her keys, faked a 9-1-1 call and went back THREE MORE TIMES--and these fuckers still REFUSED to convict them.

This whole case makes me sick, just sick. What's even creepier is that the rapist and his wife are moving out to California--which is where the victim now lives. It's a big state, I know, but still creepy. Why don't you move to France instead? I hear they love rapists over there.

Frankly, I have no sympathy. You're a predator? These are the consequences. It's easy enough to find out this information as it is--anyone could've looked this up online. And all they post is the street, not the house number.

I feel I'm looking at the police differently after this case. Frankly the NYPD reacted rather gratifyingly--first, by firing them IMMEDIATELY and nullifying their pensions (GOOD. That's a lot of money they lost--GOOD). And apparently they showed no support during the trial either--as I mentioned above, there was an internal report which shows how truly sketchy and criminal these two were. There was a whole stash of women's IDs in one of their lockers, as well as falsified logbooks, and heroin. I don't feel like all cops are bad.

However if I'm ever in a vulnerable situation where a cop might take advantage--I no longer feel I can call them. The cabbie who was trying to help the woman (the one who originally called the cops) thought he was doing the RIGHT thing. That's what kills me. That moronic jury has compromised the basis of trust for all the women of this city.

So I'm in Duncan's play, Sweeter Dreams, playing Roberta leFay, the film critic. We started off-book rehearsals last week which terrified me going in--Roberta has a CRAZY-long monologue that kicks off the play, 2+ pages. As well as 4 or so other monologues ranging from 1.5 pages to a paragraph. I have two scenes with dialogue but most of my performance is me monologuing. As I worked on it I realized the sound of the voice I'm giving her reminded me of Darren Nichols from Slings and Arrows--appropriate since the two characters share certain elemental personality traits. I built on that and now she definitely has her own distinct, weird voice, especially with the Rs. "That's grrret!"

I got through the first off-book rehearsal okay--not great but okay. I was terrified for the first, longest monologue--I literally sat there in one pose for pretty much the entire piece, just thinking ahead to the next phrase, the next thought. Every time I run them, my muscle memory retains a little bit more. That said, I kind of like Roberta being a little stiff in weird ways. You'll see what I mean when you come to the show, but I have this kind of Juliet Prowse on the bottom, Dawn Weiner on the top body language thing going on. Anyway every rehearsal is a little easier, even though I keep changing the pronunciations of certain words. Based on my analysis of the text, I decided that Roberta was very Baroque, and likes to complicate things. She also likes words, as evidenced by her LONG monologues and by her florid vocabulary, and likes to be very correct in her pronunciations of foreign phrases. So I add syllables, I enunciate words within an inch of their lives, I over-hit my Ds & Ts. It's fun. I've been cracking up Duncan and the cast which of course is great--I'm doing my job--but then *I* laugh as well. I'll be fine in performance, it's just in rehearsal I lose it. I've never played a character as over-the-top as this.

We had our dress rehearsal last night--I have INSANE amounts of costumes. All huge-ass power suits and dresses. My first outfit is basically a whole effing COW--heavy red leather top, heavy leather skirt. My heart sank when I looked at all the outfits lined up--it just seems like so much, so much clothes, so many scenes, SO MUCH VERBIAGE. But actually the runthrough went quite well--I'm on the other side, I'm not that nervous about performances anymore. And I made some of the cast members laugh during my interview of Brad. Yay for being funny!

I'm...devastated. Man, I just cannot believe this. I can't believe it. I can't believe it.

Fuck the jury system. People are pigs. These fucking pieces of filth ADMITTED it. The victim taped the guy admitting he'd done it. So much evidence against them.

Jesus. It's open season on women now--read this comments section on a Salon article for a taste of how much free-floatng fucking HATRED there is for women. Way to go jury, you've just convinced every woman who is raped NOT to come forward. Why bother? When there's as much evidence as with this case--when the guy ADMITS IT--Jesus, I hate people.

HATE. Thank God that asshole in 2007 didn't actually stick around--clearly he would've been acquitted. Oh wait, he was a black thug, not one of our shining wonderful policeman who are here to serve and protect. BULLSHIT. Fucking bullshit. Fucking rot in hell, you rapist animals.

I hope I meet them on the street so I can spit in their rapist faces.

Last weekend I had my regular 1 pm Saturday game of softball, and then another at 6, way uptown (by 102nd Street). These are two different teams, both part of the alumni league, but there is some overlap. I started playing for the second team, affiliated with the Michigan School of Business, at the behest of someone on the first team, Cecil, who also went to the University of Chicago. (I personally went to neither Chicago NOR Michigan!) I started playing with the Chicago team last year, and they know me pretty well by now, but there is someone new on the team (at least he wasn't there last year) who is getting on my nerves. Despite having seen me in action, he treats me as though I don't know how to play, or am completely unathletic--in other words, he's either a male chauvinist or doing a good imitation of one. I will say, he is part of a cultural/ethnic group that has a reputation for being extremely chauvinistic. Two weeks ago he was playing at shortstop--every time there was a runner on first, he would explain to me how, if the ball was hit to him, he was going to throw it to me. After about the third iteration of this, I snapped at him "yes--I know how to play softball. I get it." Last week he did even worse--he was playing shortfield and came running in to field a looper. He got it and was about 20 feet away from me--instead of just throwing it, he gave me this exaggerated "baby" throw, very arched, as though I couldn't handle a real throw. Not only was this insulting, he arched it so high, it nearly went over my head! I leaped up to catch it, was barely able to do so but did, and made the catch (and the out). This being the third out, as we jogged off the field I said to him, my voice kind of shaking--I was caught between anger that he'd done such a stupid, insulting thing, and gladness that I made the out anyway--"Dude, just THROW it. I can handle it. You arched that way too high, I'm not that tall."

So this has definitely been getting on my nerves. After this game, I took a walk through the park on my way to the new Sprinkles which has just opened on the Upper East Side by Bloomingdale's. I had an adorable encounter on my way there--at the southeast corner of the park, I stopped at a hotdog stand that featured all organic meats. I ordered a turkey hotdog and the guy, who from his accent was from another country, asked me what condiments I'd like. He listed all of them and my eyes lit up when he said raw onions--I said raw onions, brown mustard and mayonnaise. He said "are you from New York City?" I said originally I'm from Virginia. He said "it is unusual for Americans to have mayonnaise on their hotdogs, very unusual." I said well, Southerners love their mayonnaise--we put it on everything. Fries, grilled cheese sandwiches, everything. (Side note--my mother puts it on SALAD. And cottage cheese. Mmm. I grew up eating cottage cheese for lunch with a dab of mayo on top.) I asked him where he was from, he said Egypt, and I said I was dying to visit there sometime. (Gotta see the only still-extant Seven Wonders of the World.) Then I mentioned that I'd spent time in Spain, including the place where mayonnaise was invented--the town of Mahon, on the island of Menorca, in the Balearic Islands. He was fascinated, and asked me exactly where so I sketched out a little map of the Iberian archipelago with my hands for him. He said he'd have to remember, so he could tell his customers. It was just such a charming New York City moment.

After THAT I went to Sprinkles (mmm, dark chocolate cupcakes...), then to church. I am pretty much incapable of getting up for the morning service, not to mention I'd have to dress up a lot more. The weekend early evening services are much better for me, and lower key--no one seems to mind that I'm in softball gear! They have a 5:20 mass on Saturdays, and an Evensong service at 5:00 on Sundays--I prefer the Saturday because Evensong is a longer, bigger deal. Also, I sang in my church choir for like thirty years, starting from the age of seven, and to me the term "Evensong" means "another precious weekend day spent all day at church!" (We had Evensong one Sunday every month, and on those days we had an 11 am service and then one later on at 5, so I spent all day in a dress. I hated this.) This week the service was in the St. Joseph Chapel, which I love--it's one of St. Mary's little side chapels, and it's so pretty and small and personal. St. Mary's really has THE most gorgeous physical facility of any non-cathedral I've ever seen.



After church I went back uptown for Game 2. When I got there, as it turned out there weren't too many Michigan players there--we were playing against Fordham, who had plenty of players, so some of them played for us. My Chicago team also plays against Fordham and they remembered me (I typically do pushups when my team is at bat--mainly to keep my blood moving and my energy up, but also to psych 'em out ;) So we get out there, and the shortstop on my team is very good--and I can just *tell* from the way he's playing, he just assumes I'm not that good. (Example--instead of throwing the ball to me, he's running the ball over to make the play himself.) I don't take this too personally--he doesn't know me, hasn't seen me play--but it gets to me nonetheless. I'm brooding over this a bit when an awesome, once-in-a-season play happens.

We're in the field, and there are runners at first and third. The ball is hit to the third baseman, who checks the runner at third, then throws it to me at second. I make the out, see the runner at third going for home, and NAIL the ball to the catcher. Like, that ball was on a CLOTHESLINE. The catcher makes the tag. Not only is this a double-play but we saved a run! Our team goes bananas--EVERYONE, my team and theirs, was congratulating me, "oh my God, did you see that?!" Hullaballoo ad infinitum. It. Was. Awesome. The reaction went on quite a while, and of course I knew part of the reason people were so impressed was because I'm a girl. No guy who made a double-play would've gotten such a reaction--certainly the catcher and the third-baseman, who were part of it, weren't patted on the back liike this. You know what? That's the flip side of the crap I get most of the time, one small reward. Right now, I'll take the adulation, thanks ;)

*Basking*

The only thing that could've improved it if it had happened in front of the obnoxious guy on the Chicago team.

So, as I said in my last entry, I had an interesting meeting with my professor a few weeks ago. I wanted to touch base with him, mainly, on my paper (at that point I was worried I wouldn't have enough material in the Annales Gendanses text to flesh out my analysis on the Battle of the Golden Spurs), but also on a few other issues. I started out by telling him first off, I love the class and I want to apologize for always blurting out the answer. He started to laugh and said, holding up his fingers close together, just give the rest of the class a beat before you jump in. I said it's a function of several things--1) I'm an actor, and hence a show off. 2) I'm an athlete, so I hate being beaten to the answer. And 3) this is my thing*, this is medieval history, my big interest. He then asked me--what are you doing here at Columbia? I said do you mean what else am I taking this semester, or in the larger sense? He said--well, you're clearly extremely bright, very capable, and you read the texts very carefully. And you're in a non-degree program. I said well, I'm part of the Post-baccalaureate Studies Program. I want to get my master's in history but I majored in English and music, and had never actually taken a history class before I started here, although I'd certainly read a lot of history on my own. So this is part of putting together a competitive application, to get some history credits. He said to me--save your money. You're certainly capable of doing the work--you should have no difficulty getting into a good program, either here or somewhere else. All you need are your GREs and a recommendation, which I'm happy to write for you. I said--but Columbia doesn't really have a master's in history--it's part of a Ph.D. track-program. He said no, but they offer a master's in medieval/Renaissance studies. My eyes got big. First of all, that he's looked up my record (knew that I am currently in a non-degree program); second, that he's, like, strategizing for me!

So--food for thought. I have not pre-registered yet for the fall because I need to think this summer about this application--if I want to commit to it, to apply for the fall of 2012. I'd been thinking about taking off the semester anyway just to give my savings a break. I also have to talk to the PTB and make sure I can go part-time (less than that, really, one class at a time)--although for an actual master's, I would be more comfortable with actually getting a loan instead of just paying out my savings. It wouldn't be that much, since a humanities master's only takes about a year (full-time). And think about taking the GREs--again. I took them back when I was a college senior--I did well on them (high 600s-low 700s--I got like 720 on the logic section) but that was awhile ago.

And besides Kosto, I have no doubt that Professors Kaye (Intellectual Medieval Life) and Maiuro (Roman History) would also write me recommendations. Maiuro and I got along like a house afire, and everytime I see Kaye he asks me when I'm going to take another class of his.

*At one point I noticed he had a book by Norman Cantor on my shelves--I interrupted myself and said oh, I love him! I have several books of his, including Inventing the Middle Ages, Medieval Lives and In the Wake of the Plague. I'm so easily distracted--oooh, pretty shiny!

So, this past week has been a bit stressful--we got the study sheet for the final last Tuesday and it was really no help. Basically it was "go over everything we studied in class." We studied at least 1000 pages of primary sources, not to mention at least that much of secondary sources! And the man really does lecture VERY quickly. But at least this time we didn't have to identify actual passages from the sources (he did that for the midterm, VERY HARD). The TA ran a study session that confirmed my hunch that going over the themes of the class would be a useful way to break it down. Last week I made up a study guide--25 PAGES LONG. It took so long to type, I actually didn't finish typing it until Friday night, when I no longer had access to a computer at work or home. (I actually have a home printer but it's crap, doesn't feed very well. I really just keep it for a scanner.) I figured I might be able to send it to a printer on the campus network, but I read how to do it on the Columbia site--it's sort of complicated, there are queues and a quota. I wandered around my neighborhood Saturday morning and found a UPS "store" that also offers office service, including printing, and for much less than I'd feared. So banged out that job! I stayed in my apartment for most of the weekend, going over this material. OY. So much more stressed for this final than my others--I really, really do not like this final format. I was not that worried for my finals in Roman History or Medieval Intellectual Life, I felt very prepared for them. Oh well, if I was worried, I can only imagine my classmates were as well.

The exam. I probably got a 95% on the first section (reverse identifications) and I know I nailed the middle section. He gave us a document that we hadn't studied--we had to pick it apart as a source, looking at the language, possible bias, try to figure out who wrote & when, find contradictions, etc. I had a blast with that, especially when I snarkily pointed out a contradiction that reflected some ass-kissing on the part of the chronicler. The third part--that was hardest and naturally it was worth the most. I thought I did okay, but not as well as the middle section. I finished up pretty well though, I wrote how "the canon texts of the Laws of War of the High Middle Ages were like so many distant mirrors, reflecting the giants who had preceded them and and each other, building" blah blah blah--basically the point was that these pieces drew on each other and the past [very medieval, they all made constant reference to previous writers, especially Aristotle and Augustine]. And shoutouts to Baabara Tuchman* can only help! Anyway, I sat there for at least a couple of minutes before I came up with that last concluding line--extemporaneous eloquence is not easy!

When I turned in the blue books, I asked about our papers--we were supposed to get them back after the final. Jay (TA) has suggested before the final but Professor Kosto vetoed it--I said to Jay "probably for the best. Can you imagine being in a classroom trying to concentrate on your final while someone next to you is silently weeping or angrily scratching in their blue books? Bit distracting!" Anyway, Jay whispered to me that I'd gotten an A--I made him repeat it! I was thrilled, not least because I got an A- on my first paper--and I still don't know why, because they seemed to love it! Nothing but compliments. Anyway, very happy about that, and then later Jay mailed our papers' comments to us.

Jay'd said : Very nice intermingling of cultural/military issues, perceptive reading of sources, and lovely writing. Good work!

And Kosto said: I wasn´t sure where you were going with this, but it turned out very well. Super readings of the written sources, and a nice use of the visual ones. You don´t blindly apply the models of chivalry, but extract a model of moral behavior from your own reading of the sources. Well done.

Eeeeehhhhh! I love this because--when I first discussed the topic with them (the role of the cavalry in the Battles of Hastings (1066--the Normans invaded England) and the Golden Spurs (1302, Courtrai--the French cavalry were smashed by a bunch of Flemish burghers and peasants))--*I* wasn't sure where I was going with it! I had an idea about the imaginative connection with the horse, but I didn't have this firm thesis I was definitely going to prove. I just had a feeling, and followed my instincts, exploring through my writing. I'd wanted to use as one of my sources the Bayeux Tapestry--Kosto said that I should use another additional source to explicate the tapestry, so I used William of Poitiers's Gesta Guillelmi, and for the Battle of the Golden Spurs, a Flemish source. But I knew--somehow--the Tapestry would be useful, I could do something with that--and in the end, the piece also talked about the power of the imagery of the Tapestry (which I wrote in my last entry).

*Her A Distant Mirror is a classic in this field--EVERYONE'S read it. And it has a whole delicious chapter on the Black Death!