Because two Olivier Awards is nothing

Tomorrow night I'm going to an acting masterclass taught by Philip Quast. He's got three Oliviers, bitches. Anyway, I'm singing an R&H ditty, and thoroughly excited to be getting performance feedback, since I never get that anymore. I don't want to forget that I'm an actress, too. I know it's been ages since I was in a show or even at an audition (October?), but I do want to keep performing as well as writing. I think it's important that I do both and do them well, so just because I'm honing one craft now doesn't mean I should be letting the other slide. Lots of people do more than one thing, and those who do more than one thing well work at them. End of lesson.

And speaking of doing lots of things, holy cats, this semester kicked in and hard! I turned in two songs today (both went well!!), had a seminar, had a new class, went to a rehearsal, and even got my butt to the library to pick up some books. I've got a song going up tomorrow, I'm singing two songs tomorrow, I have to write two new songs for next week for school, I have to write a Cream of the Crap (tentative title. In case you can't tell, I really hope we pick something else to call this whole podcast thing. I think that title's way too gross) for this weekend, NYAS is kicking off 2009 on Sunday, Mr H's bday celebration is Friday, Anna Ruth's bday is tomorrow, Philip Quast is tomorrow, and my Miss America party is Saturday. I'm such a social butterfly. I'm pretty much a character from Gossip Girl right now or something. It's insanity up in here.

Anyway, at the library I picked up a copy of Absurd Person Singular, NYAS's first read of this year, and A Short History of Tractors in Ukrainian. It's not what it sounds like. It's a novel about a man writing a book on tractors, and it's the book club's first book. I feel like we should name the book club, just because I don't like when groups don't have names. Oh, did I mention? I'm in a bookclub? It's a new thing. It was V's idea, and it looks like it's her, Paul, Dan and me. We're all supposed to invite people to join who don't attend GMTWP as well, so we can each socialize with a few people who have nothing to do with our writing program. I'm thinking of dragging Tom along, but I don't know if he'd be interested. I'll have to ask. I feel like most of my friends aren't big readers, which I just don't understand, since NYC thrives on public transportation, and books were friggin' invented for that sort of stuff. Whatever. The library is gighnormous and it's beautiful tile floor and echoey atrium make me want to wear high heels every day. You just feel so glamourous walking across that huge open space and clicking with each step. Heads turn.

High heels! Skirts! I decided that this semester I'm going to start dressing more like a grown up and less like an overworked soccer mom. I'm 24, not 42. These are my glamour years. I've never been one to get caught up in my attire, but I do feel better about myself when my appearance is tidy. It's been easy so far, because I need to do laundry and only my nice clothes are still clean. Michael John complimented my outfit on Tuesday, and I think that's the inspiration I need for the rest of my life. I want Michael John compliments every day, so here's to tight dresses and cute shoes, duckies!

I'm very proud of myself for today. Not only did my songs go over well and did I utilize the library instead of buying yet another book (I have to get rid of some of the ones in my home. I have no space to breathe for all the damn books in my room.), but I also came home, plopped down on my bed, and did homework! It's not due tomorrow, but I did it anyway! I'm very very very bad about procrastinating when it comes to schoolwork that isn't collaborative, so this was a big deal. Be happy for me, dammit. I read stuff AND I started a song that's not due for a whole week! Booyah!

But about that yoga month... Right... Um... Failing miserably since my illness. Must must must must must get back to class. Must cleanse mind and home space om. Must master my headstand om. Must om. Om. Ommmmmm. Don't judge.