To Whom It May Concern:

As of right now, I formally declare myself unfit for human company.

I don't have to do this very often. I flatter myself that in general I'm a jovial individual, with a respectable ability to be happy. But periodically (like right now) I discover that I've lost the ability to be any definition of cheerful for more than a short burst of time. It's not pleasant, but it's also not personal, so if I do happen to be in your company and I snap at you, please try to believe that I'm doing the best I can, even if you deserve much better (which of course you do). Also please try to believe that I do in fact wish I were a better person, with more internal resources/fewer foibles/a better outlook on life during times of stress.

As a final note, please also know that I realize that I have a comparatively easy life/exam schedule/week and, therefore, have no objective reason to be in this foul of a mood. I am not excusing myself. In fact it pains me even to write this. I am fully aware that I sound like a whiny bitch, and that is a pretty accurate sum-up of what I am at the moment, to my own disgrace. I therefore recuse myself from social interaction until I can work out a less self-centered mentality.

Thanks for any and all understanding you can spare in this matter,

~SQ

P.S. Happy Easter.

Weather: a chilly -3
Listening to: RENT, "Halloween"
Taking a break from: Brazil planning, 3H03

This family of mine....

Because of their broken-family history, I didn't know the majority of my mom's side of the family, growing up. I knew my last remaining aunt, and one of the three uncles, but the other two -- and their wives, and ex-wives, and children, and grand-children -- were entirely unknown to me. I knew OF them, vaguely; for some reason I didn't find it particularly unusual that I had first cousins that 1) were a good 20 years older than me and that 2) I'd never met, even though most of my friends had their cousins at their birthday parties.

More recently, that's started changing, and a couple of years ago I finally met one set of my long lost kin -- my uncle Bill, his four daughters, and their assorted husbands and children. Unfortunately, I never managed to get him the Calvin and Hobbes book I promised to lend him the last time I saw him; he passed away rather unexpectedly on Monday. His daughters have crafted THE best death notice I have ever read. I won't post the whole thing, just the last line (which is the good bit):

"In lieu of flowers...buy a kid an ice cream."

I LOVE my cousins! Why didn't I know these girls earlier??

~S.

Weather: clear, crisp, sunny
Listening to: music from RENT, generally, all in my head
Taking a break from: 3H03 research

Everything is rent

I'm not sure what prompted me to download the entirety of the original Broadway cast recording of RENT, back in first year. I hadn't seen the musical and didn't really know much about it. Possibly, I overheard a friend practicing "Seasons of Love" to sing with the faculty choir, I really don't recall. What I do know is that it was strangely addicting, and over the course of the next two years I attempted to distinguish the character's voices, put the songs in relative order, and decipher the plot of the play. I was, of course, beyond overjoyed when Boyfriend presented me with a "2 and 1/2 years anniversary" present of two tickets to RENT at the Hamilton Place theatre -- not least because I had no idea it was even being performed here. Turns out it was a one-night-only thing, part of the RENT tour...so I'm glad he has sharper eyes when scanning the student newspaper than I do.

For those of you who don't know, RENT is Jonathan Larson's 1996 Pulitzer-and-Tony-winning rock musical. RENT began as an updated, modernized version of the opera La Bohème, but it took on a life of its own and became about, in Larson's own one-sentence description, "a community celebrating life, in the face of death and AIDS, at the turn of the century". The story of RENT's evolution is almost tumultuous and emotional enough to be the plot of its own musical, culminating in the Larson's sudden, improbable, impossibly-ironic death from an undiagnosed aortic aneurysm the day of RENT's off-Broadway opening. He never got to read the critical acclaims, witness the development of the cult following, or see the fans camped out for cheap tickets outside every venue. Nevertheless, I guess you could say he has quite a legacy -- RENT is still being performed at the Nederlander Theatre in New York, and Drew Lachey, front man for 98 Degrees and brother of the illustrious Nick Lachey, has recently joined the cast. (Whether that's a good thing or not, I really couldn't tell you.)

The RENT tour's stop in at Hamilton Place last night didn't have quite the same level of rabid-fan attendance as your average New York performance would, and I had the impression that at least some of the audience members around me were kind of confused by the whole thing. Much of the plot is, as I had suspected, revealed through the songs, making it a little difficult to catch what's going on at times. (Unless you're a big dork like me and know all the words before you go in.) But that didn't change the talent of the cast -- Mimi, Maureen, and Collins' voices were particularly impressive, although wholly different from those on the cast recording -- or the energy and passion of the show. It is, primarily, a show about embracing each day as it comes, about not poisoning the present with old regrets or fears for the future, and as such it draws you in moment by moment. Even if you wouldn't think, from your circumstances, that you could identify with any of the characters, the play makes it happen. Somehow. It's a young show about young people, and as such it's rawer, less refined, than most big-ticket musicals -- no fluffy costumes or coyness here at all. Just emotion -- joy, pain, loneliness, loss, love -- on display.

Showstoppers: Maureen and Joanne's spat-in-song, "Take Me or Leave Me", performed with impressive gusto; Maureen's protest performance, "Over The Moon", which brought down the rather-frosty house; all-out feel-good dance fest "La Vie Boheme". And of course "Seasons of Love", which is the song people are most likely to recognize.

Really good, quieter bits: There was so much STAGING that I hadn't pictured, that was so interesting and added so much to the songs. Roger sitting alone in the middle of the stage, while the sounds of the "Will I?" round echo around him. The Joanne-Maureen/Roger-Mimi/Angel-Collins tryptich during "Without You", which I had always assumed was just a Roger-Mimi song. Lovely, powerful, and totally unexpected for me. Also, Mimi and Roger's "I should tell you" duet immediately following "La Vie Bohème" -- a delicate, sensitive performance.

Things I didn't totally like: The set had to be portable, and I guess there's some amusement value to having an "illegal wood-burning stove" be a garbage can with "HOT" written on it in red duct tape. I did find the set somewhat confusing, though, particularly during times when the whole cast was onstage but meant to be in very different locations. Maybe it's supposed to be?

One thing about RENT -- it makes you want to go see it again, almost immediately. Maybe I'll go back to New York...

~SQ