Thursday, December 31, 2009

Snack Your Bon Bon.

I am going to write a retrospective. But I need to eat some cheese and crackers and head to a party. So until then, I say farewell to the 00s with this,


Happy New Year and New Decade, friends, lovers, and friends and family and friends.

Tuesday, December 29, 2009

Crafty Snack

Wrapping Pretty Presents!

Making Nameplates!

Asshole Millinery!

Wine Crate Dream Bookshelf!

Wednesday, December 16, 2009

Tuesday, December 15, 2009

My Love My Life Snack

I wish I could find my Deep House Dish clips but they seem BANISH'ED

Tuesday, December 8, 2009

Jumbo Snack Pack: Two Entries in One

There is smoke, or steam, or something just so, rising always from the building across the street from me. It is a self-proclaimed Ironworks, which recalls a time when all businesses were suffixed with the word "-works." Waterworks, Metalworks, Widgetworks, Cabinetworks. I am just kidding. There was no such time. There may have been, but I don't know enough about it to make such a generalization!

I have no curtains yet in my new apartment. Yes! I moved. To Brooklyn, land of Kings. And my apartment lies inside one Castle, and I could not be happier in it. These last few weeks have been some of my busiest, which is a loud a brash statement to make at 3:35 on a Monday, but as you can see, I've naried with my blog posts, and they've been like Tim & Eric movies so it's not even some writing. I have to pick out a paint yet, and get my dresser and wine crates, and the curtains, yes, but it's all coming together nicely and neatly.

I like having an above ground train; it usually propels me to read oftener than its below-ground counterparts. Below ground, all I can do is sit and stare or be with music. Reading underground makes me feel weary. I read faster and more productively in natural sunlight, perhaps.

I was in a reading over the weekend, at Fresh Ground Pepper's final event of the year. We did 6 plays in 2 days, all with different casts and directors and playwrights. It was a blast, and it was in Brooklyn, so I got to walk there and back and get a cheesesteak.

I have hosted Speeddating events on pretty much every Sunday night since early June of this year, and this past Sunday we had a very rough one. Everyone was out of sorts and taking it out on me; it escalated in intensity and ridiculousness to the point that some lady yelled "I'm a lawyer!" in my face in order to, I don't know, beat me into validating her fears about life and love? I survived the barrage of angry women hurling their condescension at me, holding their Real-Life Jobs and Real-World Experience over my head like it's my fault that they are even at this event--when all I'm doing is, you know, ringing a bell so guys can rotate and doling out spring rolls and just being really nice to everyone so that maybe they'll be really nice to each other and maybe get over the Hurdle that is Putting Yourself Out There In Order To Get To Know Someone, helping them maybe have the courage to sit with a stranger for a few minutes and maybe possibly find a connection--I survived it, sure, but by the end I was feeling really low.

Dejected and tired and very starving, I shuffled into a pizza place pre-train and I met a fellow from Dallas. He was a Cowboys fan (blech) but we sat with each other and ate our pizza, I told him about my horrible night and he told me about his pretty good one, and we exchanged conversation about hobbies and jobs and salsa dancing and sports and growing up in the Southwest. And he told me something I hear so often, something I have heard from quite a few people lately in various contexts and degrees: You can only have as good a time as the goodness you put forth. You can only find love if you give love to the world. If you go into a situation with a negative energy, you will partake in a negative outcome.

You know, blah blah, The Secret, blah Oprah blah. I think it's true, though, I really do. I could have been weirded out by this guy who approached me in a Ray's Pizza and not talked to him and left, and I would have gone home hungry, in a bad mood, without the reminder he so generously and warmly bestowed upon me.

It really lifted my spirits, making friends with this random guy. He's in my phone as "Adrian, pizza" and maybe I'll see him again, and maybe I won't, but either way, when I'm scrolling through my phone to text Amy or Andrew or Ashley, I will most definitely think of him, and our fearless non-missed connection, and his positive message.

Other Exciting and Happy Things of the Past Few Days!
- Hung out in Queenz with some dears and read a play and drank some wine/whiskey
- Ran into DC! In Union Square. He slipped his book in my bag and we caught up in seconds.
- Dad met Steven Gerrard and Michael Ballack, WHAAAA
- Swiped some dumplings at work today. Savory.
- I start rehearsals tomorrow for a production of Hamlet directed by my dear friend John that will be in February!
- A reading of a musical I am co-writing under the guise of lovely Rob Heller will happen on December 17th at The Cherry Pit!
- I asked for time off from work to go home for Christmas! Oh, and I'm handmaking my gifts this year, and they are baller.
- I have some inkling ideas for my Christmas card. Be ready for one, if I love you. I probably do.
- Tchotchkes

Monday, November 23, 2009

Sunday, November 22, 2009

What If Snack

An Open Invitation to the Petruseks: Brooklyn is calling you.

Tuesday, November 17, 2009

Sunday, November 15, 2009

Snack Up

This is what I discover with 2 hours of unplanned Snacktime to myself.

1. put second video on mute.
2. start first video
3. start second video immediately after.
4. watch second video.

very nearly perfect.

Sunday, November 8, 2009

Girly Movie Snack

So this guy came into work today..

Chances are 10 out of 10 of you have never seen this guy before. 11 of 10 of you wouldn't recognize his face or decide it was at all important. But I, however, saw his face, looked at it for probably too long, and subsequently placed it as "the face of the actor from 2005 romantic dramedy Prime" which I saw on a plane once and liked probably more than everyone else, ever. His character, in my opinion, was written purely with The Chicks in mind- like, he was perfect and yet he still had flaws? But like they were flaws that are inherent in all of us and thereby you know forgivable? But he, the actor, Bryan Greenberg, really gave a fresh performance. If I wasn't so worried of what people think of my opinions, I could use the word "transcendent." And he, the character, David, dates and just really really loves Uma Thurman's character, who has a really quirkyandunique name and is older than him. And Meryl Streep is his mom and her psychoanalyst, which provides the unnecessary romcom gimmick that the movie is based on. Of course, Mer is great and good as always. Really though, I just love the relationship between David and Rafi (see? I had to look that up, but it is full of quirk).

I found the movie on DVD at some store in Brooklyn that also sells a lot of Magic: The Gathering paraphernalia. It was three dollars so I bought it. I showed it to my roommates, who are both Chicks in their own right, and even THEY were like, "Jaclyn. Please." I'm really alone in thinking that this movie is Good with a capital G.

In the movie, they eat a lot of dinners. I think dinners are magical, and eating, and dinners with friends or dates. Cooking them, going out for them, trying new places, trying new foods, sampling many dishes, sharing many plates. My favorite dates include wine and full stomachs. I would name my Top 5, but that would require a lot of thought and I don't feel like letting a bunch of memories compete with each other internally! And it would make me hungry as shit. Anyway, that's probs part of the reason I loved Prime, because half of it was people in love eating and drinking and being merry, staring at each other over prosciutto in dim light.

In Summation: Saw a guy eating who was in a movie that I saw him eating in. La la la.

Tuesday, November 3, 2009

Sunday, November 1, 2009

Halloweiner Snack

This Halloween, I went dressed as A GIANT DICK. Just kidding! I had to work coat check for a party at my job and I had to be on a plane for some hours earlier in the day, so my costume-fashioning time was limited. There was a baby on the plane who was wearing a little skeleton costume and shoes that said BOO. He often squealed but I was surprised to find it quite endearing! Maybe you're like, oh sheesh, she's a girl, blah blah Biological Clock. One thing I hate is when women talk about their "biological clock." Actually, I don't hate it so much as I think it's annoying that the phrase "biological clock" is often accompanied by a knowing nudge or roll of the eyes. "My biological clock sure is ticking. Am I right, ladies?" Chortle chortle emphatic eyebrow NOD! Seriously, Ladies, am I right or am I RIGHT?

So for Halloween I had a bouquet of grapes, which was fun, and a hat. Laura was a giant martini. I also had like white stockings and black lacey boots and a funny smocky dress, so in my mind I was if Wednesday Addams was the girl in The Secret Garden if The Secret Garden took place in Italy rather than the moors of weird England. But that took too long to explain to the girls who went as sexy blah blahs and needed me to check their coats for them.

While I was home, I hung out with my broseph, Boopsie, who has the same hair and general catalogue of stances that I do. We had wings with another set of siblings, the Petruseks, who should have a techno side thing called PetruSexxx, and who resemble each other in hair, gait, and demeanor. The four of us together make up a combination so potent that if we turn on each other it will be like some Hatfield v. McCoy type SHIT, but since we all dig each other's vibes and smell what we are collectively cooking, it's a pretty sweet set up like generally you know?

My friend Amy bought a dog that looks and acts a lot like me, so hopefully the Petruseks have a best friend who has a dog that looks and acts a lot like them, or else Boops and I are one-up on those guys. Game, set, MATCH.

On a harmonious note,
Some things happened on this trip home that really warmed my heart and brought me joy. The past month or so has been BUSY and stressful sometimes! But it also is a dream, just a dream. Everyone be safe and healthy and joyous. Yeah, I just got serious, seriouser than Dicks and PetruSexxx, in any case. But you may forget how lucky we are to live, and laugh, and love others, and tell others you love them, and taste cheese, and read a good sentence, and take a deep breath and let it out again, and giggle aloud at private thoughts, and shamelessly hit on your waiter, and do Cher impersonations, and drink refills of Pink Lemonade FOR FREE, and quote Casablanca with your mom inside Banana Republic while trying on a very trenchy trenchcoat, and feel your best friend's mom's boobs, and eat part of your balanced dorm breakfast, and sing, and read old yearbook quotes aloud only to realize that you've pretty sharply predicted the future. See people you haven't seen in five years. Play with their kids. See where you've all gone, know that you're all going so much farther. Wonder why you have more than two friends moving to Lincoln, Nebraska. Listen to Howard Stern with Dad, listen to Oma's stories about her Oma, fall asleep on the couch in the living room in clothes.

Tuesday, October 27, 2009


seein dese guys in phoenix tomorrow

Sunday, October 25, 2009

Dad Snack

My dad's in town for his 40-year high school reunion. Well, he's not in my town, at the moment, my town being New York City I suppose. He's currently in Clark, NJ, the place where he grew up after being born in Elizabeth and moving away from Garwood and saving the kid who fell through the ice pond and walking that duck on rollers all the way across town and sometimes I get his life story mixed up with that kid from A Christmas Story, but I know for a fact that when he was little, the world was in Technicolor. And kids on TV shows were named Tommy and Beaver. And my grandmother's German accent was as strong as it is now. Anyway, he will be there tonight and he'll be back in New York City tomorrow night, after "going to the party at Cal's place and sleeping at Randy's parents' house," which leads me to believe he's picking up where he left off at age 18. He met The Boss like four times, always brags about jamming with him, though the truth behind that stretch-ed lie is never boiled down completely. Apparently he and Randy burned a building down accidentally once. Some things are too perfect.

I reflect on my own time in high school, a time when I totally lacked confidence or interest in tanning, two things that, at the time, seemed to run rampant around me and signify my own blaring insignificance. While I now have confidence (what a funny thing to acquire! it's not like i can chart it over time, it's the opposite of nickels in a jar, i can only measure my successes in looking back and knowing how lonely and true it felt!), I still lack interest in tanning, and I still hate doing things to my hair to make it look nice. And I still daydream a lot, and I still listen to some of the same songs, and I still love a lot of the same dear hearts I knew and trusted and confided in back then. I still like a lot of the same movies and I still quote most of them like we used to. I think I still have my old ID? In three pieces and taped. Found my Yellow Boat and Charlie Brown tshirts in my tshirt drawer when I was on a laundry prowl. I have my favorite Beatles poster, the Hard Day's Night one, hanging in my room in New York. Lots and lots of pictures of Amy and I, making faces or pointing at things or wearing wigs. Sunil's cackle. The Bell Jar, and Dickens.

Little and big things stay the same inside the person growing, up and down as my heart beats, a lot of confusion that in time yielded to hindsight and clarity and still-so-young. Things are never linear and we look back and them and put them that way. I still feel all sorts of the same way in glimpses and glimmers. People change and they don't change and stories lie in how those dos and don'ts are.

A picture of my parents on their wedding day, 1983. They were together for nine years before they got married. Met in college in California. She in a shortish white dress. He in a tux and checkered Vans. You can take my dad out of Jersey, but you can't take the Jersey out of my dad.

Saturday, October 17, 2009

My Cousin, The Snack

sometimes some things are not as loud as silence. i got a fortune cookie that said that once. once was yesterday. today in my life i sounded my own fortune, it said, today is a day you will be inspired by friends. those friends are friends that do what they love, and well. they work with things they love and dance with people they love and tell those they love that they love them. and there was no silence, only loudness. and no solemnity, only celebration. and only dancing, and shaking, and cheering. it's lovely to watch people do what they love, and well. it's cool when there is someone who majored in Guitar.

yay for friends who are old friends, bookends

Tuesday, October 13, 2009

Sunday, October 11, 2009

Train Snack

I arrived home this evening to cheese on my stairs. And broken balloons; these two things lead me to believe that I was not invited to a party someone threw for me.

On the train, I noticed a nebbish sort reading the Real Estate section of the Times next to a graying woman reading The New Yorker. Feeling inclined to join the club without making aware my infiltration, I stood over them and read each upside down. There was a gap between the two readers where the rest of the man's Sunday Times lay. I watched helplessly as the fat woman from the next stop sat upon it. The man ran his hands through his nebbish light brown hair; he was mourning the loss of five dollars and copious amounts of untapped knowledge. He never complained. The fat woman did not realize she was sitting on paper instead of a seat. The woman with the New Yorker was too busy reading the blurb about Madeleine Albright's fine brooch collection to notice the debacle, or even her incidental subway-intellectuals-club membership, or even that I was reading upside down over her.

I felt an affinity to the nebbish man. I felt it first when I noticed that he wore corduroys, and second when I saw he read about apartments he could never afford, and third when I empathized for his loss of five dollars and copious amounts if untapped knowledge. The fourth and most important moment was when, at the stop on 59th street, the woman with the tiny head and the gigantic puffy coat came on. The puffy coat, it was a Northface, it made her tiny head look even tinier. I had to stifle a laugh. I noticed him do the same.

He left the train, then, and I silently wished him well. He left without his paper, which was still underneath the fat woman. He is probably a writer, as he was equal parts nebbish and observant. I have noticed recently that one moment you realize you feel an affinity for someone is the moment when they walk out of a room and you feel you still have something left to say.

Wednesday, October 7, 2009

Monday, September 28, 2009

Thursday, September 24, 2009


As you may or may not know, I am acting in a play that opens this Saturday at The Cherry Pit called The Theatrical Assembly of Self-Realized Animals Presents OUR FARM. I love this play and the people involved with it, and I sincerely hope you can attend. The tickets are onsale now through (just search for OUR FARM and there they will be!). Go HERE to learn more about the show. Here's a google map so you can find the theatre.

If you can come this Saturday, it would be amazing! We have some reviewers coming, and you could definitely help us show them a good time :) If not, then next week is good too.

The Theatrical Assembly of Self-Realized Animals Presents

Our Farm

by Andrew Farmer

directed by Andrew Neisler

Featuring: Jaclyn Backhaus, Nigel DeFriez, Grace Folsom, Rafael Goldstein, Alex Johnson, John Kurzynowski, Max Reuben, Claire Rothrock, Ryann Weir, and Alyssa Yackley

Set Design by Karina Martins

Costume Design by Ellie Famutimi

Lighting Design by Gloria Johnson

Sound Design by Rob Ribar

Projection Design by Andrew Scoville and Jonathan Solari

Stage Management by Jes Levine

Produced by Cat Machak and Emily Hammerman in association with The Centrifuge

at The Cherry Pit, 155 Bank Street, New York

Saturday, September 26

Wednesday, September 30

Thursday, October 1st

Friday, October 2nd

Saturday, October 3rd



Tickets are only $15

go to for reservations

Happiness Snack

A pillow I saw at Rob's Grandma's house yesterday

Friday, September 18, 2009

Outlying Snack

Everyone is possessed with an innate and natural talent for something. For some it's very specifically one thing, for others it may be quite a few. I finished The Outliers by Malcolm Gladwell earlier this summer, and in it he expounds upon the magic 10,000 Hours-- the number of hours it takes of practice, experience, pure and sheer work on the thing at which you will excel. The Beatles logged about 10,000 Hours in Hamburg playing cover songs 6 nights a week in skeazy nightclubs, testing and setting new limits in their ability to experiment with several musical genres, all before "Love Me Do" in 1962. Bill Gates worked as a programmer for some computer test center while he was still in high school, and he logged 10,000 Hours doing that before Microsoft was even a twinkle in his nerdy bespectacled eye. Da Geniuses of Da World, it seems, do what they love and love what they do so much and so passionately, that it is no problem for them to reach that number, and subsequently reach greatness.

For all of the kids my age, the ones who went to my school and majored in Theatre: I calculated that, assuming that you did drama club or theater company or whatnot for all four years of high school, and assuming that you did studio all four years of college and maintained a heavy evening presence throughout rehearsing on the 2nd floor of Tisch, and assuming that you have worked rather steadily (not insanely either, like, a bundle of hours of rehearsal/theatrical endeavour a week) since you've graduated, that we have all surpassed the 10,000 Hour Mark sometime this summer, or we will be doing so this fall.

So, Congratulations. You are on the fast track to becoming a Bona Fide Creative Genius, and according to the aforementioned existing models, we have all the right to change the world . Keep doing what you love and Loving what you do. As my brother said when he visited this summer, "Watching you guys find time to do what you love just because you love it, it's like watching the future of stuff."

The only thing I've logged as much time or more on as this is probably investing myself in fictional love stories, which may or may not hold as promising or lucrative a future.

Thursday, September 17, 2009

Babe-Z Snack

I made the Yankee hat more famous than a Yankee can.

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

Muriel Barbery's new book is out in the US and I am excited.

"Proust's infamous madeleine cannot hold a candle to the lush, winsome memories of meals past that you'll find in Muriel Barbery's Gourmet Rhapsody. M. Pierre Arthens is France's premier restaurant critic—so premier in fact that he's simply called the MaĆ®tre—and we meet him as he lies in bed, waiting to die. Fervently he mines years of gastronomic delights and discoveries in search of one single flavor, one that he says is "the only true thing ever accomplished." What unfolds—in vignettes narrated by him and by a chorus of his familiars (most human, some quite comically not)—is a portrait of a man in thrall to the very ingredient that makes French cuisine so inescapably, ecstatically, seductive: It's not cream, nor cognac, but the cook who defines those glorious tastes. 'The only true work of art, in the end," he says, "is another person's feast.' " --Anne Bartholomew,

It reminds me of THIS. haha. spoiler alert? Who hasn't seen this movie?

Ratatouille is my favorite Pixar. I mean, I loved Wall-E, but something speaks to me in this particular movie. And by "something" I mean cute rodents talkin and french food.

Sunday, September 13, 2009

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

Sunday, September 6, 2009

My Job Snack

I make signs. Signs like this. HOW CAN MY LIFE GO WRONG

Saturday, September 5, 2009

Toto Snack

I legitimately may have already Snacked this. I can't remember off the top of my head. But if I have, I will feel no shame. I will only bask in the glory that is something great enough to hypothetically warrant TWO Snackages.

Thursday, September 3, 2009

Dad Snack

The way he talks about things, he could be my dad.

Wednesday, September 2, 2009

Friday, August 28, 2009

I'm Sunil's Mom Snack

Aj is a train wreck. Nick doesn't have a solo in this, so. Not my fave.

Thursday, August 27, 2009

Busyness Snack

I am flitting around breathlessly!

On a half-hour break from my one-week stint as a postcard distributor, I called my dear friend Chuck The One From Nebraska and we began organizing a last minute road trip to Arizona to visit our dear friend Amy, with a pitstop in Las Vegas to help my father with a giant athletic expo he's involved in. It seemed so impetuous that my revisionist memory of it has us screaming frantically at each other into the phone: "I'VE NEVER BEEN WEST OF COLORADO." "OF COURSE I'LL MAKE PLAYLISTS FOR THE CAR." "YES YES MY DAD WANTS US BOTH IN VEGAS BY THE 22ND THERE WILL BE SPORTS PEOPLE THERE!!!" "OKAY I'LL TALK TO YOU SOON OKAY BYE."

And then a day later, I'm cast in a show the same week as the expo and a wrench is thrown into the whole of my haphazard planning. Not really a wrench, as I fully intend to go back to Phoenix after the show is over. But no more Vegas, and probably no more road trip. It's also not really a wrench because thrown wrenches usually hold negative connotations, and I am really, really excited about this show.

And then a day later, I'm in the middle of suburban Queens holding iced tea and a pizza, rehearsing for my one-woman show in-development entitled "Carol Channing Sings Sublime's Greatest Hits and Maybe Some Songs from Les Mis" and playing the Wii and nestling Says Scoville and finally realizing after ten years that THE BUTTHOLE SURFERS sing that song about the water flowing like an avalanche, coming down the mountain!!! And falling asleep on Stevo's mom's bed.

And then a day later, quitting my job as a postcard distributor by calling 3 minutes before I'm supposed to be there. And seeing 2 of 201 shows in the New York Fringe Festival. The first one caused even Drew Vanderberg to call Scoville weird. The second had a dead thing in it. I was tickled and thrilled and prouded by both!

And then a day later, eating amuse-bouche and soft cheese and wine with an old friend/ a bookend, and making my own bruschetta. And then a day later, happy hoursing and chatting wildly. And then a day later, it's now. And I will send my script out tonight for Fresh Ground Pepper. And I will remember that if Stefan wasn't gay, he'd be Dawn's boyfriend. And I will continue to <3 symbols and collecting things from the street. And I will continue to remember why I'm here. And I will continue to hand draw birthday cards for my friends. And I will send care packages to my Amy (no candles this time), and dear AJ newly Scotlanded and my Boopsie newly colleged. And I will continue to filch fortune cookies from work that say things like

"Someone will invite you to a karaoke party."

"Your happy heart brings joy and peace where there is none."

"Your individuality provides a light to others."

"On the right track, means need to run even faster, or got run over."

Tuesday, August 25, 2009

Old Snack

I Love Old Things
by Wilson MacDonald

I love old things:
Streets of old cities
Crowded with ghosts
And banked with oranges,
Gay scarfs and shawls
That flow like red water.

I love old abbeys
With high, carved portals
And dim, cool corners
Where tired hearts pray:
I join them in the silence
And repair my soul.

I love old inns
Where floors creak eerily
And doors blow open
On windless nights,
Where heavy curtains
Dance a slow waltz.

I love old trees
That lift up their voices
High above the grasses.
They do not sing
At the light wind's bidding:
They chant alone to storms.

I love old china,
Knowing well the flavour
Of great, strong men
And fair, sweet women
Lurks at the rim
Of each deep brown bowl.

I love old books
Frayed from the searching
Of truth-hungry fingers:
Their warm, soft vellum
Leads me up through sorrow
Like a dear friend's hand.

I love old men
And old, dear women
Who keep red cheeks
As the snows of winder
Keep the round red berry
Of the winter-green.

I love old things:
Weather-beaten, worn things,
Cracked, broken, torn things,
The old sun, the old moon,
The old earth's face,
Old wine in dim flagons,
Old ships and old wagons--

Old ships and old wagons
Old coin and old lace,
Rare old lace.

Found in Achievement: A Literature Text for High Schools, 1930.

Sunday, August 23, 2009

Monday, August 17, 2009

Saturday, August 15, 2009

Friday, August 14, 2009

Weekend Writing Retreat, Part I

Listening to a girl blow on piano. Sitting by a river in the oldest private swim club in America? There is a vending machine with 85-cent-beers. Jimmy Buffet happened, most definitely four rounds of "Margaritaville." I drank a bug, WHOOPS. Precious Boating Children. Pool, and pools. That train is SO CLOSE. TO MY BODY. I'm gonna make a shirt. The musical will probably have cooking, and most definitely love. Duh. I'm writing it. With Alyssa. And Farmer, permitting. And then there's the band, the guy whose voice I heard on a CD and in real life! The roads are mystical and surrounded by green. This is new to me, and fulfilling the lack of green in my relatively desert-focal childhood. I was very bad at soccer!


"What about WHEN I COME AROUND???"


Someone left baby powder on the side table.

"My mind is telling me yes! But my wallet! My wallet is telling me no!" - FM

That reminds me of a birthday present I was set to give and still have time to make! I will hand deliver it to Scotland, covered in brown paper, tied with a ribbon or a string of some sort.

I met a man on the side of the road. We shared Cheez-its and stories of world travel. He lives in Bordeaux, which is a wine place. I gave him my ugly business card; it was before I got my new flashy better business card.

There is a British girl who is a girlfriend, her name is Jess.

"What's the baby powder about?"

"I dunno. But I wrote about it. On my blog."

Wednesday, August 12, 2009



hey! look! i'm holding kate hudson!

Tuesday, August 11, 2009

To Snack List

I have a lot of things to do. They are all sort of floating around in the ether around my brain, and occasionally I will reach out and catch one! And of course, by writing here, I am putting one or three off for a few minutes more, but what am I if not a glorious and unashamed procrastinator?

Here they are!

1) Pick up my pretty dresses from the tailor. I got some things tailed, including the Classic Freshman Year Dress.

2) Buy a GRE book. And study! I am unofficially taking the test on October 24th!

3) Three weeks to finish my screenplay. It will be so by September 1st!

4) Get ready for Philadelphia this weekend! A city I have never known! And The Prometheans, and writing and swimming and musicking.

5) Learn French again for maybe a new job!

6) See the like 8 shows my friends have in The Fringe!

7) Sort through the FGP Submissions for September! And the coming months.

8) Clean my room and get ready for a. Yael coming back! and b. my cousin Sheena visiting!

9) See one of those Cary Grant Movies at BAM

10) ____________________________________