Yeah.  You are. 

I just got back from seeing Patti Lupone in Gypsy. 

You know how sometimes something will get hyped and you think it couldn't possibly be as awesome as people are saying it is?  And how you're usually right, that it's not that great? 

Yeah, Ms. Lupone not only lived up to but exceeded my expectations.  If there has ever been a better Rose, I don't want any parts of it.  Something better than what I just saw would probably kill me. 

From the way she walked to the way she took up space to her acting to.  Her voice.  And not even her voice.  What she was able to do with it.  She managed with all of her performance but especially with her voice, to make Rose a person.  She never strayed into being a cariacature.  Rose wasn't just another pushy stage mother, a tired archetype.  No, Rose was a woman with something to prove.  Ms. Lupone's voice told that story, and I'm not just talking about how she spoke the words and sang the songs.  Rose's voice isn't all that strong, and it isn't smooth, and it isn't pretty.  Patti Lupone's voice is all of those things.  But her Rose had nothing to do with how pretty Ms. Lupone can make her voice sound and everything to do with who Rose was.  

I think Ms. Lupone's greatest accomplishment with Rose was that she made us understand why Herbie liked her and Louise deferred to her and why people kept listening to her.  Rose is charming and likable.  In moments with her daughters and with Herbie, Rose is persistently and joyfully affectionate.  There are a few times when Herbie says that he really likes Rose and that she's a great lady.  He says it, but Patti Lupone demonstrates it. 

She was so confident and so at home on the stage and in her heels and in her own skin.  (I'm talking about Patti Lupone here.)  She's so unbelievably talented, and she uses her talent to create a fantastic performance that has nothing to do with showcasing her talent.  It's all about telling the story.  I think that Patti Lupone is, then, a virtuoso storyteller. 

The fact that I don't believe there is a partner in my future has not, apparently, stopped me from sometimes hoping that I'm wrong.  Sometimes I'll see or hear or read something that makes my body remember how it feels to fall in love.  My chest tightens, my eyes widen, and my arms tingle and grow heavy.  I feel ill and invincible at once.  

Current Location:	Crazy Mocha, Shadyside
Current Mood:	contemplative
Current Music:	Bliss - Kissing

A few months ago I was at the reference desk from 9:00-10:00am. During that time I answered a few of the usual questions. "Where is this book? Where is the bathroom? Where is the computer lab?" That type of thing. It seemed like a normal, if slightly boring, desk hour.

My library school paper has taken over my life. Friends, colleagues and family members comment regularly that they're astonished to see me working hard on something school-related. Actually, I think they're surprised to see me working hard on, well, anything. I also have to endure teasing about how I'm probably only working this hard because I'm enamoured of my teacher. Well, that's just not true, except to the extent that she inspired me to try to write a good paper. At most, I have a case of hero worship. And, really, there's nothing new there for me. If I don't grow up and marry a teacher, I'll be shocked. SHOCKED.

• One black dog with a white muzzle.  He was nice.
• One squirrel who ran under a bush. 
  

Yesterday on my first walk to work I saw: