did you actually think i'd go without updating? honestly...

i'm currently at conn. college, enjoying my brief hours of free time before dinner back at the o'neill (which liza and i have dubbed the one ill theater) and a show tonight--i have no idea of what i'm seeing, all i know is that i have to write a review about it tonight and probably stay up far too late. it amazes me how relative everything becomes at this type of workshop--last night, i was estatic because i was going to be able to get five hours of sleep. i'm looking forward to sleeping in sometime in august (ack--how horrible is that to say?).

so--it's my fifth day, and i've settled into the routine with relatively few problems. my actf experiences have actually set me ahead of some of my fellow critics--i'm accustomed (relatively speaking, obviously) to the schedule: workshops in the day, show at night, review writing after the show. hell, i've been doing that twice a year for two years now. the others, on the other hand, are exhausted (not like i'm not tired, but you know what i mean) and are complaining about the grind--albeit not too loudly. meanwhile, i'm sitting here wondering where the boot camp part of "boot camp for critics" is coming in. rhiannon said she had experienced the same feelings, so i guess that for all of the disadvantages actfers have in this environment (being significantly younger than one's contemporaries, for instance), it balances out.

i'm having an extremely enjoyable experience. while i'm used to the place now, i've retained my bit of awe--the people we're working with and the things we're seeing are extraordinary. on monday, we went to the monte cristo cottage--gene's boyhood summer home and the only real home he ever knew. it was the setting for "long day's journey into night," so that alone was a neat experience--trying to imagine eugene as a child there, maryella wandering the halls and whatnot. what made the event unforgettable was reading the stage directions at the beginning of the play. we all sat in a back room and took turns reading sections out loud--and realizing that the objects described were the same as the objects around us. of course it was set up that way by the o'neill people (the house is a museum now), but nevertheless, reading about the rocking chair with the leather bottom and realizing that i was sitting in it was trippy (i made everyone laugh by rocking in it and making it creak when we came to the point at which it was mentioned).

the talent here--directors, playwrights, actors, critics, technicians--is impressive, but it's not as if people are walking around saying, "why, hello lee blessing! how is the award-winning playwright doing this morning?" it's like, "hi, lee, how's it goin'?" i was walking out of the white house yesterday afternoon when he passed by (i hadn't been introduced, so i couldn't be like, "hey, what's up, lee?" but i have said hello in passing), so i smiled and he commented on my red sneakers, telling me that he liked them. i said thanks and kept walking, then paused for a moment. lee blessing likes my shoes! lee blessing knows i have these shoes! how the hell did this happen?

i've seen three readings, two staged and one cold--the cold reading has been my favorite as of yet. i completely lost myself in the words--it's a brilliant play and i'm looking forward to seeing how it develops in the future. and of course i'm keeping all of my playbills so that i can have a list of the people i saw here--they bring in some incredible people.

i'm still giddy about the fact that i saw daphne rubin-vega perform twice. mimi from the original "rent". !!!! and that i was at the company hour during which we were addressed by a.r. gurney. so cool...

much as i want to keep going on about the experience, it'll have to wait. i must return to the dorm, take care of my sunburn (only a light shade of lobster, but to be expected--all of our sessions are outside and there's not an incredible amount of shade) and relax before dinner.

revel. revelrevel.