(no subject)
Last night I went back to Wesleyan for the first time since graduation last May. I wasn't particularly looking forward to dragging my ass back up there, but literally every member of The American Story Project who has not graduated college yet was involved in Big Love, the faculty theater show, so it was essentially a requirement that I go. Jess agreed to drive if we all took the train to Scarsdale, there was a crew of us going, and all in all, it was a painless way to get there and back over the course of an evening.
The weather was lovely, the car ride was rockin' (I don't care what you say, Motown songs that everyone knows the words to are superior road trip music), we picked up dinner from Typhoon and ate it in the CFA courtyard (with a quick trip into Usdan to steal plastic forks-- so shiny and nice!), and saw probably my favorite faculty theater production ever at Wesleyan. It was funny, it was sexy, it had songs and dances, it had amazing performances from the actors who are actually part of my theater company, and it was just fun. Sometimes plays can be fun to work on as well as fun to watch. I forget that sometimes.
All in all, a nice visit. I stopped thinking of Wesleyan as any kind of home a long time ago, but being back was comfortable and pleasant and filled with enough familiar faces to be like a little reunion. And just the sheer pleasure of being outdoors on a spring evening without paranoidly watching my purse-- that's a small pleasure I'd entirely forgotten about.
The weather was lovely, the car ride was rockin' (I don't care what you say, Motown songs that everyone knows the words to are superior road trip music), we picked up dinner from Typhoon and ate it in the CFA courtyard (with a quick trip into Usdan to steal plastic forks-- so shiny and nice!), and saw probably my favorite faculty theater production ever at Wesleyan. It was funny, it was sexy, it had songs and dances, it had amazing performances from the actors who are actually part of my theater company, and it was just fun. Sometimes plays can be fun to work on as well as fun to watch. I forget that sometimes.
All in all, a nice visit. I stopped thinking of Wesleyan as any kind of home a long time ago, but being back was comfortable and pleasant and filled with enough familiar faces to be like a little reunion. And just the sheer pleasure of being outdoors on a spring evening without paranoidly watching my purse-- that's a small pleasure I'd entirely forgotten about.