Wednesday, November 15, 2006
It seems like last week that I started classes at this crazy law school place. Now there is one month till finals, and the tension is beginning to mount. Clearly I have some sort of attraction to high-stress living. First theater, now this.
One month to go means reviewing is becoming far more important than the current reading. It means people are beginning to measure themselves against each other. Not in the manner that took place the frst couple weeks: how do I stack up overall. Now it takes place in the much more limited context of: How much do you know. It's a disconcerting place to be in. Because the amount of material is almost endless. And the professors act like you're just fucking around and not even putting forth any effort if you aren't up on every detail. So it's hard not to feel under the gun sometimes. Pretty soon we're going to have to apply what we've taught ourselves in 3-hour essay tests that will determine our grades for the entire semester. Right. Brilliant.
The Havel fest is up and running and I have barely told anyone about it. My classmates keep threatening to show up. I wish they would.
I ran a 5k this past sunday. My legs are still sore. I looked back through this blog's archives and found that my time on sunday was almost identical to what I ran months ago in the Lincoln Tunnel Challenge. The difference is that the latest race, in Van Cortland Park was on amuch tougher, more hilly course. It felt good to get out there and do it. I've agreed to participate in a team race in a couple weeks. Maybe by then I won't be sore anymore.
Oh. I got a grade. Sort of. On my memorandum of law, which in final form is worth 40% of the grade, I got a 39 out of 40. So I think I have a decent grade locked up in Legal Writing, but there's no way to tell for sure what will come of it because the numbers are forced into a curve.
Poker tomorrow night. It'll be good for me to get my mind off things and focus on the bigger picture, like coming to terms with uncertainty and the gravity of avarice.
Sunday, November 05, 2006
One would think Havel Heaven would be in the Czech Republic, but, in fact, it's right here in NYC, at the Ohio Theater and Brick Theater, in SoHo and Williamsburg, respectively.
Even Kathleen Turner's doing a performance for the fest. I have no idea what it is or if it's good, but she's famous, ergo, it's awesome.
In some seriousness, I was at the opening of Largo Desolato last night, and it is wicked clever and every second has been invested with meaning. The play was written by Havel after an imprisonment and long bout of writer's block. When the dam burst, Largo came bursting forth. The translation is from Tom Stoppard, arguably the greatest living English-language playwright. Havel and Stoppard are a great match, and big ideas vie for control of the stage with patent absurdity.
I swear I would be this geeked about it even if I weren't part of the creative team. But I am and I am damned proud of this one. If you are in the area, you should come see it. If you are not in the area, well, I suppose you'll have to make do as best you can.
Largo Desolato at Untitled Theater Co. #61's Havel Festival.
Suck on that Noam.