SAINT MATTHEW

Sorry I haven't updated this lately, but every time I start typing something to put here, it ends up being about being worried about things related to going back to the States.

Mind you, I'm not nervous about it all of the time, but it seems like when I actually start to sit down to type, or when I start talking when I'm tired, that is what it ends up being about.

Incidentally, last night it was really late, and I was feeling worried about things in general, and then I had two glasses of wine.

This is a bad idea.

It's kind of funny that I spent several years researching the effects of alcohol, (granted, my research was limited to thermoregulation in recombinant inbred strains of mice and to the effect on hepatic and renal microsomes/endoplasmic reticulum/mitochondria when used chronically) and yet I'm completely clueless when it comes to most aspects of human consumption.

This is the second time I've had wine when I was feeling worried about something, and the second time it was a Really Bad Idea. I ended up being *really* scared and *really* worried--to scared and worried to sleep--and kept Matthew up until well after 4 am worrying and crying.

Matthew was wonderful. I mean, it's not very pleasant having someone keeping you up at 4 am. But he was reassuring and kind and everything. I think he should be nominated for sainthood.

I suppose Miracle #2 was taking me to the Globe Theatre. This is a reproduction of the theatre that William Shakespeare was in--the one his plays were originally performed in. We had tickets for the standing area in front of the stage, which is really the way you should see stuff here.

They were performing A Midsummer Night's Dream, and it was *fantastic*. The men were far better performers than the women--at least one of the women recited all of her lines in a sing-songy way that made the meter and rhyming obvious and irritating, like she was at a poetry reading. But the men were pretty much all really good, and it was staged interestingly.

Mark Rylance came up on the stage afterwards and mentioned that it was Founder's Night. The guy who envisioned the theatre and fought to see it built died before it was completed, and yesterday was his birthday.

It was really fantastic.

Matthew definitely should be nominated for sainthood.

Oh, by the way, I have a hangover today--probably the second of my life. And I have no idea what to do about it, although I have now been told to drink water.

Crazy!

BEANS AND BOYS

All right, so far both Laura and Natalie have given me names for the little ceremonial cube of pork at the top of a can of Pork and Beans.

Laura informs me that in her house, they refer to it as The Queen Bean.

And Natalie correctly pointed out that since, "Chaderd...chaderd...if I am not very much mistaken, 'chaderd' is the Egyptian word for 'to eat fat,'" that either 'cha' or 'derd' must be the correct word.

There is a woman standing outside the Internet cafe, who looks so much like Charity that I have had a hard time convincing myself that it is not her. I know she is in Spokane. I know this. And yet, this person looks *exactly* like her. The only reason I know it is not her is that I know for certain that Charity is not here. This is so weird.

Incidentally, I am wearing an old sweater of Charity's today. It is grey cashmere--please thank her for it, Natalie. It is very soft and comfy, and has become a staple of my wardrobe in the last few days.

Doesn't 'wardrobe' sound so attractive and glorious? If you could see what I'm wearing, you'd laugh.

Anyway, Peter the housemate came back yesterday. Everything is doom and gloom as far as he is concerned, which is just par for the course. He was on vacation all last week. He had planned this week with a woman who he claims is "just a friend" which of course means that he has a thing for her.

At any rate, he got sick halfway through the vacation, and he said that he felt badly for her, but that he was glad she was there because she waited on him most of the time, making him meals and stuff because he was sick. Since his return, he has camped on the couch in bathrobe and with duvet, making miserable noises. I made him some tea and then left because he kept hinting at being taken care of, and I'm sort of wary of doing anything that might come off as too friendly.

So I've been here at this Internet Cafe, trying to convince myself to send off more resumes, which in case I have not mentioned, I am highly sick of. Sick sick sick sick. There was this brief period of time earlier when I was feeling really sad about having to leave here and go back to the US, but then Matthew called me and cheered me up.

He is being so nice, and I am so grateful. We're going to go see some Shakespeare next week, at an open-air theatre that is a replica of the one that his plays were originally performed in. This was his idea, and it just sounds so fantastic. The play goes on even if it rains, so I have to remember to dress appropriately.

He is being so nice.

Leave it to me to start falling for someone three weeks after we've broken up, and two weeks before I leave the country.

DREAMS

I suppose, like most people, I don't remember dreams that often. But for some reason, last night I had two dreams that are still with me today.

The second, which in retrospect is far less interesting than the first, was all about me redecorating the interior of a house. The prior occupants had covered everything inside with what looked like walnut-coloured panelling (although it turned out to be just a layer of paint that *looked* like panelling) and had stained the floor with a similarly caramel-coloured varnish. We poured a stain remover on the floor, and as it progressed in a line across the length, removing the stain, we were surprised to discover that underneath was the most beautiful tile work. The colors were bright and gorgeous, and we could tell that it was old and valuable.

Everything I redid in this house was the same way--all of the stripping and painting revealed that it was a beautiful place, and that the prior occupants had just covered everything with something ugly. There was one room, a little study, that had already been redone completely, and it was really pretty. It had some rose-colored stuff, and these chairs that had strange backs that looked a bit like rabbit ears. Of course, in the dream, it all seemed very beautiful.

Anyway, the first dream is much more entertaining. As a matter of fact, it's hilarious now that I'm awake.

I was onstage, clearly in rehearsal for some musical production. There were only four of us onstage, and I wasn't quite sure why nobody was upset with me for being there. I figured out that it was a first rehearsal, and we were doing blocking. However, I had not been blocked yet, I had just noticed something out of place behind this desk in what appeared to be an office in a high-rise, and I was tidying it up. They'd started rehearsing, though, and I wondered why the director or stage manager hadn't yelled at me yet for getting in the way.

One of the other people on the stage was Barbra Streisand. Within minutes, it became clear that we were doing a remake of The Sound of Music, and that Barbra was cast in the role of Maria. The director had decided that for this remake, the setting would be New York, and Maria was a very successful lawyer.

(!)

We were in Maria's office, and as I mentioned, I had seen something and was tidying up. Then, Barbra moved to the front of the desk, leaned back against it, and started singing, "The hills are alive."

Eventually I realized that I had to figure out what was going on and why nobody was upset with me, so I left the stage and wandered over to a post in the theatre, where a call list was posted. I read it and discovered that I had been cast in the role of someone called "Emily" (I think that was the name--it was a short "E" name, but may have been Erica) who must be someone in this new version. She was one of the more major characters, and I could only assume that she was in the scene that we were rehearsing, and so they just assumed that I was waiting for my blocking instructions.

I really, really wish that I had remained in this dream for long enough to discover how my brain would deal with setting The Sound of Music in New York with Barbra Streisand as the Lawyer Maria.

I really, really, wish I had.