Month: November 2008

Jury Duty

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This is what they give you when you perform your civic duty.

You are told not to put it in the dishwasher unless you want a plain white mug.

Perhaps what I’ve gotten from jury duty is that you can lie, thieve and deceive people, but Johnny Law usually has his way. Because everybody gets sloppy.

I think I want to re-read Twelve Angry Men. I was in an all-female produuction of it in high school. And if my memory holds, this is really the same damned thing. Humanity crammed in a room to determine the fate of another human being. It is a beautiful if flawed system when the people weighing in on your fate are tired, hungry, either overworked to get to jury duty or starving because they can’t work because they are in said jury duty. Reading the paper, checking blackberries, taking a nap.

I listen to it all. I do. Because I hope someone would listen for me.


cluttered desks

have you seen these pictures of einstein’s desk?

it might make me feel a little better about the junkheap that is the left arm of my sofa which doubles as a desk.

carlaching2 Comments

have you seen these pictures of einstein’s desk?

it might make me feel a little better about the junkheap that is the left arm of my sofa which doubles as a desk.

assorted clutter:

some blank notebooks (gotten as gifts)
redacting tape (with the cartoon character pukka on it)
checkbooks
yearly planners from 2006, 2007 and 2008 (before i went digital)
a memory stick with the cap missing
an eyeliner pencil (rust)
the remote control to my mac
bills
more bills
old plane ticket stubs (united)
an old g-shock watch that needs a new band
various computer cords
post-its (yellow lined and purple, unlined)
a checklist
green sunglasses in a green case
gloves
a brown paper notebook from 2004
an unopened bottle of purple nail polish

the only thing missing is a half-eaten sandwich.

what’s on your desk?

Holidays Alone

Is their chosen aloneness an incredibly decisive act of self-determination?

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My TV is out tonight. Okay. So, I thought I might unwind and rest my head by listening to a podcast. Some radio.

You might have also listened to the November 17th version of “This American Life.” There is a story of a 79-year old woman named Maryann who walked into a hospital alone and died there. It follows the story of a young woman named Emily whose job it is to claim her things at the hospital, go through her house and figure out who to inform, how to find family or loved ones. This particular woman left nearly no personal items, but had a house full of things. She cocooned herself in this place.

They talk to her neighbors. They barely know her. The only clue is a 30 year-old Christmas card written from a man who claims he doesn’t know her until he realizes that she is in fact his great-aunt.

On her answering machine was the message, “This is a message from No Name, No Number, No Message, No Answer.”

I wonder if she was happy. I wonder if this was all exactly as she wanted it.

Then, there was a young man named Clevins who lived alone at 15. He spoke of the joy of being able to make up his own room after a nomadic childhood. After his mother got sick, he decided to not tell anyone about it so that he could avoid being put into the foster care system.

And I wondered, is this one of the last things that we can have any control over? Our home and when and under what conditions people enter our space. When we walk out into the world. And what the course of our path is. Is their chosen aloneness an incredibly decisive act of self-determination?

“Dear _________”

Write the letter you have always wanted to write.

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I did the following as a play for Dominic D’Andrea’s One Minute Play Festival a couple of weeks ago. I had audience members fill them out and then had a few of them read. It’s my take on a Mad-Lib play. So, now I’m throwing it out there. It came to me because a number of people were making me very angry and I wanted to tell them off. And I thought, wouldn’t it be nice if there were a form for that.

So, take your turn. Cut and paste it into the comment box and fill it out. Hit me back with your letters.

Write the letter you have always wanted to write.

Dear ____________,

This is to let you know that I am leaving you. You are going to ask, “Why?” And I will be honest. When you _________________(action), I feel like _______________________(adjective or similie or metaphor). When you _________________(action), my _________________(body part) _____________(verb). Your _________________ (person, place, thing, habit) and your ____________________(person, place, thing, habit) ______________(verb) me. But most importantly, when you __________________(action), I just don’t ________________(verb) you anymore. I hope you ___________________(verb). Maybe someday, __________________________.

(Please circle) Love, Sincerely, Best regards, Signed, Yours, With Regrets,

______________________(Your name)

Taking Over

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i was talking about this play with some partners in crime from the women’s project tonight about this show and i was thinking i should get the word out and ask people to go, if they can. there are even $20 rush seats. i know it’s a lot in these trying economic times, but it’s possibly the stuff of changing the status quo.

i am of course talking about taking over by danny hoch at the public theater. i think it’s really incredible that he’s taken a form he helped to popularize and really take on the gentrification of williamsburg, and really, this whole city. his performance is for the most part nuanced and when he does an entire scene as a dominican car service dispatcher and a developer, inspired.

i’ve been thinking that this is what theater is for–to ask difficult questions. and it is nice to see someone asking us all to consider the question though he does not have the answer either. what we need, what he begs us to do, is to ponder this together.