Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?

I read the play today. It's by Edward Albee. It's a little bit hard to understand, and afterwards you have to sit with it for a while before you start to understand it. But I liked it. This quote from it is on my mind right now:

...George who is good to me, and whom I revile; who understands me, and whom I push off; who can make me laugh, and I choke it back in my throat; who can hold me, at night, so that it's warm, and whom I will bite so there's blood; who keeps learning the games we play as quickly as I can change the rules; who can make me happy and I do not wish to be happy, and, yes, I do wish to be happy.

...whom I will not forgive for having come to rest; for having seen me and having said: yes, this will do; who has made the hideous, the hurting, the insulting mistake of loving me and must be punished for it.

...who tolerates, which is intolerable; who is kind, which is cruel; who understands, which is beyond comprehension...

beautiful three-legged dogs

Today I saw a woman walking a puppy. Not just any puppy, mind you. This puppy was happy like all puppies are, but this puppy had only three legs. And this puppy looked so happy and joyful, just hopping along, loving life and loving the walk he was on. It was as if he didn't even know he was missing a leg, or like dogs are supposed to have only three legs. It was so cool. And it was beautiful. I don't mean beautiful in the definition of the word the world has led us to believe, because by the world's standards, this dog was flawed, scarred, ugly, imperfect. Sure, God created dogs to have four legs, but this dog was God's creature, too. God loves this flawed, scarred, ugly, imperfect dog, just as he loves us, scarred, ugly, and imperfect as we are.

God loves you, and you are beautiful.

Lots of things on my mind today...

First: Being a director is hard sometimes, especially dealing with actors. I'm not going to say anything more specific than that, in an effort to be discreet, since this is a public blog. But sometimes it's frustrating.

Second: Shannon came to visit me here in Chicago from Thursday through Sunday. It was really nice seeing him and spending time with him. We didn't even really do anything special. We just hung out. We got dinner a couple times, we saw a couple of movies. We mostly just hung around the house, enjoying each others' company. And it was good. I really missed him, and I still do, now that he's back in Springfield. Before he came to visit, things were rough. I'm gonna be honest about that. We were both really busy, and we didn't get to talk to each other very much. And when we did talk, it was either for a few minutes at a time, or we were arguing. But when he was here, it was like we were us again. We were us, we weren't fighting...and it was so reassuring. Sometimes I have my doubts, but this trip made me so confident in us.

Third: No, I did not go to church yesterday (I know, on EASTER). Shannon and I went out for breakfast before he left (to PANERA, btw, their breafast sandwiches are AMAZING!). But after he left, I sat down with my bible and my journal and read the Crucifixion and Resurrection accounts from all four Gospels. Lent this year has gone by really fast. I've been so busy with school that I've hardly had time to take notice and reflect on it, so I'm really glad that I got time yesterday to think about it and spend time with God.

The part of the Resurrection that always stands out to me is the story in John of Mary Magdalene outside the tomb. She's so blinded by her grief that she doesn't see Jesus when He's right in front of her. And I think it's because that they (they meaning Jesus' followers) didn't really understand the things that Jesus was telling them about himself. They didn't understand that when He was crucified, it wasn't the end, that he would raise to life again. But why would they understand that? Why would a human being who was dead, who they themselves watched suffer an enormously painful death on the cross come to life again? The thought wouldn't have even occurred to them; in all their (and our) limited human understanding, they wouldn't have been able to understand of and concieve of such a concept.

And you know, sometimes I feel a lot like Mary outside the tomb. Sometimes I feel so blinded and caught up in all the stuff I have going on--schoolwork, my relationship, all my issues--that I...forget about Him. So this is what I thought about yesterday. And I prayed to God that I wouldn't let all of my stuff keep me from him and continue blinding me, and I asked for His help. Because there's no way that I'm going to be able to do it alone. Anytime I try something without Him, I fail.

Postscript: Comedy

So, my friend was wrong. My one-act is funny, dammit. I appreciate my friend's opinion, but I respectfully disagree. My one-act is funny. He doesn't know the show like I do. He judged it based on ten minutes. He saw ten minutes of downtime. It's a friggin Neil Simon comedy. It goes in hills and valleys. There's parts where they're running around all crazy and there's parts where they aren't. It's not farce: they're not going to be running around constantly for an entire act. I know the show. I understand the style. I understand the rhythm of the dialogue and action. I'm a damn good director. So there.

Comedy

So, apparently my one-act isn't funny. A friend of mine saw about ten minutes of it today and judged it based on that, saying it isn't funny. I think it's funny, although I do agree more could be done with it. He would have said it was funny if he had seen the part where they run across the bed. But I am actually starting to have a minor panic attack. It's too late in the game for me to be realizing now that there's a possibility that my comedy isn't funny. I'm starting to freak out a little bit. I'm in the process of going through the entire script and making notes about things that could be added or changed to make it bigger, funnier, more exaggerated. Maybe choosing a comedy was a bad idea... Or maybe I just need to realize that it's not necessarily the finish product that matters, although I do want to put forth a wonderful play. This class (Directing a One-Act Play) is about me learning and growing as a director. But I'm still scared.