fantasy corner (this is going to be fun)

I, Alexis, am Queen of All. I am in the cavernous hall of my castle where I daily receive my advisors, sometimes dignitaries, et al. It's cold dark and damp. I am wearing a really comfortable floor length gown though and of course a huge blue velvet robe with the royal black-spotted white ermine trim. I am the Queen of All. My advisors and aides are all around me... I pull my robe very satisfyingly to me as it is really so damp dark and cold. The torches that light the room are a distance away and throw no heat, only flattering light.

Me, Queen of All: Does it seem less than befitting that the Queen of All suffers this morning from a hangover derived of consuming six corona lights and no dinner?

Advisor1: It does your Majesty!

Advisor2: How could this have happened your Majesty?!

Me, Queen of All: Well, it just happened. Relax- it happened and now you just have to chill a little this morning because I'm useless - capeesh?

Advisor1: Let your majesty please never say such a thing about her most perfect imperial self.

Me: Yeah you're right. Okay. We are ready to rule. Tell us of the principality of New York City and We shall make decrees.

Advisor2: Your highest holiest perfect, as you have ruled it, I shall now tell you of the advertisements currently on display in the cars of the N train running from Ditmars Blvd to Coney Island, this month of your excellent year two thousand and 9.

Me: Go.

Advisor2: Duane Reade, the pharmacy, has an ad up that shows a picture of the selfsame type of train car that the rider is in - featuring most prominently the pole that riders must hold as not to fall while the train is in motion.

Me: I'm familiar. Go on. Text?

Advisor 2: There is text. It reads 'there are a gazillion germs on the pole that you're holding".

Me: Not, "There are, like a gazillion germs on that pole that you're holding"?

Advisor2 (very flustered): your majesty, I,... I just... I don't for certain recall, I...

Me: Why do I have advisors if you can't even recall the very things I need you to recall for my daily briefing and consequent judgement?

Advisor2: It is so very shamefull your Highness.

Me: Well it's alright this time. I know my judgment irregardless. Where is the executive advertisement team that created this? Bring them in.

(without fanfare, the executive team is brought in before Me)

Me: I sentence you all to death. It is that simple and if I needed to be sorry, ever, in this life, this might be a moment in which I would feel that - it is, at any rate, irrelevant. To be clear, you know that under my reign there is a zero tolerance policy for confounding obnoxious subway promotions that, if they could think would think they were cute. They are never cute. Of course there are millions of germs on the pole. You executives well know, educated as you are, that it's a matter of the immune system being able to fight all those itty bitty germs that are unintegrated into a larger organism -- such have people lived in filthy New York for all the years New York has been there. Well I shan't waste my breath. You knew the rule. You broke the rule. And now you die. Problems and complications arrising from your death I will rule on as they arise and no earlier. Face Death bravely. You shall have a last meal.

(they are led out)

Advisor1: are you comfortable your majesty?

Me: Yes very. Well I want lunch.

Advisor1: yes we've already called for the chilled roasted red pepper vich....

(Advisor2 frantically waves his arms for Advisor1 to stop speaking)

Me: What is it?

Advisor 1: your most holiest majesty - they are not serving roasted red pepper Vichysoise today... (he offers his neck for his head to be cut off)

Me: (I reach for my scepter) Kindly remove your neck from the boards before my feet. No matter what I do, I will always be surrounded by fools. I'm not going to kill you over the vichysoise. But MARK THIS DECREE: ALWAYS PREPARE THE VICHYSOISE.

Advisor1: Please most blessed perfect one: I am so curious... I must know... why are you so generous charitable beautiful?

Me: No one knows. Act of God.

Advisor1: Oh it is certainly so. And... and your majesty -- why are you so particularly forgiving generous magnanimous to a point approaching the most pure and holy... when it comes to Hale and Hearty Soup.

Me: Oh I've told you a hundred times you imbecile, you fool, you wretched dog: because they are nice there. And half the soups, and there are many, are delicious. Send them a letter. Tell them this. And of course the decree. For them I've done the unthinkable : I have ordered a decree twice.

Advisor2: Yes your most perfect beautiful majesty.

XOXO
Alexis

I may start wearing a pillow under my shirt and drawing on an eyeliner mustache and you can call me Alceste

I did "The Misanthrope" in college freshman year. I don't remember any of my lines. I didn't have the female lead. I was a reporter on celebrities and it would be weird if I remembered my lines because it was an updated piece, and my lines were probably the furthest from Moliere's perfect stuff. They were more these monologues that had to reach orgasmic climaxes of thrilled tabloid-news gathering, and that's all I can tell you.

Anyway, I also don't remember because my memory's not that good. There's only one line I remember and that's to come...

I was thinking about the Misanthrope this morning because I am one. I was trying to remember the plot. I should probably read it (but how can I read when I need to write?! ... and go to work! ... and date! - time to date before someone else gets my boyfriend!) :) because all I got is vague memories of this updated version where Alceste never changed? Has no arc? That can't be right. He must not love the girl at the beginning. Anyway, at the end he definitely loves her, as does all society, but he still hates all society, and pleads with her to come away with him and she says:

"I'm only twenty! I'd be terrified...
Just you and me and all that countryside..."

Isn't that the prettiest? I defy you to ever forget that line. It's perfect. It's in every version. I think I've checked at some point. The cadence of it makes for the easiest comedic inflection/ expression into "you" and "me" .. it's just a perfect rhyming line.

It takes time to come around to you and me and all that countryside. And in The Misanthrope it takes not a particular penchant for the bucolic, but instead an unequivocal acceptance of one's own disgust. Of course this girl is totally lost to Alceste. She's the toast of the town. How is she going to walk away from that?

Good play. Columbia's doing it somewhere now. Jeez can I bring myself to buy a ticket from Columbia when they always reject me? sigh...I probably can...

XOXO

status

... has obviously been so paranoid because has herself been so judgmental. Feels repentant. Feels sorry.

okay okay New York New York alright alright

Well I'm back in my city, freaked out paranoid at work and bigmouthed to my own detriment as always. New York Innovative Theater Nomination Party last night. Felt really awkward somehow but theater, and esp. theater party-going, often does - apparently I seemed obviously dissapointed that I wasn't going home with anyone at the after-drinks. Ok, Embarassing. Oh and introduced myself to the literary director who I interviewed about my play with a day or two before Italy (and have met numerous times) because she'd changed her hair and there were so many people and I wasn't thinking. It's like le semaine de faux pas. I feel like I should have been consulting my horroscopes in the mornings this past week or something. What am I doing?

A) I'm getting reeeallly misanthropic. B) people are getting even worse.


I went for cigarettes an hour ago. At the newstand a guy was picking a drink. The man behind the counter told him to leave the fridge door closed while he was choosing. I kinda made a little in-the-know this-guy's-a-little-controlling face at the guy at the fridge. I don't know why. Just faces, making faces. The guy made a big fight out of it then though and it ends with "...faggit! I know when you close here too..." "Asshole!" and then the guy threw his cranberry juice on the sidewalk in anger throwing away the entirety of what he'd just bought. People are all weird this week.

I'm going to internet date when I get around to it again this summer to make sure at the least there's some sex happening. If I really like the person I won't have sex on the first date. That's that strategy in a nutshell - as you know talk of strategizing makes me upset.

Love my friends. Kind of unsure where I stand with theater company. I'm pretending I'm into awards and I'm really not at all into awards. Maybe I shouldn't p[retend stuff. Should shouldn't everyone weird, people just awful. In its own way a beautiful city. The End.

Can I keep him?

I've been sending my travelogue of Italy to KFR- but only got as far as our last night on the island of Ischia in a mad desire to communicate how adventuresome, romantic, and at times outside of reality, dramatic and insane it all was. This picture has some great scenery in my opinion but Ischia is a lush volcano top in the mediterranean-- a normal person would probably have some pictures of that scenery up here too, but I prioritized. ;)

So I could post those travelogue-y emails but KFR thinks I should turn them into off-the-cuff romance novels quick and start making some money off this whole loggorhea of mine. I think my ideas lose energy when I blog them. It's weird how I can have overexposure to my own thoughts and excitements. So at least for now I am not blogging up the Italian adventure. I am turning it into a romance novel and I expect KFR will not be welching on editing.

I missed you. This was a really great thing for me this trip. Travel is like more fun prozac I think KFR.

love and love and love and love
A