My Twenty-Something Quasi-Soap

it's almost 8am, and i've been wearing the same clothes for nearly 24 hours. yup, i pulled an all nighter...my last major paper of my undergraduate college career. it was pretty funny: i'm putting in my page numbers and coming up with a title. i'm listening to my 60's/70's hippie mix, and Age of Aquarius/Let The Sunshine In comes on. as the "let the sunshine, let the sunshine in..." part comes on, the sun breaks through the clouds and fills up my room. it was one of those quasi-religious sleep-deprived moments that i might never have again. but i did have to marvel in the beauty of it. :0) shoestring opens on saturday. it's almost done. i don't know whether i'll turn backflips or bawl my eyes out. maybe i'll just go to the bar and get totally piss drunk. that's always fun. so i have my typical college kid summer job lined up. i'll be training soon to be a bakery cashier at the cheesecake factory, one of the most hardcore

the home stretch...literally. in a week i'll be pretty much done with college for the time being. i don't know whether to frolic in the mind-numbing happiness of it, cry in the mind-numbing scariness of it, or just go on a bender and numb my brain. i'll probably do a mixture of all three. so i'm not going to be an actress anymore. when i grow up (which is rapidly approaching) i want to be a television network executive. i'd explain, but i'm too damn tired. i'm cold, i'm tired, i'm sick of worrying, i'm sick of people being sick, and i want to wake up tomorrow in my million dollar penthouse off Madison Avenue, have my limo pick me up at take me to Rockefeller Plaza where i will continue to improve the face of NBC and network television and television as a whole, in both business and art. *deep breath* so i shall sleep and dream of versace power suits, nielsen ratings, and variety magazine instead of red carpets, valentino gowns and the cover

Wilt thou be gone? It is not yet near day. It was the nightingale, and not the lark, That pierced the fearful hollow of thine ear. Nightly she sings on yond pomegranate tree. Believe me, love, it was the nightingale. Romeo & Juliet, 3.5.1-5 It's one thing when you can use a Motown song to explain how you feel. But if you wake up in the morning and say goodbye and all you can do is think about a scene from Shakespeare, you're either: a) hopelessly romantic b) hopelessly nerdy or c) a little bit of both *sigh* i need to get some more sleep.