Last day? Playwrights hit the beach.
Crowley is dead. Lauren…is happy?
It’s like 90210…with playwrights.
When you ask me what it is that I am mourning, kicked out into the real world as I have been, I say: Look at this. You’d want to stay too.
…and we even showed up the next day for photo call. Sober.
We opened the dance floor. We closed the dance floor.
The Gang Of Seven: Martín Zimmerman, me, Sam Hunter, Bekah Brunstetter, Michael Yates Crowley, Lauren Yee, Jeff Augustin
O’Neill tradition – right after your first performance, everyone goes to the pub and the playwright has to hammer the playbill into the wall. This affords excellent entertainment for anyone who ever wanted to see somebody hammer their fingers/ drop shit everywhere / get a thumb-tack in the face. Here I am, managing to not kill anybody. Which, at a certain point, is really all you can ever ask for.
Now I just wander around these grounds like a shadow of my former self.
Makela Spielman, Hannah Cabell, me, Joe Tippett, Christy Pusz
…Another name for your Size-of-My Entire-Hand Moth may be Pandorus Sphinx, Eumorpha pandorus, wingspan approx 3 1/4 to a little over 4 1/2 …Their caterpillars eat grape leaves and Virginia creeper, and Ampelopsis, whatever that is. — Mom
1. Lauren Yee found a GIANT MOTH. “Jen,” she said, “go downstairs and see the GIANT MOTH!”
What kind of moth? SIZE-OF-MY-ENTIRE-HAND Moth.
2. Sam Hunter + lobster make me happy.
Baby crickets, on the other hand, are welcome any time. They are good-natured, of a friendly and social disposition, loyal, quiet, well-read, and enjoy long walks on the beach.
While I was sitting in bed with my laptop last night, a giant centipede ran up my bare leg. I didn’t wake up the entire hallway with screaming. For this, I deserve a medal.
We went on a Playwright Adventure tonight. It involved lobster rolls and an ice cream cone that was the size of my head. Crowley documented a moment known as: 3 Playwrights Come To A Rope Fence And Can’t Understand How To Get Through Or Around.