A Bookworm’s Dilemma

IMG_0092I have a rather large collection of books currently stacked on a table in my room. It’s not all my books–I have two boxes from Denison that I never really unpacked except to pull out individual books, and a couple bookshelves in the corner, mostly full of books from my childhood that don’t get read very much anymore. These are just the books that were lying around my room in various stacks before I began organizing; that is, books I have read/been reading/meant to read/acquired during the past year or so.

When I move to Louisville, I won’t be able to take most of my books with me. It would be silly to cart/ship a whole slew of books across the country when I have no guarantee I’ll be there more than nine months. (Luckily, there is a library close by, so new book acquisitions will not be a problem). But even so, I can’t bring NO books, because let’s face it, that would be even sillier, and also utterly unthinkable.

So here comes the only less slightly unthinkable challenge:


Basically I have to decide which ten or twelve or so books I want most to have with me over the next year. I was talking to my friend Holly about this, and she described these books as “comfort books”. I think that’s a pretty apt description–books that I have read several times over but that when I have a quiet moment and want something to read I will always turn to, like old, familiar friends. Rereading books is something some people don’t understand, but I love it–sometimes I stumble across a part I had forgotten about, or I see a thing I hadn’t noticed before, or I understand something I didn’t when I first read the book at age twelve. But sometimes it’s nice to just get lost in a familiar labyrinth of words, knowing that you already know the path through, but enjoying the journey all the same.

So this is my dilemma–which journeys will I want/need/miss the most when I move away? As may be obvious from the above picture, there are a lot of books that I love, a lot of books that I have turned to for comfort over the past few years, all for different reasons. How am I supposed to choose?

As far as moving questions go, it seems pretty frivolous. There are far bigger and more important questions to think about, like housing and budgets and groceries and transportation. But as any fellow book lover will know, taking a familiar book with you to a strange place is kind of like taking a piece of home. And I think having just the right bits of home with you in a new place can make a big difference.

So….now I just have to choose.



One Year Later

Last weekend marked a year since I graduated college.


It’s hard to believe it’s already been a year. It’s a very strange feeling. On the one hand, it doesn’t feel like it’s been all that long; on the other hand, when I think about college and my life at Denison, all of it seems very far away, very far removed from where I am now. I guess life is like that–time goes by quickly and slowly all at once, depending on how you look at it.

There are times when I miss college a lot. Most of all I miss my friends–I especially miss living with my friends. II miss having a social circle who were always there, always no more than a five minute walk away. It was so easy to hang out when no one really had to travel anywhere (though on the other hand, it’s amazing how much more daunting a five minute walk up the hill was when you never had to go up except for an occasional class).  miss small ridiculous things and late night runs to the doughnut shop, and the opportunity to see free live music regularly. I miss the theatre and the scene shop and DITA and all the crazy awesome things we did.

But for all the things that I miss, I don’t know that I would want to go back. I was ready for something else by the time college was over–not necessarily ready to leave my friends, but ready to stop being a student. Even though it’s an intensely scary thought, I was ready (and am ready) to be my own person, and take all the stuff I learned in school and start living.

Life after college has been a mix of surprises and disappointments; things that turned out pretty much how I expected, and other things that really didn’t. In some ways, my first year since graduation has not been quite the resounding success I had hoped for. I’m living at home. I have yet to get my own apartment or a salaried job (see previous post re: the difficulties of adulting). Living at home means that I am far away from my friends here, so I see them less. Socializing is harder, and sometimes I get a bit depressed about how little I hang out with people compared to at Denison.

But on the bright side: I’ve been doing theatre. I’m so glad that I got the gig with Shady last summer, not only because they were awesome shows (and they were really awesome shows), but because through them I got introduced to a really fantastic, friendly, welcoming theatre community that I hadn’t even known existed here. I’ve met so many amazing people here in the last year, had such a great time working with them and getting to know them onstage and off.

And now I’m leaving for a new adventure. I have this feeling that I might end up bouncing back and forth between the Midwest and California (and possible England, if I have any luck) for the next while, because I love all these places, and I might have difficulty picking just one place to settle down. Who knows where I’ll be in a year’s time?

I think when you graduate college you expect something exciting and profound to happen in your first year in the real world. You’ll go to new places and do new things and find your calling and figure out who you really are, or whatever. I did go to new places and do new things, but I’m only a little less clueless than I was this time last year. And that’s okay. Someone once told me that no one expects you to have your shit together until your twenty-eight. I hope to have things figured out a little sooner than that, but it’s comforting to think that leaving school doesn’t mean you automatically have to know everything. Surprise! Learning doesn’t stop when you graduate. I can’t wait to see what I learn during this next year.

Here’s to the next adventure!

(And congratulations once again to all my newly-graduated friends! Welcome to the real world. :D)


Motivation Levels Critical

As evidenced by the increasing late-ness of these posts, motivation seems to be particularly thin on the ground lately…thin in the air…just generally pretty trim.

(Eddie Izzard, folks. Particularly this bit)

I don’t really have anything to blame this on this week. I Hate Hamlet is over. My show at the high school is over. Things haven’t really started revving up yet for Twelfth Night (although I do need to finish putting my book together and print out paperwork and other fun pre-production things).

Apart from work, I’m the most un-busy I’ve been in a while. Not that I don’t have things I should be doing–I have to fill out paperwork for Louisville, and I’m trying to find an apartment, and work out a budget, and make a list of all the other things I have to do before I leave (including fun questions like “Do I need to get a Kentucky driver’s license?” God I hope not).

Maybe it’s because it’s End-Of-The-School-Year time and since all my big projects are finished my brain has decided it’s summer vacation, but I have had immense difficulty getting myself to do anything productive in the last week. I wonder how long it will take before my brain stops being programmed for School Time and Summer Time and starts being programmed for Adult Time. Actually what will probably happen, if my yearly schedule remains much as it was this year and will be next year, is that School Time will become Season Time and Summer Time will be Summer Stock Time, which is almost the same except Summer Stock Time isn’t vacation. Sad Day. This is one thing I like about my chosen career/lifestyle so far–there are distinct beginnings and ends to certain parts of the year that break up routine, so it’s not just one long expanse of Work.

On a semi-related note, thinking about moving and apartment hunting has made me realize how many Adult things I am still mainly ignorant of. I’ve never had to look for an apartment before because I went to a four-year residential college. I’ve never had to pay rent or utilities or do all those adult things that come with having an apartment. I have had to make budgets, but they were missing key Adult factors because a lot of the costs of living were built into school expenses. So this year will be a learning experience. I think I will do okay, but sometimes I feel a little behind in some ways in the whole Growing Up department. I guess a lot of people probably feel that way, and maybe I shouldn’t worry about it, but worrying is a thing for me, and so I do. It doesn’t help that I’m looking for housing in a place which is several thousand miles away from my current location. I feel like I would feel better about all this if I could go and look at the places instead of just trying to figure things out from promo pictures.

But I have time, and potential roommates, and prospects, so all will be well. I do sort of wish I could skip this part, but I guess this is part of Adulting–not getting to skip or sidestep the hard, annoying parts of life. This is good for me.

Yay adulthood!

An Attempt at Vlogging

I’ve been working my way through the original Brotherhood 2.0 videos on YouTube (which, if you don’t know, is a project John and Hank Green did in 2007 where they communicated solely through video blogs for a year. Their channel, vlogbrothers, became famous and six years later they performed on stage at Carnegie Hall. Life is weird like that).

Anyway, watching all these videos made me want to try out vlogging for myself–although I’ve never been terribly good at talking to a camera. I didn’t realize till later that WordPress doesn’t let you embed videos in your posts unless you pay them a lot of money, so here’s a link:

Vlog! (In which Rachel has obviously been watching way too much Brotherhood 2.0, and also has some exciting news).

I don’t think this will become a regular thing, but it was fun to try. Enjoy!


Yesterday was Impossible Astronaut Day, or, for those of you who don’t watch Doctor Who, the day when a bunch of Whovians went around with tally marks drawn all over their arms to celebrate the anniversary of the airing of the episode The Impossible Astronaut, which introduced a particularly scary monster into the Doctor Who canon (you don’t remember the Silence after you look away from them, hence the tally marks, to keep track of the ones you’ve seen).

So yesterday I drew a bunch of tally marks on my arm. It was fun, and I got some strange looks, and freaked one girl out, and got to explain Doctor Who to a couple people who otherwise wouldn’t have known about it.

The way this became a thing is almost as much fun as the actual event. Here, have a link:

The Post That Started It All

Basically, a fan on Tumblr told a story, and other fans saw it and thought it was a great idea, someone else added a date, the official Doctor Who Tumblr got hold of it, et voila – hundreds (maybe thousands?) of perfectly ordinary people walking around with tally marks on their arms, scaring the shit out of each other.

And this is why I love fandoms, and why the internet is such a great thing for fandoms.

A lot of people look a little askance at fandoms and fangirls, assuming that they are crazy/obsessed/antisocial or otherwise not-good things. I think this is grossly unfair. Of course, there will always be people who take things too far, who are a little over the top. There will always be trolls, and people who like to spread hate and feel the need to bash someone else’s ship or show or whatever to make themselves feel better. People are people. But on the whole, these people are in the minority.

At its most basic a fandom is a community of people who say, “You love this thing? I love this thing too! Let’s get together and talk about it and make fan art and celebrate this thing we love together.” Which I think is fantastic. And with the internet it’s never been easier. Instead of wandering around wherever you live hoping to run into someone else who happens to watch that show you like or read the book series you’ve been obsessed with, you can go online and find a ton of people who are into the same things as you, and who are excited to talk about it. It’s one of the reasons I love Tumblr, despite all the crazy, strange stuff that goes on there–there’s a ton of people getting together sharing the thing they love, and the things they have made–whether fanfiction, fanart, spoofs, crafts, cosplay, a deep analysis of an episode or character–inspired by the thing that they love. For every silly internet meme post, there’s another post of some really fantastic creation someone made based on their favorite show/book/movie/whatever. It’s truly amazing.

As great as the internet fandoms are, my favorite part is when this community extends off the internet into real life–like the Impossible Astronaut event. This sort of thing, much like wearing a Doctor Who shirt or having a sonic screwdriver keychain, is a great way to draw Whovians around you out of the woodwork. One of thing things I love about the Doctor Who fandom, at least in America, is that we are all so excited about it and so excited to meet another Whovian and talk about our beloved show. Maybe this is because for a long time not all that many people (relatively speaking) watched Doctor Who in the US, so when you found someone else who did it was like “OH MY GOD you watch Doctor Who? Let me talk to you about all the things I’ve been dying to talk to someone about!” There’s a feeling of instant connection because you’ve found something you’re both really enthusiastic about. There have been plenty of times when I was sitting around at some social gathering feeling awkward, only to find that someone else in the room watched Doctor Who (or was an Eddie Izzard fan, or a Joss Whedon fan, or what have you), and instantly felt at ease, because we had common ground, we had something to talk about.

I guess my point (if I ever had one), is that fandoms are like any other group of people who get together to share their common interests (think book clubs, knitting circles, bike clubs, sports fans).  We go through life looking for ways to connect with other people, and sharing our love of the same TV shows or movies or books is just one of those ways.

Also, the look on someone’s face when you freak them out with tally marks on your arm or a picture of a weeping angel? Priceless.

Theatre is Weird (and I love it)

Today’s post is brought to you by my rambling, mostly very unintellectual and unorganized brain. Under no circumstances should it be taken as scholarly in any way, or indeed anything other than me recording the thoughts that rattle around in my head while I’m in the booth watching my show.

You have been warned.

As the title may have already clued you in, I recently had a thought while I was watching I Hate Hamlet (and watching the audience watch I Hate Hamlet)–theatre is weird.

Don’t get me wrong. I love it. There’s nothing I would rather be doing than helping a production get on its feet, watching as it takes on shape and dimension and turns into something beautiful, watching people’s reactions to this thing that we have all worked so hard to make the best it can be. It’s one of my favorite things in the world.

But setting all that aside, if you take a step back and look at it objectively, there’s not denying that theatre, like so many things we humans do, is a very strange practice indeed.

Think about it. You are at the theatre, surrounded by people, most of whom you have never met. You sit in a small, often uncomfortable seat, in close quarters with a bunch of strangers, and you wait. Sometimes there is music, or a preshow performance. Sometimes there is a set to look at, an abstract structure oar a facsimile of a real place. You read the program. By mutual agreement, no one talks too loudly or eats popcorn or slurps soda (at least, in most theatres). After a while the lights dim, and once everyone quiets down. You sit in the dark, and the lights come up onstage, and people–ordinary people just like you–come out and perform what amounts to a very elaborate game of make believe.

Some of these things also apply to many types of performance or art–a movie theatre, for example, has the same surreal quality of a bunch of strangers gathering together to watch a made up story. But there is something about the theatre in general, the fact that the performers are right there, in front of you, that the story is happening in this precise moment, that gives it an immediacy unmatched by any other medium (even live music has a different sort of vibe). The audience sits, and watches, and listens. No one talks, no one heckles, no one jumps up onstage and tries to join the action.

Of course, this wasn’t always the case. For a long time theatre was a form of popular entertainment much like sports games are today–vendors sold food, and people shouted responses at the actors, and ate and talked and paid attention when they felt like it. Somewhere along the line something shifted in the way society views the theatre, and it became an almost sacred space, with a set of rules and manners that you violate only at your peril. I leave it to someone much more learned and intellectual than I do discuss whether this is a good or bad thing–there is certainly something to be said for participatory theatre. But the fact remains that nowadays, when one goes to the theatre one is expected to behave a certain way–and the sort of amazing thing is that, for the most part, people do.

<liberal arts student disclaimer>

I should mention at this point that when I speak of theatre in this context, I’m really just talking about “typical” Western, modern theatre. There are as many types of theatre as there are different human cultures, and a good many of them are very different from this description. But I am but one blogger and I can’t address all of them, so I’m just addressing the theatre I’m familiar with.

</liberal arts student disclaimer>

The process of theatre is no less strange from the creator’s point of view, and perhaps stranger. My mom asked me the other day whether it made me sad to have to tear down a set that we spent hours and days and weeks building just a few weeks before. It can be sad, I said, but it’s part of the job–you know that nothing you’re building is going to last forever. That’s why you take pictures. And it can be fun to smash apart something that was the bane of your existence while you were building it.

But I digress.

When you think about it, it is exceedingly strange that we spend all these many hours working and rehearsing, building and painting, stressing and sweating and possibly crying, to make this thing that will only exist for a few weeks or months (or possibly years, if you’re on Broadway, but that’s a topic for another day), and then be gone forever. Theatre is the definition of ephemeral art, surpassed only perhaps by cooking. It would seem that we would have every reason to despair at the thought that all this work will disappear, and that possibly in a year’s time no one will even remember that it happened.

That can be a depressing thought. But I think the thing that keeps us going is the hope that someone will remember. The goal of reaching out, through a performance of a made up story with made up people with made up problems, and touching someone, a real person with a real story, and real problems, and somehow making them better, or changing them in some small way, or even just giving them a really fantastic evening to look back on and warm themselves with on cold grey days. Certainly working on a play, especially a really powerful one, can change you, make you think of things you never considered, see the world a different way. And the culmination of the process is to share it with other people, to share what you have learned and felt.

The sharing is crucial, because theatre is one of the only arts that cannot be practiced in isolation. You can always draw for yourself, write for yourself, play music for yourself, even dance for yourself, but it is very difficult to put on a play for yourself. The audience is the whole reason the play exists, and it isn’t considered “finished” until it has been performed for someone else. In order to tell a story you have to have someone to tell it to. Thus not only is theatre ephemeral, it is also by definition communal, an art that depends on shared experience. It’s one group of people (very rarely is everything done by one person) working together to create something to show to another group of people, saying, “Look at what we made for you. Let us share this little snippet of human experience”.

I think that’s why people sit so still and so quiet when they watch theatre. If it’s any good at all, there’s something about the immediacy of the presentation, the direct connection between the performer and the audience as they share their story, that inspires a sort of reverence. ( This makes it sound like all theatre is grandiose and serious, but of course there’s farce and comedy and clowning and a lot of other kinds of performance that have nothing reverent about them. But even they are about connection with the audience, picking the right things to make them laugh, so I think they can be included in this idea of theatre as a communal form.)

If you made it this far, bravo. Thanks for reading my rambling thoughts about the theatre. In conclusion (if there is any conclusion to be made), theatre is a weird thing, but it’s a pretty fantastic weird thing, and I’m incredibly grateful to be able to be a part of it.

My Recent Life in Pictures

Usually these sorts of posts are “the week in pictures” or “the month in pictures”, but I think it’s silly to put such time constraints on things, don’t you? Why exclude perfectly good pictures just because they weren’t taken this week?

Basically, I finally got around to transferring a bunch of pictures from my iPod to my computer, and I found some that I would like to share.


Here’s the last whatever of my life as seen from my iPod.


IMG_0036  IMG_0073  IMG_0023 

Adventures in cooking continue!IMG_0030 Salted Caramel Brownies Take Two was a success–as you can see, the caramel was the right consistency! Huzzah! It still left some craters in the brownies, but I don’t think anyone will complain if more experimentation occurs. And in more savory adventures, I discovered that spinach quiche is the easiest thing ever (especially with pre-made crust, which, while it might possibly be chef-sacrilege, I think tasted really good), and that homemade pizza is crazy delicious (and when you can make a really delicious sauce by throwing tomatos, oil, vinegar, garlic, oregano, salt and pepper in a food processor, it’s even better). Also, carrot soup is officially my favorite way to eat carrots.


IMG_0067  IMG_0065

IMG_0066The I Hate Hamlet set is gorgeous and wonderful, especially in Act II. Fun fact: the fireplace is made from an old footboard that our set designer found in a dumpster. And he made the throne partly using the footboard. Also, the bricks were made by marking out a grid in tape, spreading plaster over, the pulling the tape off to make the grout, so they actually have texture! In short, our set designer is awesome.


So as you may know, I work in a toy store. Admittedly, it is not all fun and games, but sometimes (more often than perhaps I should admit), stuff like this happens:

IMG_0054  IMG_0049

The best part is that I am encouraged to do this sort of thing on a regular basis. When we got our new marble run display, my manager and I spent at least twenty minutes play–I mean, stress testing it (among other things, we tried to see if we could get all the marbles in the run at once). I love my job.

And finally…


I leave you with a picture of the view from my front door, taken some time in February. The tree in the background suffers from chronic seasonal confusion; it kept its leaves all through fall and began turning red sometime in December or January. I think it’s forgotten about spring completely.

And on that note, Happy April! See you next week.

Book Review: The Girl Who Fell Beneath Fairyland and Led the Revels There

And now for something completely different.

Okay, not completely different, only sort of different. I’ve spent most of these blog posts writing/complaining about me and my life, and today I wanted to talk about something else. And, being me, the first thing that popped into my head was this book that I just finished:

The Girl Who Fell Beneath Fairyland and Led the Revels There by Catherynne M. Valente

The Girl Who Fell Beneath Fairyland and Led the Revels There by Catherynne M. Valente

The Girl Who Circumnavigated Fairyland in a Ship of Her Own Making by Catherynne M. Valente

The Girl Who Circumnavigated Fairyland in a Ship of Her Own Making by Catherynne M. Valente

This book is the sequel to The Girl Who Circumnavigated Fairyland in a Ship of Her Own Making (and yes, the anticipated third book will have a title just as long), and both books are, in short, amazing. Someone recently told me they sounded “Neil-Gaiman-y” and that’s a pretty apt description. Valente has the same sort of dark touch to her fantasy, without ever losing touch with the enchantment of it. If you love fairy tales with a twist, if your favorite narrator is the kind that engages the reader directly and is full of dry wit and has a Fondness for Capital Letters, if you like your fantasy to be fantastic and colorful and exciting and glorious, but still sometimes a little dark, then you will love these books.

Fairyland has it all: magic, witches (who only tell the future, everything else is done by other magical folk), a Wyverary (a Wyvern whose father was a Library), herds of bicycles (properly called velocipedes), a province where it is always Autumn, and Pandemonium, a constantly moving capital city that relocates according to the needs of narrative. It’s fantastic and whimsical and not a little dangerous and I totally fell in love with it. In this second book, you get to meet its shadow: Fairyland-Below.

When we left our heroine, September, at the end of the last book, she had just returned from her first adventure in Fairyland, having made some friends, defeated the tyrant Marquess, and lost her shadow. Now, a year later, September is eagerly anticipating her return to Fairlyland, where her friends will be wating for her and, of course, all will be well. She’ll have adventures and explore and not have to worry herself about Local Politicks. It will be a grand time.

But of course, nothing is ever so simple in Fairyland, and September’s shadow has been busy. She’s become Halloween, the Hollow Queen, ruler of Fairyland-Below, and is intent on doing anything she wants, and damn the consequences.

This is an excellent sequel in that it builds on the framework the previous book established, further developing characters we’ve already come to know and love–although, this being Fairyland-Below, where everything is slantwise and upside-down, the people there are not always quite what they seem. The book is darker and more serious in some ways than its predecessor, because September is growing up. She’s thirteen, and she’s beginning to develop a heart (in the first book, she, like most children, was Somewhat Heartless). She has to deal with the consequences of her actions and clean up the mess she–and her shadow–have caused in Fairyland, both Above and Below. September comes to Fairyland this time around thinking she knows how things work, since she’s been there before, but she quickly realizes that’s not the case. Even though she has friends with her, in some ways September is much more on her own during her Quest in this book, and it’s great to watch her deal with each twist the story throws at her, and roundly tell off anyone who tries to tell her that she can’t do things for herself.

Of course, even with all the darkness of Fairyland-Below, there’s plenty of enchantment and fun as well, with lots of new quirky characters and bits of Fairyland trivia. The ending is clever and unexpected and somewhat heartbreaking and utterly wonderful. In short, I loved this book just as much as the first one, and if you are even slightly interested in fantastic literature or fairy tales, you should read both immediately.



I am doing lots of different things at the moment.

I wish more of them paid me.

I am tired, and I am sick of driving. I have lots of things to do when I’m home–fellowship applications, and emails for my summer show, but when I get home all I want to do is read, or watch Buffy, or otherwise do nothing. It’s very difficult to keep my motivation up.

I am having a lot of fun with my show, but I’m very much looking forward to having some days off. Maybe I’ll cook something. For now, I am sitting here listening to the BBC Radio 4 adaptation of Neverwhere, (which is brilliant, and you should go listen to it immediately) and I’m probably going to go to bed early. Hopefully tomorrow my motivation will be higher.

Sorry for my grumpiness. Next week will be better.


And here we are at Sunday again.

It’s been a long week. It was a week full of lots of boxes, and driving, and meetings, and building, and more driving, and rehearsal, and more driving. Most importantly, it was tech this weekend for I Hate Hamlet!

I’ve actually been quite excited to tech this show, because we’ve been rehearsing for a while and I was looking forward to adding the technical elements and seeing everything come together. Also, this is the first time since the Nerd that I’ll be in the booth instead of backstage, so I’m looking forward to being able to watch the show and do the cues (although I’m not calling the show, I’m just running the boards myself, as the booth is small and I don’t think there would be room for board ops up there with me). It takes a bit of getting used to, as for some of the lighting/thunder/storm sequences there’s several buttons that have to be pressed simultaneously/in quick succession, but it’s coming along.

Tech went very smoothly, all things considered. I love it when it does, because then I can focus on the show and not be distracted by the stress of things not working. And this really is one of my favorite parts of theatre. Every show goes through various stages, and some of my favorite parts are the very beginning–the first read-through, when everything is new and everyone is excited about this thing they’re going to be making together–and the tech or dress or previews, whenever the first day is when everything is onstage as it will be in the performance. It’s so amazing to see all the hard work of so many people over so many weeks come together into something awesome. We have a fantastic set for this show (I will post pictures of it eventually, I promise), and put together with the costumes and the lights (including a fake fire that looks fantastic!) and the music and sound cues, it just brings the show alive. We cut off two minutes from each act during our tech run today, despite a few technical difficulties, and I think it’s just because of the energy that having everything actually THERE created for the actors. It was great, and I can’t wait to see how it develops as we get more comfortable with everything.

There’s a line in the show, during a sword fight between two of the characters (yes, there’s a sword fight. It’s awesome). The ghost of John Barrymore is trying to get the actor he’s training to play Hamlet to fence with him (I promise it’s not as weird as it sounds), and he says, “This is why one acts. This is why actors are envied. We are allowed to do this sort of thing.”

And that, I think, is a really good expression of one of the reasons I love doing theatre.

We are allowed to do this sort of thing.

We are allowed to play around with swords, and steal a bit from the beginning of the Princess Bride sword fight because it’s cool, and act out seances and play with lights and build a huge fireplace with painted marble and a fire made from spinning metal bits and a light. We are allowed to play at make believe, and have fun creating a world that expresses things about life that people don’t always know how to express.

So even though it meant that I spent a good part of a really gorgeous weekend in a dark windowless room (not to mention Saint Patrick’s Day, if I was into that sort of thing), I had fun, and I’m very excited for this show.

Huzzah for tech week!