A few days ago, D and I went to see Speed the Plow at the Old Vic. It is a play written by David Mamet. This production stars Keving Spacey and Jeff Goldblum. For most of the performance, I reeled at the razor-sharp dialogue, anxious to get as far away from it as possible. At the same time, I couldn't move. No even to blow my nose or take a sip of water. It was like a million paper cuts applied by Spacey and Goldblum, and the girl whose characer should have been called 'Eve' as the role was clearly limited to holding the poisoned apple that would mean the men's downfall.
It felt like a nightmare: there I was, stuck, no way to get out, having to watch this dialogue of never-ending evil narcissism. There was nothing kind or forgiving about it. And yet I loved every second. As the story progressed, it was like being forced to look in the mirror and seeing only your flaws, but because you can not look away or leave the room, you keep staring until you see past them, to the vulnerability and the humanity that is every imperfection.
When the play ended, I jumped out of my seat applauding. Yes, partly because I could finally shake out the pins and needles but also because the sheer power of the two actors and their rat-tat-tat machine gun performances made me feel like I had stuck my fingers in an electrical socket. I was inspired and disgusted, taken aback and excited, and most of all, grateful for my wonderful life in London that offers me these kinds of opportunities -- to see these kinds of things, to experience, to take in, to live... and then to hop on the Jubilee Line home.
On the tube, D and I looked at each other as we have so often in the past few weeks, realizing that our time together was coming to an end; that I would not be seeing him for 72 crazy days, that although we both feel this trip is so right, we're also both very aware that we don't know whether we'll recognize each other at the end of it. He smiled and held my hand, because what else is there to do, really? I squeezed his.
I need to go, see, cope, to fear, and face those fears. Like I was stuck in that chair, forced to watch Spacey and Goldblum even when my instincts were willing me to run away, I feel a need to be far away from everything that is familiar, and I know with a certainty I rarely feel that, like the play, I will return home in awe.
OK, in the spirit of complete honesty, I need to admit this small, lovely, ridiculous detail: I am sitting in the Virgin lounge writing this. D, bless him, surprised me with an upgrade, so I'm starting my down-and-dirty trip munching on sushi and sipping champagne (or I would have if I wasn't so hungover).
I have brought my little 'packed lunch' with me so I don't go hungry on the plane. Because flying is so dehydrating, I'm constantly thirsty and though I'm rarely hungry, I do get terribly bored so I bring tons of food with me.
AIRPLANE LETUCE WRAPS
large lettuce leaves (or similar), washed, dried and spread out one by one. (I also sometimes use collard greens)
vegetables to taste -- I love the sweeter ones like beets, or the ones with tons of water like cucumbers, but anything that can be sliced finely works. It's also good to use more crunchy vegetables because they give the wrap structure
sprouts (optional - I like them as they add an extra little kick)
Good fat filler -- I have used almond butter, pumpkin seed butter, avocado, hummus, depending on my mood.
fresh herbs if desired
Basically this is a cross between a summer roll and a wrap. The lettuce is used to roll all the other ingredients in. I make a bunch and munch on them one by one throughout the flight.
lettuce, beets, alfalfa sprouts, avocado
Flight's been called. Time to go.
Scriptnotes, Ep 300: From Writer to Writer-Director — Transcript - John August: Hello and welcome. My name is John August. Craig Mazin: My name is Craig Mazin. John: And this is Episode 300 of Scriptnotes. Craig: Whoa. Joh...
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