Nostalgia via barbershops in NYC. I am a huge fan of nostalgia, and of hanging onto things trying to pass out of the world, but the acuteness of our national fixation with same actually troubles me lately. Can we hold on to the lost world and move forward. I know, I know, I'm getting like this over barber shops.
Last night I started rereading The Great Gatsby for the first time since high school. Initial thoughts: wow, I hate all these people; oh, I totally see what bodlon was saying about me; dude, so little have things changed; Luhrmann better make this as utterly dark as it is. Because it's dark. Miserably dark. And also fascinating for the intensity of gender, and the worshipfulness of the narrator towards the intensity of gender, in all its characters. Oh, please let this film be as twisted as I want it to be. But, wow, not bedtime reading. Ever. Ever again.
Aside from Thanksposting, I'll also try to do Theater Thursdays (and/or catch up on Wicked Wednesdays) today. Being off in the UK, on holiday has everything turned around for me. Right now thought I need to go buy more stuff to cook.