day 12: not cool, david mamet.

I am currently memorizing a play by Mamet with two scene partners that share enough of the same innocence and sense of humor to know how ironic it is that the scene's been chosen for us. It's hilarious more than anything, and it's so far over my head I don't know if I'll do a good job in front of class. Though, the point of the whole process is to embrace the process, and not care what people in the class think. Easier said than done, I admit. In fact, the whole idea of storing all of this information in my brain overwhelms me in a way I haven't experienced since college art history. I am certainly having fun with the accent, though.

It's the last day of the exhibition so I spend a good part of the afternoon stuck in downtown traffic on a Sunday because unbeknownst to me there's a Laker's game at the stadium. Oops. I spend a rushed 30 minutes gazing at the remnants of the LA Art show and head home after, desperate to escape the returning traffic's bitter wrath.

It's turns a bit chilly here after sundown, and in the evening my roommate and I put on jackets and walk around Ventura Boulevard in search for a nice place to eat dinner. We find ourselves in an Italian place not even a block from our house. The conversation is heavy although the meal is light, and we top off the night with a glorious cup of mint chocolate chip ice cream. I fall asleep counting lines instead of sheep.