In about six hours, I am getting up to catch a bus to New York City to see Ansky's The Dybbuk off-Broadway with
fleurdelis28,
shirei_shibolim,
terriqat, and some very lovely people who don't have livejournals. Those of us who don't live in New York are then catching the bus back. It will be exhausting; it should also be fun. I have never before seen this play staged, although it's been important to me for almost ten years now (and maybe longer, if you count the poster I used to look at in the basement of the building where my grandmother's congregation met, before they got a temple of their own and confused me forever). It will be very interesting to see what it looks like, outside of my head.
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- 1: And they won't thank you, they don't make awards for that
- 2: But the soft and lovely silvers are now falling on my shoulder
- 3: What does it do when we're asleep?
- 4: Now where did you get that from, John le Carré?
- 5: Put your circuits in the sea
- 6: Sure as the morning light when frigid love and fallen doves take flight
- 7: No one who can stand staying landlocked for longer than a month at most
- 8: And in the end they might even thank me with a garden in my name
- 9: I'd marry her this minute if she only would agree
- 10: And me? Well, I'm just the narrator
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- Style: Classic for Refried Tablet by and
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