I want a penseive.

I was looking at the UMass Theatre Guild's website, and I noticed that a few years back their fall play was Ten Little Indians, which got me thinking. I remember Ten Little Indians perfectly. I remember auditioning on Friday, September 5th instead of Thursday because I didn't want the extra day of anticipation. I remember telling Natale in math how nervous I was, and how badly I wanted a part. I remember exactly what I was wearing, but I won't go into detail. I remember doing the Emily Brent monologue and being terrified of Ms. Mastroianni. I remember doing two scenes with Kenny and then going home and chalking it up as a good experience. I remember going to my SAT tutor that Sunday and buying my monogrammed 'Randy' trucker hat with Samm, where, on the way home, I realized that I didn't have a chance in hell. Monday, September 8th, I remember exactly what I was wearing, that my hair was unwashed and my capri pants made my feet look big. I remember coming out of some assembly, Natale scampering up to me and calling me Vera, and I remember being so supremely on top of the world, the kind of feeling you only get when you truly don't expect something, like when we advanced in Brockton with The Princess and the Princess. There has never been anything better.

Friday of the same week, I remember exactly what I was wearing. It was a good day, a great day, even. It was our 3rd rehersal for the show I thought I'd never be in. But then I got home and Nicole was in the basement with Adrienne and the dogs were inside instead of out and my mom was sitting alone in the woods and "something very very bad happened." There were no rehersals for this situation I never thought I'd be in. There has never been anything worse.

Four days, one extreme to the other.