My life since the end of the semester

Finishing it all up

Two weeks ago today I was studying for my Turkish exam, the last exam for me for
the year, which was taken the next morning, Friday, May 27. It didn’t go very
well, partially because while I was studying I was constantly worried about
packing. I had been packing and storing boxes all week, but after nearly two years of continuous living in Dunster House, I had accumulated a lot of stuff—more than I had previously realized. I had nearly two hundred books, a good chunk of clothes that I either did not wear or that my mother had been wanting me to get rid of for years (so long Pink Tie-dyed Shirt, so long, Green Polo and Pink Oxford), and I was beginning to think that there was no way I’d be moved out of Dunster on time.

Friday morning rolled around, and I sat for my exam, trying to remember tenses and affixes, and most of all my bête noir: vocabulary. It’s really rather hard to remember vocabulary in Turkish. In French, grammar had always been the problem; vocabulary was easy. But French comes from the same source as English; Turkish, on the other hand, has virtually no words in common. So I struggled through, and finished first, largely, I think, because I didn’t do very well.

I ate lunch in Dunster, and finished off the last of Grand B’s preserves that Phyllis had passed on to me when she moved out of Kirkland House last year. I got some of my friends to try them, too, and only after they tried them (“Hey, these are really good!”) did I show them the top of the jar, with Peach Preserves, 1991 in my grandmother’s handwriting.

Then, I packed like crazy. I still had three boxes and my refrigerator to get into storage before it closed at four, and the boxes hadn’t been packed completely yet. I rushed to pack them, then started taking them downstairs, all the while coordinating the storage of my roommate’s things which she had not had time to store before leaving for California. I struggled to get the biggest box (forever to be remembered as “monstro-box”) down the stairs by myself, when suddenly the most wonderful thing happened: Blase Ur, a most magnificent techie (and yes, his name really is Blase Ur—I really wonder what his parents were thinking) appeared out of nowhere and offered to help, and helped with the fridge, too.

I would have posted on this blog, at that very moment, “Blase Ur rocks my world!” but I was too tired, and there was more to be done, not least moving the computer itself, which had its own special trip to Ware Street, where I am living until June 17th. Excepting a two hour break at nine (in which the author rejoined her G&S comrades, wearing her nifty new HRG&SP Board Hoodie which is green and fantastic) I packed and moved and cleaned straight through the night, flying home, blissfully (and sound asleep) at nine Saturday morning.

Home again, home again, jiggety jig

Phyllis and Blake picked me up at the airport. I was happy to see them (I hadn’t seen Phyllis since Spring Break, and it’s just always fun to be around the two of them), but I was also exhausted. We arrived at the house (it’s exploded with wedding books and magazines!) and not too much later I took a long, much-needed nap.

That evening, we had Dad’s fiftieth birthday party, a cookout in the backyard with many friends and family. There was a “Pin the Tie on Mark” contest (everyone had been instructed, unbeknownst to Dad, to bring their oldest and ugliest ties) which the Sasser quads enjoyed very much, and lots of really good food. Kristi Rose had brought good cheese with her from Nashville, and there was plenty Diet Coke in the cooler to keep me happy. Anna and Lauren were cute, as always, and Anna, in particular, seemed to realize just how tired I was and so picked me to play “jump” with (unsurprisingly, “jump” is the game where you jump up and down repeatedly—for me it became sort of a game of “bounce”).

It seemed like I was home for a very short time—Tuesday night was already my last night there. We went out to Simp McGhee’s as a family, and looked at photos that Allison had taken that weekend. The Ayersts were down from Memphis (minus Amanda who was in Zambia), and I got to see Jeannette several times, too. I’ll be home again longer at the end of August, and I’m glad I’ll get the chance.

Producing, redux

On Wednesday, I returned to Cambridge, which is always a happier place without classes hanging over my head. That night I was already back into the swing of things with a production meeting for the first show, Proof, which goes up on the 24th.

Thursday evening I went to see Fats play with Robbie Fulks at T.T. the Bear’s on Mass. Ave. I brought my friend Andrea, and we had a great time—the show was really good, Robbie Fulks was really funny, and I just always enjoy seeing Fats or Kristi Rose onstage.

And now I’m working on organizing my life, and the theater. Sarah (my co-producer this summer) is out of town starting tomorrow (she’s really been out of commission all week since she graduated today), and I’ve got to run the show.