April 9, 2016

 Baked pistachio cookies before dawn for the “opening” tonight. I wonder if anyone will come.

 Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf at NC Stage last night. I’d said on several occasions that I never needed to see that show again, but perhaps I did, for this one was the best I remember (of course I can’t judge the ones I was in), swift, lacking in self-indulgence, thoroughly considered. The play itself is false, and it’s hard to overcome that. But so far as you can, they did. Afterwards at Sovereign Remedies, a festive evening, with handsome kids from NCUR (decidedly not Wesleyans) drinking themselves silly, and one of my former (gigantic) students as bouncer. Dreamed rather beautifully, of wandering the streets of some Italian city at night– a festival night–and meeting a dark-haired Irish kid who wanted to spend the night with me. “Yes,” I said. “Yes, I will. Yes. Yes.”