That my new ballet teacher said this morning: Everything in ballet is either an action, a reaction, or a statement. There is no art without story." As someone who has been thinking a lot about story lately, this felt relevant.
From his demonstration and examples, one can see he is talking about having intention behind one's movements. He says "you can't just connect the dots, that's not saying anything," and he says, about footwork, points and kicks etc, that your have to have a destination, you should have a point you are aim to--
All this is about imbuing motion with intention--or you could say purpose.
In my screen analysis class, one of the first things we talked about was the definition of filmic action as being "purposeful movement toward an objective." In stories, characters have action, ie purpose, intent. On the dance floor, a dancer who operates with a sense of intent, of having an objective, that dance will feel to the audience like she has "character" not just a command of the choreography.
Sunday, March 29, 2009
The Good, the Bad, and The Ugly
The Good--
On Friday, I received an email from the English department at FSU that my thesis from 2008 had been given a departmental honor. This bit of affirmation comes at a good time for me, as I feel a bit flailing in my current writing endeavors. Thinking back, I can recall that most of the spring and summer I worked on my thesis was also a bit tortuous, at yet it seems quite distant now. So it gives support to the idea that creation, and evolution of skill, is, for me at least, the process of slowly but persistently crawling forward.
The Bad--
Breaking Bad. A TV series on AMC created by Vince Gilligan, who came to speak to us last semester. The show is itself is not bad, but my instant addiction to it certainly is. I discovered it on Friday, and now, on Sunday, the house is a complete sty, my screenplay has progressed very little, I'm a bit sleep deprived, and I've neglected family and friends who I might have contacted with the free time I apparently had this weekend. Fortunately, I've been watching on a website that only lets you watch episodes for 74 minutes before cutting you off. You have to wait 54 minutes before logging in again. I believe this timing is designed to make you want to get a paid subscription, but for me this would mark a death knell. That enforced cut-off is the only thing keeping me quasi functional. At this moment, as I write this, it is all I can do not to switch windows and finish an episode I started last night, but I'm not letting myself until after I finish this post. Note the extent of my demise, I have to reward myself for blogging.
The Ugly--
Ballet class. The class itself of course is not ugly, but the experience of taking a ballet class after 25 years away from the bar..it ain't pretty. In a fit of self-loathing yesterday about 4pm, (which coincided of course with a video cut-off), I doffed my pajamas (no really, I didn't, I've finally found some lounge pants that could be worn outside, so that I never really have to take off my pajamas, but I did put a bra on under my T-shirt), and decided to check out the dance studios within walking distance. I had not really eaten, not intending to actually take a class, but when i arrived at the second studio, a class happened to be starting. The teacher, a white haired Russian (I think), came over and said. "Wvat do you need here?" I said I was thinking about taking a class. And he said, "This is a class. Do you want to take it?"
At one point during the bar-work, he came by, knocked my ar further and the air and adjusted my upper body, saying "There is no vitality!" Which I have to say, I completely agree with. Most of the time in my life, I feel, not like I lack energy--but that I lack vitality. So this really struck a chord. He also said, "This class is good for you, we can fix the shape of your body." Now, I could get offended, and say the shape of my body does not need fixing, but in truth, it could use some help. I'm lucky that I can fit into most of my clothes, but in truth, the body I am in is not exactly right for me. In my sense memory somewhere, I have a feeling of having known my body better in the past, of it being more connected, if that makes any sense...
By the time the bar work ended, the black spots were closing in, and I had to do the embarrassing thing of sitting out for the floor work...That by the way, was the "beginners" class. But at the end, he invited me to the "Basic Beginners" class which met this morning, and I managed to show up and make it through the class...so that's something.
On Friday, I received an email from the English department at FSU that my thesis from 2008 had been given a departmental honor. This bit of affirmation comes at a good time for me, as I feel a bit flailing in my current writing endeavors. Thinking back, I can recall that most of the spring and summer I worked on my thesis was also a bit tortuous, at yet it seems quite distant now. So it gives support to the idea that creation, and evolution of skill, is, for me at least, the process of slowly but persistently crawling forward.
The Bad--
Breaking Bad. A TV series on AMC created by Vince Gilligan, who came to speak to us last semester. The show is itself is not bad, but my instant addiction to it certainly is. I discovered it on Friday, and now, on Sunday, the house is a complete sty, my screenplay has progressed very little, I'm a bit sleep deprived, and I've neglected family and friends who I might have contacted with the free time I apparently had this weekend. Fortunately, I've been watching on a website that only lets you watch episodes for 74 minutes before cutting you off. You have to wait 54 minutes before logging in again. I believe this timing is designed to make you want to get a paid subscription, but for me this would mark a death knell. That enforced cut-off is the only thing keeping me quasi functional. At this moment, as I write this, it is all I can do not to switch windows and finish an episode I started last night, but I'm not letting myself until after I finish this post. Note the extent of my demise, I have to reward myself for blogging.
The Ugly--
Ballet class. The class itself of course is not ugly, but the experience of taking a ballet class after 25 years away from the bar..it ain't pretty. In a fit of self-loathing yesterday about 4pm, (which coincided of course with a video cut-off), I doffed my pajamas (no really, I didn't, I've finally found some lounge pants that could be worn outside, so that I never really have to take off my pajamas, but I did put a bra on under my T-shirt), and decided to check out the dance studios within walking distance. I had not really eaten, not intending to actually take a class, but when i arrived at the second studio, a class happened to be starting. The teacher, a white haired Russian (I think), came over and said. "Wvat do you need here?" I said I was thinking about taking a class. And he said, "This is a class. Do you want to take it?"
At one point during the bar-work, he came by, knocked my ar further and the air and adjusted my upper body, saying "There is no vitality!" Which I have to say, I completely agree with. Most of the time in my life, I feel, not like I lack energy--but that I lack vitality. So this really struck a chord. He also said, "This class is good for you, we can fix the shape of your body." Now, I could get offended, and say the shape of my body does not need fixing, but in truth, it could use some help. I'm lucky that I can fit into most of my clothes, but in truth, the body I am in is not exactly right for me. In my sense memory somewhere, I have a feeling of having known my body better in the past, of it being more connected, if that makes any sense...
By the time the bar work ended, the black spots were closing in, and I had to do the embarrassing thing of sitting out for the floor work...That by the way, was the "beginners" class. But at the end, he invited me to the "Basic Beginners" class which met this morning, and I managed to show up and make it through the class...so that's something.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Confessions
1) When I'm writing, I absentmindedly feel for my coursest hairs and pull them from my head. Then I realize it and feel disappointed in myself, because this is how I end up with course, inch-long hairs sticking out of the top of my head.
2) My screenwriting teacher for class tomorrow has emailed and warned he might have to cancel class because he doesn't feel well. I would never wish for him to be sick, and yet...at this moment, the idea of canceled class is not unappealing.
2) My screenwriting teacher for class tomorrow has emailed and warned he might have to cancel class because he doesn't feel well. I would never wish for him to be sick, and yet...at this moment, the idea of canceled class is not unappealing.
Sunday, March 22, 2009
Something's Going On...
Been sleeping a LOT this weekend. Could have to do with arriving back in California around 1 am Sat morning and then staying up to watch the Battlestar Galactica 2 hour final episode. I woke up on Saturday, but then went back to bed in the afternoon and slept a lot, and could not bring myself to go to a local bar for a friend's birthday in the evening.
Today, when I felt the same way, I also tried to at least do some meditation, and reading as well.
I don't feel emotional so much as this vague feeling of being depressed/oppressed/anxious...but then I have to realize those ARE emotions. And it occurs to me, that having just seen my parents, and my dad being sick right now--his blood counts were too low to have chemo for the second time while I was there--and the fact that my own scans start tomorrow, I probably have a lot churning around inside, and it probably affects me more than I realize. So even though it feels a bit like slacking, I'm trying to honor that, and let myself just sit if that's what I need to do. I've got the bare minimum done for homework for tomorrow, and even less for my Wed and Friday deadlines, but I just have to trust that if I work with this inner stuff, that the energy to do the other stuff will re-emerge in time.
Today, when I felt the same way, I also tried to at least do some meditation, and reading as well.
I don't feel emotional so much as this vague feeling of being depressed/oppressed/anxious...but then I have to realize those ARE emotions. And it occurs to me, that having just seen my parents, and my dad being sick right now--his blood counts were too low to have chemo for the second time while I was there--and the fact that my own scans start tomorrow, I probably have a lot churning around inside, and it probably affects me more than I realize. So even though it feels a bit like slacking, I'm trying to honor that, and let myself just sit if that's what I need to do. I've got the bare minimum done for homework for tomorrow, and even less for my Wed and Friday deadlines, but I just have to trust that if I work with this inner stuff, that the energy to do the other stuff will re-emerge in time.
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Brought to You by Cancer
My friend Rosie just celebrated her third cancerversary. Congrats Rosie.
My own "cancer-free" status, has just passed the five year mark--kind of. After a surgery to remove the tumor in December of 03, I had a PET scan in February of 04, that showed clear results. There are a couple of reasons for my uncertainty about my actual status:
First, I do not keep track of dates in so organized a fashion as Rosie, so am apt to let days be just like other days...except that sometimes I will have an exceptionally emotional rollercoaster day, and a day or two later I will think, "Oh, this is right around when I was diagnosed with a life-threatening illness. Maybe there's a connection."
The other reason for delaying the "all clear" bell is that this year I have had a hard time scheduling all my annual scans. Although I intended to have them all done in December, they are actually starting next week, with a colonoscopy on Tuesday, an ultrasound the following week, some blood tests when I can remember to fast and can find the referral, and maybe even a CAT or a PET after that, just to mark the five-year occasion. (A CAT is one of those things that the doctors really want to do every year, but I prefer not to be bombarded by the radiation so often.)
Interestingly, it was Rosie's cancer that was my introduction to blogging. After her diagnosis, she began her blog. At first written to keep family and friends updated on doctors reports and how she was feeling, it transformed into the riveting and ultra-honest "Someday We'll Look Back and Laugh." I had read random blogs before this, often about topics that came up on google searches, but hers was the first that I can remember faithfully checking several times a week.
What is coming up, on April 7, is the 3rd anniversary of this blog. In my memory, inspired by Rosie, I began it after my father was diagnosed with his second colon cancer, but looking back, I see this isn't true. I had started the blog a few days before I received the call that he was in the hospital. Since I had just set it up, it seemed a practical way to give information to several people at once. My earliest posts are long descriptions of written from my parents' place in Sarasota.
So I guess it's appropriate to mention here, that I am once again in Sarasota. My father has once again been diagnosed with a re-occurrence of cancer, this time of the pancreas. He is not in the hospital, as they are not recommending surgery, but for the first time in his life, scans have revealed secondary sites, which the doctors are treating with chemo-therapy.
Sometimes I am tempted to to dive deeply into the day to day...to think my mid-term grades and my next fifteen pages are worth the stress I invest in them. In fact I cannot resist this--it is the life which goes on. But I am pressed by constant reminders of what it means to live "with" cancer, of how it can always pop-up, whether with family and friends, or in my own genetically pre-disposed body. Despite my desires to put it at a distance, cancer and I have a relationship. I can't remove it from my friend list on Face-book. We're in it for the long haul.
My own "cancer-free" status, has just passed the five year mark--kind of. After a surgery to remove the tumor in December of 03, I had a PET scan in February of 04, that showed clear results. There are a couple of reasons for my uncertainty about my actual status:
First, I do not keep track of dates in so organized a fashion as Rosie, so am apt to let days be just like other days...except that sometimes I will have an exceptionally emotional rollercoaster day, and a day or two later I will think, "Oh, this is right around when I was diagnosed with a life-threatening illness. Maybe there's a connection."
The other reason for delaying the "all clear" bell is that this year I have had a hard time scheduling all my annual scans. Although I intended to have them all done in December, they are actually starting next week, with a colonoscopy on Tuesday, an ultrasound the following week, some blood tests when I can remember to fast and can find the referral, and maybe even a CAT or a PET after that, just to mark the five-year occasion. (A CAT is one of those things that the doctors really want to do every year, but I prefer not to be bombarded by the radiation so often.)
Interestingly, it was Rosie's cancer that was my introduction to blogging. After her diagnosis, she began her blog. At first written to keep family and friends updated on doctors reports and how she was feeling, it transformed into the riveting and ultra-honest "Someday We'll Look Back and Laugh." I had read random blogs before this, often about topics that came up on google searches, but hers was the first that I can remember faithfully checking several times a week.
What is coming up, on April 7, is the 3rd anniversary of this blog. In my memory, inspired by Rosie, I began it after my father was diagnosed with his second colon cancer, but looking back, I see this isn't true. I had started the blog a few days before I received the call that he was in the hospital. Since I had just set it up, it seemed a practical way to give information to several people at once. My earliest posts are long descriptions of written from my parents' place in Sarasota.
So I guess it's appropriate to mention here, that I am once again in Sarasota. My father has once again been diagnosed with a re-occurrence of cancer, this time of the pancreas. He is not in the hospital, as they are not recommending surgery, but for the first time in his life, scans have revealed secondary sites, which the doctors are treating with chemo-therapy.
Sometimes I am tempted to to dive deeply into the day to day...to think my mid-term grades and my next fifteen pages are worth the stress I invest in them. In fact I cannot resist this--it is the life which goes on. But I am pressed by constant reminders of what it means to live "with" cancer, of how it can always pop-up, whether with family and friends, or in my own genetically pre-disposed body. Despite my desires to put it at a distance, cancer and I have a relationship. I can't remove it from my friend list on Face-book. We're in it for the long haul.
Saturday, March 14, 2009
Adventures in Sushi: Back off the Bluefin
I wrote this a while back for another blog, but I don't think they used it so I thought I'd share some of the helpful and interesting links.
Bluefin tuna are “Too valuable everywhere to be allowed to live anywhere,” Carl Safina in his article “Regulators Are Pushing Bluefin to the Brink.” Apparently a freshly killed giant bluefin is worth more than any other animal on the planet, including elephants and rhinos. He notes that a few years ago a single 444 pound fish sold wholesale in Japan for $173,600.
Bluefin populations are down by more than half in the Mediterranean and by more than 90 percent in the west Atlantic, but this “increasing rarity of bluefin—and escalating worldwide sushi madness—has only intensified fishing efforts.” Sad when we try to snap up an entire species like they’re the last Cabbage Patch dolls on the shelf.
An irony, as my friend Trevor Corson points out, both in his book The Story of Sushi, and also in this article, is that in traditional Japanese culture, tuna—especially the fatty parts—were considered unsuitable for sushi.
I’ve lately turned my back on tuna in favor of mackerel which is yummy and salty (like French fries, but different.) It’s not only eco-friendly according to the Environmental Defense Fund, but Spanish Mackerel (not king mackerel), is relatively low in mercury content. Sadly, this is not the case for either American or European eel, which their chart tells me I should eat zero times per month due to its high levels of mercury and PCBS. Oh, unagi, I loved you so. Hopefully I will find a satisfying alternative using this handy wallet size sushi selector.
Bluefin tuna are “Too valuable everywhere to be allowed to live anywhere,” Carl Safina in his article “Regulators Are Pushing Bluefin to the Brink.” Apparently a freshly killed giant bluefin is worth more than any other animal on the planet, including elephants and rhinos. He notes that a few years ago a single 444 pound fish sold wholesale in Japan for $173,600.
Bluefin populations are down by more than half in the Mediterranean and by more than 90 percent in the west Atlantic, but this “increasing rarity of bluefin—and escalating worldwide sushi madness—has only intensified fishing efforts.” Sad when we try to snap up an entire species like they’re the last Cabbage Patch dolls on the shelf.
An irony, as my friend Trevor Corson points out, both in his book The Story of Sushi, and also in this article, is that in traditional Japanese culture, tuna—especially the fatty parts—were considered unsuitable for sushi.
I’ve lately turned my back on tuna in favor of mackerel which is yummy and salty (like French fries, but different.) It’s not only eco-friendly according to the Environmental Defense Fund, but Spanish Mackerel (not king mackerel), is relatively low in mercury content. Sadly, this is not the case for either American or European eel, which their chart tells me I should eat zero times per month due to its high levels of mercury and PCBS. Oh, unagi, I loved you so. Hopefully I will find a satisfying alternative using this handy wallet size sushi selector.
Friday, March 13, 2009
The things I love depress me
I love United States of Tara so much. But it makes me depressed because I can't ever imaging writing it.
But maybe this is because I enjoy it so much that I don't want to do the hard work of breaking it down into structure and characters with voices. Maybe I could actually.
Today was scholarship application day at school. I wrote about how I want to someday be a great writer, and tied it in with the whole Outliers thing about how it takes 10,000 hours to become a real expert at something.
It's all true, but feels fraudulent because from where I am, I can't even imagine what it must be like to be so much better that I am now, and I can't imagine how I'd get there, even with that many hours.
Plus I didn't mention that the rest of the book is basically how even if you're great at something, being born in the right place at the right time is key to being successful.
I did actually mention--which possibly wasn't that smart--that I get so anxious about the money pouring into this whole endeavor at this late date, that I consider quitting every day.
But then I get an email from someone who, twice my age, has always thought about pursuing a creative life, but couldn't push through his fears to really put himself and his work up to criticism. As he comes closer to the end of his life, the desire to have his efforts realized is as strong as ever.
I know that whatever else, I don't want to be in that place in forty years. Even if fail drastically, it seems true the cliche that I'll feel better if I know I tried.
But maybe this is because I enjoy it so much that I don't want to do the hard work of breaking it down into structure and characters with voices. Maybe I could actually.
Today was scholarship application day at school. I wrote about how I want to someday be a great writer, and tied it in with the whole Outliers thing about how it takes 10,000 hours to become a real expert at something.
It's all true, but feels fraudulent because from where I am, I can't even imagine what it must be like to be so much better that I am now, and I can't imagine how I'd get there, even with that many hours.
Plus I didn't mention that the rest of the book is basically how even if you're great at something, being born in the right place at the right time is key to being successful.
I did actually mention--which possibly wasn't that smart--that I get so anxious about the money pouring into this whole endeavor at this late date, that I consider quitting every day.
But then I get an email from someone who, twice my age, has always thought about pursuing a creative life, but couldn't push through his fears to really put himself and his work up to criticism. As he comes closer to the end of his life, the desire to have his efforts realized is as strong as ever.
I know that whatever else, I don't want to be in that place in forty years. Even if fail drastically, it seems true the cliche that I'll feel better if I know I tried.
Sunday, March 08, 2009
If I ever get to ask Brad Pitt one question
i will ask him if it's true that he and all his celebrity friends really do use the secret formula discovered by a mom to look years younger.
Saturday, March 07, 2009
Before I Get to Work
I'm feeling good about the potential of today. The weather is nice, and I just went for a lovely walk with our current house guest, Eric. I had a vague plan that we would walk to the LA County Museum of Art, and use (for the first time since I bought it) my annual pass to go in a wander around a bit, but they don't open the galleries until 11am, so instead we spent and hour looking at all the interesting architecture in our neighborhood.
Now I am home, and hopeful that I could be really productive. My plan is to work on my feature script, then my scholarship essay. USC has a variety of scholarships you can get in your second year. The application is due on Friday. I just looked at it closely last night and realized there was an essay--a detail that I somehow hadn't noticed at first...so, an essay.
I also have a few other things I should look at, but I don't want throw to many of my ambitions out there yet.
But before I launch into the awesome productiveness that today could be, I thought I would share with you the shirt I just bought from shirt.woot.com for Paul. It will probably arrive in time for our anniversary on April 8, although I guess it's not too romantic.
Now I am home, and hopeful that I could be really productive. My plan is to work on my feature script, then my scholarship essay. USC has a variety of scholarships you can get in your second year. The application is due on Friday. I just looked at it closely last night and realized there was an essay--a detail that I somehow hadn't noticed at first...so, an essay.
I also have a few other things I should look at, but I don't want throw to many of my ambitions out there yet.
But before I launch into the awesome productiveness that today could be, I thought I would share with you the shirt I just bought from shirt.woot.com for Paul. It will probably arrive in time for our anniversary on April 8, although I guess it's not too romantic.
Tuesday, March 03, 2009
Different ways to earn money
Today I was waiting to make a left turn, when up ahead I saw a pedestrian drop somethign as she crossed the street. At first I thought it was just paper, but when I actually got to turn I saw it was folded money. She had already crossed and was too far away to think my honking horn would be for her, so I pulled into a parking lot and ran out to pick it up, but it had blown into the middle of the intersection and I had to wait for the light to change again. Finally I reached it: $5.
But the lady was gone. I went in the grocery store and the clothing store on her side of the street, but couldn't find her.
I stood around for a while to see if she would appear again, but she didn't.
Then I felt kind of bad, because I'll I had done was grab somebody's lost money, which made me feel kind of dirty. I couldn't quite just put it in my wallet. There are usually a few panhandlers around, but not today. although I saw a few shabby people, I didn't want to go up to them and say "you look really shabby like you need my $5 charity. So I bought a burrito from the taco cart, figuring I could at least support a local business...plus I was hungry.
Mostly, I hope that she was someone who won't even really miss the $5. I fear that she will get to the bus stop or store and miss it a lot.
I was thinking about money today, because I went to the doctor's at UCLA, where it costs $11 to park. How much would it suck to make, say, $10 an hour, and then have to pay $11 to park for one hour? Strangely, I don't feel like I occupy that group yet, because I don't make ANY money an hour right now. But I spend such a gargantuan amount per hour for school, and I guess every time I see a doctor, that it seems minor. It might not in another year...
But the lady was gone. I went in the grocery store and the clothing store on her side of the street, but couldn't find her.
I stood around for a while to see if she would appear again, but she didn't.
Then I felt kind of bad, because I'll I had done was grab somebody's lost money, which made me feel kind of dirty. I couldn't quite just put it in my wallet. There are usually a few panhandlers around, but not today. although I saw a few shabby people, I didn't want to go up to them and say "you look really shabby like you need my $5 charity. So I bought a burrito from the taco cart, figuring I could at least support a local business...plus I was hungry.
Mostly, I hope that she was someone who won't even really miss the $5. I fear that she will get to the bus stop or store and miss it a lot.
I was thinking about money today, because I went to the doctor's at UCLA, where it costs $11 to park. How much would it suck to make, say, $10 an hour, and then have to pay $11 to park for one hour? Strangely, I don't feel like I occupy that group yet, because I don't make ANY money an hour right now. But I spend such a gargantuan amount per hour for school, and I guess every time I see a doctor, that it seems minor. It might not in another year...
Monday, March 02, 2009
Jump Start on Taxes
Yesterday, prompted by a card I received in the mail from the USC's financial aid office stating that the deadline for federal aid applications was today at midnight. Because I need some info from our tax return in order to fill it out, I spent the day doing our taxes.
Last year we did them ourselves, and the two years before that we went to H&R Block. This year I downloaded--then bought Turbo Tax, and it wasn't too painful. It still took most of the day--I always hope it won't, but truthfully, it's like the "prep time" and the actual calculations all in one. I manage to put all the W-2s (for last year I had two) 1098s and 1099s in a file as they get mailed to us, but there are always things that come up in the middle, and I need to pull out credit card statements or receipts from a box that I haven't organized yet, set up online access at companies, call my mom to ask advice, etc. All to confirm that our overall income, with two graduate students living on financial aid, still is evens out to less that zero.
The kicker was, that at the end of the day, in a panic about some "Supplemental Form" that was also required, I was informed that the deadline was not March 2, but May 5. This was confirmed by the Financial Aid website...
So I'm frustrated because of course I did no writing or schoolwork yesterday. But if I am honest with myself, tax day was going to happen, now or later, and whenever it did it was going to throw me off schedule. And this way I have time to call the one or two places who were supposed to send documents but didn't (I fear they have gone bankrupt!) and Paul can find out if his contest prize is counted and how.
If I intern over the summer instead of working, it is possible that I won't have any W-2s next year. I don't like that feeling. Even when the money is quite small, something about W-2s gives me a and odd sense of satisfaction.
Guess I should scramble through my homework now.
Last year we did them ourselves, and the two years before that we went to H&R Block. This year I downloaded--then bought Turbo Tax, and it wasn't too painful. It still took most of the day--I always hope it won't, but truthfully, it's like the "prep time" and the actual calculations all in one. I manage to put all the W-2s (for last year I had two) 1098s and 1099s in a file as they get mailed to us, but there are always things that come up in the middle, and I need to pull out credit card statements or receipts from a box that I haven't organized yet, set up online access at companies, call my mom to ask advice, etc. All to confirm that our overall income, with two graduate students living on financial aid, still is evens out to less that zero.
The kicker was, that at the end of the day, in a panic about some "Supplemental Form" that was also required, I was informed that the deadline was not March 2, but May 5. This was confirmed by the Financial Aid website...
So I'm frustrated because of course I did no writing or schoolwork yesterday. But if I am honest with myself, tax day was going to happen, now or later, and whenever it did it was going to throw me off schedule. And this way I have time to call the one or two places who were supposed to send documents but didn't (I fear they have gone bankrupt!) and Paul can find out if his contest prize is counted and how.
If I intern over the summer instead of working, it is possible that I won't have any W-2s next year. I don't like that feeling. Even when the money is quite small, something about W-2s gives me a and odd sense of satisfaction.
Guess I should scramble through my homework now.
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