I'm feeling so untalented and eighteen just now I could kick myself. "Now I know what to do with my revolver."
Our school winter production went off well -- extremely well -- and I have actually just realised that if you google the play, you could possibly find my school website, so I will not say what it was, I will only say that it was awesome
and I got to wear period clothing. One would think this would encourage my sense of self-esteem, but no, reading Feynman's memoirs, surfing deviantArt, and fucking up another social encounter has safely destroyed any lingering belief I may have had that I had -- once -- had talent somewhere. Lies! Those were lies.
(Which all makes me feel like the kid I babysat tonight. It's not faaaaaaaair! Why did my brother get to watch the Oscars and I didn't get to play video games? I won't get to play video games for a whole 'nother week! That's a long time! It's not faaaaair that he gets an extra ten minutes of reading.
William Goldman knew what he was talking about. "Life isn't fair, for the rich they sing, life isn't fair. I got a cold wife, she's brilliant, gorgeous, our marriage is loveless, that's fine. I got a fat kid, he'll always be fat, even if he weighed a hundred he'd still be fat, that's fine too. Life isn't fair." Etcetera.)
Peter O'Toole didn't win tonight. More tragically, when I got to my job, the mother, our brilliant lesbian rabbi, was going "Oh, it's Jack Nicholson, oh, it's Gael Garcia Bernal." We pan over Peter O'Toole and she goes "Oh, it's some old guy." I splutter. She goes, "What? Who's the old guy?" I explain. She stares. We share a moment of loss. Peter O'Toole: That Old Guy Who Hasn't Won Anything.
That's the extent of my knowledge about the show! I hope people who like movies enjoyed it. Based on the showing of dopplegl
the answer seems to be Y.