aging artfully...
My first intern just got his first intern. Does this mean I'm getting old?
Labels: artsy angst, bullshit, interns
posted by SWC at 8:11 AM
and why did it touch me there?
Labels: artsy angst, bullshit, interns
posted by SWC at 8:11 AM
2 Comments:
hm. the rose-colored glasses of memory, i suppose. i'm not sure whether you're referring to my tenure as intern at New York Theatre Workshop, during which i was Ruben's intern, and you lost your job, or when I was your Assistant Director on stirring, during which i did such advanced Assistant Directorly things as working with actors on their monologues, and navigating the labyrinthine bureaucracy of FringeNYC. I don't think I've ever fetched you coffee.
SNAP.
dude. you're ALL interns to me.
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