Well, today is the moment of truth. I have to decide if I want to reach for a fantastic role (written for someone like me) that I have slim chances of getting with a director I'm not incredibly fond of (who likes me), or if I want to practically be guaranteed one of several silly roles in a play I loathe with the most fantastic director in the universe (who loves me). Viola/Cesario in "The Twelfth Night" or one of countless inanimate, ambiguously gendered objects in "The Little Prince". I think I'm going to have to go with "Twelfth Night". It's the only way I'll be in Mr. Blayes good book for the musical next year. Mrs. Felice will understand that I just want to try Shakespeare, and that I'd rather try out for Jesuit any day of the week. Rarg.