I hope the Hamlet to my Ophelia isn't growing facial hair. I have a thing about facial hair; I can't fucking stand it. I was watching Hamlet DVDs today and it occurred to me that Steven just may very well be growing a beard or a mustache or goatee or SOMETHING and GODDAMN . . . ew. Hamlet even makes mention of his beard in his talks.

Granted, our version is modern and most modern people don't have beards unless they're Muslim or Jewish or hipsters. Even so . . . I have the most morbid feeling about it. Nothing against males, but I've never kissed a beard and I really don't want to start now.

Also, I'm posting the story I'm working on, January Brings Few Faces (so far, it's about 1/4 finished). I got the title from one of Emerson's poems. The first three pages are up on americanmouths.blogspot.com.

cheers. <3

Labels: hamlet

2 Comments:

I have a friend who is like you and no facial hair is a plus in her book. My boyfriend can't hardly grow anything since he's part Native American. My little brother is so hairy. He's happy he can grow a beard this winter.

By  Cait, at 1/24/2011 05:44:00 PM  

Beard scrape: a horrible, HORRIBLE thing.

By  L, at 4/09/2011 03:20:00 PM  

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Cady, 21 - struggling actress, harried stage manager, bored sales rep. Luckily, not all at the same time.

I love late nights and early mornings, smoking without the head rush, blue hair, eating out at three a.m., swear words, phrases that sound inappropriate out of context, my combat boots, and my cat.