So last night I went to see The Tempest at BAM and it was amazing! The theater is so Brooklynesque, as in it’s mostly brick and needs a renovation job badly (it’s a landmark), but somehow immediately felt like home. I read The Tempest a few years ago for my college Shakespeare class, but there is just no comparison to seeing a live show. The set design was probably the most exciting part of all, with the characters wading in a shallow pool of water, and the island consisting of a circle of sand in the middle of the stage. At one point, and perhaps the best point, Caliban is introduced to the stage by eerily rising up from beneath the sand, writhing and deliberately ugly. I totally just gave away the best part, but my sister gave away another thing to me, so I’ll let you in on it. As everyone was getting seated prior to the show, a haggard man is sitting with the orchestra to the side, purportedly reading his notes. As the 7:30 showtime finally hit, we soon found out he is Prospero! He rises from his chair and puts on his robe and belt and boom! (or should I say BAM) the play started. Geniussss. Also genius, Bank of America is the play’s sponsor. Double BAM!

I finished Chelsea Handler’s Are You There Vodka? It’s Me Chelsea this weekend. Mostly picked it up because of all the hype and it pretty much delivered. Reminded me of another collection of essays, Sloane Crosley’s I Was Told There’d Be Cake, which I read last month and thought was hilarious. They’re both funny, witty, quick-reads, and recommended for when you’re not in the mood to think that hard. Also, I’m thinking if I ever actually write a book, this is probably what it would look like. Short, autobiographical stories about nothing. (Ahem, my blogs, ahem).

Short autobio story of the day: I lost my cell phone at a restaurant last week and I was convinced that I left it in the bathroom and someone stole it. I had the entire staff on alert, and we even went through the garbage where the manager said people oftentimes hide things to pick up later (drug deal, hello!). This accusatory inclination was the direct result of a previous stolen cell phone fiasco, in which I used my observational skills to pinpoint the perpetrator and was ultimately reunited with my beloved Blackberry. As I tried to imagine what my life would be like without my phone, I was left with many question marks and much uneasiness. Technology is ridiculously irreplaceable, therefore unreliable, but my dependence on the little gadget is immense, my love for it, irrevocable. I found it on the floor face down under my table, and only because my metro card, which fits perfectly behind my phone case, was peeking out of the camera hole, showing a bit of white in the darkness. Catastrophe avoided! Lesson semi-learned.

Rachel Lily