I’ve just been informed that Chef and Helga received a total of 81 write-in votes in the recent USG election. That’s a little disappointing considering that a total of 9,148 students voted, but I think we ran a good campaign. We made people laugh, and we annoyed the “real” candidates, which was ultimately the point.

Yesterday’s night of sketches went reasonably well. We had fun, and people laughed. Usually in the right places. I wasn’t able to take many photographs — most of my time backstage was spent frantically changing costume — but here’s one of me as Monty Pythonesque Pepperpot.

I don’t make a very attractive women, in my humble opinion.

“You can’t be silly if you have self-doubt.”
— Terry Gilliam

Tonight, the Penn State Monty Python Society will perform its annual night of original sketches and songs (sorry, no flashy title this year). If, by some bizarre coincidence, you find yourself at Penn State this evening (10 PM to 1 AM) with nothing to do, why not swing by the Hetzel Union Building and catch the act? It’s guaranteed to be more fun than at least three of the other things you could be doing that evening.

When you’re turned down for a job only two days after you apply for it, one day after it’s moved from internal bidding, and one day before it’s offered externally, that’s a pretty good sign they were already planning to hire someone else, right? I shouldn’t take this rejection personally, right?

Job-wise, I really want to move. I’m not guaranteed a better job anywhere else, but at least I’m reasonably sure there will be more writing/editing positions for which I can apply. There are other factors, mostly meteorological and social, but the search for a better job is the driving force.

Which is why renewing my lease worries me. It may be the right decision, and it will certainly buy me some time, but can I really take another year of this?

The Monty Python Society, strange as this is to admit, has something of a following. This stems mainly from our 2001 CD, Sex, Drugs, and Graham Spanier, as well as our yearly live performances. There are people who know the material better than us, who sit in the back row and sing along politely, and who notice when we change things. They’re not even remotely interested in us — they wouldn’t, for instance, ever come to a meeting or consider joining the club — but they’re fans of our more familiar routines. The CD seems to have had a life of its own, passed around and copied across campus. It crops up unexpectedly, and (considering how few of them actually sold) I’m always a little amazed how many people have heard it.

For instance, I don’t think I know who these people are, but at least one of them knows the words to my song. It’s a strange sort of fame we seem to have gained. I wonder if any of these fans will be at Friday night’s performance.