Sophie!

I have an odd habit of comparing decisions to Sophie's Choice. Cheerios or Chex? Unscented or Woodspice Deodorant? Blue Tie or Plaid Tie? All these questions seem very difficult, much like Sophie's decision about which child to send straight to the crematorium. Daily I feel like Meryl Streep in the flashback scenes. I yell out the decisions, and when asked about them later, I need to be totally wasted to utter a single word about it. I hope that turning this haunting film into a musical comedy will allow me to deal with my pain in a slightly more socially acceptable manner.

I just can't wait to hear "Take my daughter" belted with a troupe of fellow new comers to the camp dance by.