from the vantage of the desk

Once you put sugar in cottage cheese, you can never go back.

I very much drowned those daisies, and basically killed the entire pot due to lack of coverage from the rain. Twice.

Upon actually taking the time to nap (what? catch up on sleep?) this afternoon, I've decided I should work that into life more often.

Robin Hood tech hasn't been nearly as heinous as I'd feared, but we sometimes almost reach that line.

It's disconcerning when people tell you to do exactly what you were thinking about doing: is that supposed to be some sort of sign? Is this confirmation from the world at large?

I'm gaining an actual desk in the box office as Mr. MAK is leaving the company after twenty-five years. After a week of tech (and lack of sleep and etc.), the enormity of spending so long with one theater hit me yesterday as I was checking props before the show. In fact, it's hitting me again.

Just to catch back up, I'm still on March 18.

The punchline for that day is "The damn bursts." I like the little details in life like that.

To everyone I know (everywhere),

I realize that I never call you anymore. I also recognize that I hardly email, facebook, IM, utilize smoke signals, or otherwise try to maintain contact with *anyone* not within my Texas theater circle. Please understand that I only see them because I work with them, and therefore they are in the best position to say things like "You need to lose some stress: sit and mock Grease," or "Why are you not asleep while you can be?"

I worked on three different shows (rehearsals, performances, and dress runs) this weekend. I'm angry at myself for dropping the ball on one show, but then I get reminded (by those above) that I'm stretched a bit thin, attention span-wise, and somewhat justified (except that it's not, but I appreciate the encouragement, anyway).

I'm only on here because I'm waiting for laundry to finish before I can go on errands, and I'm avoiding for five minutes longer the awkward conversation I'm about to have re: why all the things I asked production departments to do for Red Fern apparently haven't been accomplished yet.

And then I will eat leftover pancakes for lunch. With ice cream.


(EDITED LATER TO ADD:)
Just got off the phone with the wonderful, amazing TD who was a wealth of answers and helpful advice, and just as ready to roll with things as I am at the moment. Now I'm just hoping the director will be kind enough to hold off on calling me back until tomorrow.

The distinction between my work life and my personal life is not very clear these days.

Thanks, HarrisPoll! I didn't expect a basic survey to make me laugh so much.

Send Me a Song

This is the fourth time in two days that Merv has played the same song from the Celtic Woman show. He either has a new favorite, or a new crush.

I fell asleep in a lawn chair on my patio for about an hour after rehearsal. It was so wonderfully sunny, and all the plants and overgrown weeds and things in plastic containers waiting to be planted made it so delightful.

I'm on a quest to discover a friend's middle name. The only ground rule is that I cannot openly ask (verbally or in written form) someone who might know...such as his parents, who are in town this weekend. From my end, I'm more interested in coming up with all the bizarre names that begin with "J" (I know the initial because it's an alliteration thing) rather than the proper one. Jasper? Jephetto? Jenkins?

I also have feet and a patio.

I have plants, and they must like me since they haven't died off yet during the full week it's taken me to begin to pot [some of] them. Here's to another few weeks in the original packaging!

*splash*

I cannot do justice to exactly how the faucet in our tub sounds like now. Likewise, I cannot even attempt the slow "elephant dying" (as it was dubbed) sound that I believe is related to the pipe issue causing our faucet to spill out as much water as it does when it's "off."

Furthermore, I cannot offer any better proof that Jessica and I are seldom home than the fact that it has taken the steady growth of the originally small drip this long to increase to the point of making us fix things.

subtle like a rocket

There are moments--thankfully not all the time--when I do not stop and think before I say something. Usually, this results in a snarky, smart alecky comment that may or may not be (1) true, (2) funny, or (3) what I should say at that moment.

I think I often sacrifice (1) and especially (3) for the benefit of (2).

I have entirely too much going on to be dwelling on it all at midnight.

I wish my thoughts would stop zooming around long enough for me to fall asleep. Or, in the world of other options, I wish it was warm enough outside for me to sleep out there instead, where I could chill my brain out by looking at stars (or, at least, where stars would be seen if I didn't live in the middle of a major metropolis area).

proof of the random celebrating

* Santa's elves as bowling workers
* lobster claps
* cake as means of apologizing
* dropping the ball
* new nicknames all around!
* ridiculous, pointless arguments
* hair ribbons (not actually for the birthday)

happy, happy birthday baby

All the random celebrating for the extrodinary Natalie's birthday got me thinking: for my own day this year, can I decide to turn British instead of twenty-three? I like the idea of having a justifiable reason to speak with an accent all day, logical or not.

Naturally.

I'm just keeping the bag of frozen veggies in the freezer for times like this when I wipe out in the middle of Westheimer and need something to bring my ankle back to normal again.

encore exhibit

Looking back, I can tell the day when my life suddenly became busyas that'll be the last day when I tore off my page-a-day calendar.