and now for something totally different

The Good Things About Being an Adult (because sometimes you need a reminder):

* ice cream (or popcorn or queso) for dinner

* if you decide you want a vespa, you can take some legitimate steps toward that goal

* no papers to write

* a paycheck is way better than an allowance

* you might get to wear a pretty dress

* if you still want to act like a kid sometimes, just go into children's theater

copay deductable out-of-pocket HSA

Sometimes I despise being an adult. If I hadn't just brushed my teeth, I'd rebel by eating half the candy in my pantry (and then go whine about my tummyache...)

susie sunshine

So, who else is glad last week is over?

On Sunday, not only did I eat the world's most perfect burger (with amazing bacon, of course), but I also spent a large quantity of quality re-reading the "final" drafts of everything I turned in for my senior English capstone creative non-fiction class. While I naturally remembered most of the "Jesus and the kittens" saga, I had forgotten the entire final section where I spent one final patch in the Sullivan house, then emptied of nearly all but the doors I painted all weekend.

More than anything else, this had been the hardest part to write (and it shows - it's also the roughtest, in my opinion). I was trying to write about my inability to change being completely destroyed with going head-to-head with change *everywhere*...while still not wanting to accept that change. There's an incredibly selfish six year old inside me who would never allow anything to grow or de-evolve (as it may be) from its current position--friendships, hairstyles, etc.--if she had the chance. And, though the twenty-three year old I am sometimes wins these battles, almost as often lately the six year old decides to sit in the corner and pout until she gets her way.

(I don't know that I make sense anymore.)

I guess I've just been homesick lately, now that I am full-time for as long as the Players and I play chicken about me moving to London (someday! really!) and am therefore in Texas. And I don't know that I ever got enough post-P&P rest. And sometimes it is nice--in a derranged way--to sit and sulk for a bit...as long as I remember I eventually have to be an adult and look up insurance, or whatnot.

(Side note: I used final long-ago above in quotes because I'm itching to revamp some portions...just as any girl who was looking for a way to begin writing again should. That was my other big ephiphany of the weekend; I miss not writing things, even when they were technically for a grade.)

The dream itself was just okay.

I dreamed about bacon. It was fabulous.

a new world/holds me to a promise

I could really go for a game of "Donkey Says, Donkey Does."

I have not been this angry for a long time, and (besides me not wanting to talk about it) I accidentally took it out on the managing director.

I've never felt so disconnected to friends back home, to those at work, and to my own brain.

I've been terrorized, in a bizarre way, by a constant scent of pancake syrup in the same section of the Rotunda all week long. Is someone above us cooking? Did they spill something on the carpet Sunday morning and it was never cleaned up? Am I hallucinating sweet sugary goodness? (This is somehow the least of my problems, I would guess.)

YARR!, standby sound cue Aaarrr

If it wasn't opening, and if the cues weren't as complicated as they are, I would consider using all my "talk like a pirate" points calling the show today.

beyond the popcorn and papers and kool-aid cup

There comes a point when you know you need to clean your desk, and that is when there is room for the jar of queso but *not* the bag of chips.

I dreamed last night that the box office was just like an ER, with people everywhere...and then suddenly I was fulfilling a bet with full marching band background. That part was better.

If you see an otherwise sane looking girl standing at a metro station this afternoon in a polka dot dress, it's because my tentative ride to the gala has been pulled into one last errand.

If you give me a ride instead of pointing and laughing, I'll try and sneak you in (or at least invite you to the pizza party at Saint St. that I'll now miss by having to come early).

One of these things is an in-joke, just for the sake of the in-joke

I need to do laundry.

I need to vaccum my room.

I need to balance my checkbook and finish up a few bills.

I did manage to iron my pants, if that counts.

I also managed to rewrite cues, but probably only because I promised the ASM she could look over the book as soon as I got in today.

Things are progressing on the (completely pointless, and only mildly amusing) 50 states CD mix I'm working on for entertainment sake. Rhode Island is currently my favorite (though no one can discount Delaware, the first and most colonial state).

(additionally, and obviously)

Yes, I'm back on the World Wide Web of Internet. Ah, sweet home emailing.

one word/just a word will do

I don't know what it is about Fridays that lead me to being all wonky.

holding, line one

For once, I have a legitimate reason not to be in contact with people: I'm out of internet at the apartment until further notice. The only way to fix this would be to have the time to run to Best Buy and procure a new power adapter for our router, and that won't be tonight. In the meantime...Diner Dash, BSG, and stuff on the DVR.

umbrella-ella-ella

I celebrated my final day as an A.D. Player intern by taking the day off. I bought a dress that may or may not work for the Gala in two weeks, but will work for anytime I want to pretend I actually know how to swing dance. I also received official confirmation that I was staying in stage management and box office, something I'd simply assumed and therefore never stopped to ask before now.

Today I'll be celebrating what is technically the first day as a full-fledged company member by possibly covering the entire rent check since Deb's direct deposit didn't go thru properly and--while she'll have all her money on Tuesday--rent is due today, no exceptions. It's a good thing I'm making the more-so-than-interns big bucks.

(No, mother, I still do not know exactly what that amount would be.)

I need to put together a grocery list (paycheck = food variety again!), send a reimbursment check home (from when I gave the Ops department the money to fix a toilet when we had a show that night and finance was already gone for the day), and--as always--clean my room.