I know better than to use such crappy ink to write on my hand.

My happiness that Spotlighter is over (and--more importantly--no longer my concern for a year) is tinged by sadness that the quotes I wrote on my hand were already fading before I got home. There was a Lee Walker zinger and everything!

In regards to awardness (I don't think she actually called it the growth award this year, so I'm not sure that I'm actually destined to leave within this season), I appreciate the sentiment...though I feel it more sincerely from those who talked to me afterward with congrats and hugs. I'm not always the most confident in my stage management abilities (and, at times, that can be a major understatement), so I should probably just take the compliment and tell my inner doubts to shut it.


[I first typed up this post Wednesday morning after Spotlighter. I hadn't gotten around to posting it (until now, I hope) because I'd been trying to draft out in my head the small argument that had been going on in the meantime. The basics:

1. I'm annoyed that we keep choosing to spotlight me, because there are other deserving people in this company who do amazing, above and beyond work (and I know how much time I spend on BubbleSpinner.

2. About 95% of what I do I wouldn't call going beyond the call of duty (or doing royal work, whatever that means JCG), but label as "being a good stage manager." By pointing me out as an example, I feel like that's providing justification for those who don't work as hard as they could to be content with their "average" performance.

3. I haven't yet unjumbled all my thoughts about how I don't want to live in Texas for the rest of my life (and how that somehow was brought up by one measly little bouquet), so just know that all that goes here.

The farther life gets from the drain that is Spotlighter Night (and how ironic is it that an evening set up to honor the company ends up dragging it through the emotional gutter?), the calmer my reaction will surely become. Again, I am happy that people think I'm swell (and I'll use it in the future when I need to remind myself that I'm swell), and I'll try to dwell only on that half.]

yum, yum carrots

I don't know where the emo teenager that wrote that last post when, but she's happily (well, as happy as emo teenagers can be) shuffled off again. Maybe it's because I've had a morning full of paperwork, which--counter intuitive as it may seem--puts me in a good mood.

Let it be noted (per usual, unrelated to the above thought), if I have a choice between running Spotlighter and just coming out as Ta-Daa (as currently notated in the script), I'm totally going for the bug. If I can't wear a swanky dress, I might as well not dress up at all.

not that any of the toys on my computer are trolls...

I think (now that I've stopped to ponder and not just push out a really muddled post) that my weird melancoly popping up all evening comes from finishing "Neverwhere" again and having my own thoughts of whether this enough in life. Work, eat, hang with friends, watch a movie, sleep, etc. ... where are my great grand adventures?

Probably part of this is also that I already threw out an offer to hitch off to London again, having finally finished posting pictures (and, I don't know, needing to take new ones?)

I'll probably be okay by tomorrow morning. In the meantime, I can add the following (along with S. Sondheim and high school emails) of people/things that are not helping: James Horner, the headache behind my left eye, the need for post-show dinner


[nearly immediate edit to add things that do help: picturing my mother watching Ace of Cakes on hulu, the Jeff Healy Band, patrons trying to use my (locked) office door to leave the theater]

...in order to steal cheese

I don't know what's about to go down, but my hair has already been informed as it's in classic Type A version of the hair flip (which will hopefully go for option 1 over option 2).

Sorry, I do weird punctuation when I'm hungry.

unrelated to anything else in the world, but I want to remember it forever: my new favorite game is picturing Cooksey in Samuel L. Jackson roles

As much as I love doing paperwork (and I seriously and unironically love putting together an Excel spreadsheet tracking tech pieces for a show), I think all stage managers should get to take Friday off from paperwork and--I don't know--go to Borders instead. I'm finding it hard to focus on this costume change breakdown with the knowledge that I don't have to be at work tomorrow floating in the not-so-back of my brain. Also, I'm doing box office coverage, and if that's not an excuse to goof off between phone calls, I don't know what is.

NOW is when I've forgotten about you for a week [plus]

Things that I should've accomplished before now:

* sending in this crappy loaner phone

* posting London pictures, because really

* sending off postcards from London, because really really

* learned all the words to "By My Side," as I've listened to it on repeat for approximately the past hour rather than letting my ipod cycle on to the next soundtrack