sitting by the pool, letting the humidity dry my hair

I keep thinking I've written a new post, only to be reminded that I've only drafted half-thought ideas in the last few days (and haven't posted any of them yet - thank you, brain).

It's weird to not have the immediate demands of a show in performance everyday...which is likely why I volunteered to ASM the second company performance. I no longer handle "work in your own time" projects quite so well now that I don't eventually need to turn them in for a grade. (Things to do this summer: work on the company SM handbook, eventually enter in next season's calendar, retype scripts or else conquer the new copy machine)

At this rate, I'm never going to get that second batch of brownies done. Sorry, world.

it must be approaching payday...all I do is think about food

If my peanut butter (that I KNOW I purchased) isn't in my pantry, and isn't in my desk at work, where did it go? Is it taking a field trip with an unopened jar of queso and a seldom used tin of pepper to see the big city? I hate to tell you, various condiments and foodstuffs, but you're already in the big city.

Clearly someone was attempting to save my bank account, as the whole world neglected to tell me that HEB sells Jaffa cakes, the chocoately-orangey-Britishy-cakes that will now bankrupt me five dollars at a time.

Note to self: even if it's the one on sale, avoid the devil's food cake mix with pudding in the batter because brownies generally mean brownies, not molten piles of hot chocolately half-heartedly held together with caramel. It still tastes delicious, but it's much harder to play cards with one hand covered in chocolate.

....also

Will: the book I was talking about was "Watching the English."

I wished Good Morning America had some sort of listener call in line this morning, because I wanted to yell at them that their interrpetation of the LOST finale was so completely opposite of what [I believe] had really gone down.

Thank you, sun, for going behind that cloud.

life, lately

The previous post became oddly predictive, as I officially became one of those stage managers as of about yesterday evening. I don't know where that video file will go, but I need a copy. (No ponies in my version, though.)

We closed the children's show, and season, as of this afternoon. I'm sorta out of a job until the fall, as we all know me sitting at a desk all summer is going to be more about multi-hour games of Spider Solitaire or worse, box office coverage. While I'm plotting all sorts of projects at the moment, I don't know how many will actually come to fruition.

"Come to fruition" is a funny sounding phrase.

Some other quick takes:
* I enjoyed Zombieland way more than I thought I would, despite the (obviously) large number of zombies involved. I did have to follow it with happy fluff before I could go to bed, and naturally avoid the bathroom. (Do we all remember when I used to be sure I would someday find a zombie in my shower? Oh, college days.)

* Somebody needs to get me a copy of Tim Minchin's Matilda soundtrack, because I cannot just live on Rock and Roll Nerd forever. Also, if someone would like to ship me across ponds and get me a job with the original company staging of Tim Minchin's Matilda, that would be an even bigger thanks.

* I cannot keep track of the number of nights I've fallen asleep to the same "Wait Wait Don't Tell Me" podcast, and don't feel inclined to check the play count. I'll finish you someday, April 20th!

* Between all the gift cards currently in my possession (and that lovely $5 off anything coupon from Borders sitting in my inbox), how do I not have a package coming my way from an internet site? Why am I missing out on package tracking?

* I'm out of items.

Oh Dear.

So what's truly terrifying about the about the video of large, live action My Little Ponies lip-syncing to Dreamgirls and Wicked aren't so much the large, live action ponies as the internal light cues, quality sound system, and use of set piece as ramp mean there was a (somewhat demented) stage manager involved with this process, and we all know I'd be the sort of SM to approve my actors making a gift video like this.

I have nothing to say, but will treat you to saved pictures from my phone instead.

And how fun, no commentary either! (Why? Mostly because I've forgotten what posted in what order, and don't feel inclined to check.)

the nothing much to post post

It's starting to spit rain (of course it is, I already watered my plants), so I should maybe not bother with posting when I don't have anything special to say.

Our kitchen is no longer covered in water, and our sink has stopped producing soil, so that's two pluses. I'm not sure how soil gushing up from our drain has been the most panic-inducing part of my week (which included a missing Cheshire Cat costume found fifteen minutes before curtain and a possible impending director-going-on-as-understudy in the morning), but there you have it. Maybe because it made me wonder if I'd been drowning plants in the sink while sleeping?

You know what constantly makes me happy? This clip.

I can tell they've freshly chlorined the pool becuase sitting here is making me slightly ill. Perhaps the rain will fix that.

At first I was thrilled with the approximately 12.5 seconds it takes to brush my newly-shortened hair in the morning...until I realized that all the extra attention it's receiving makes me want to (*gasp*) style and fluff and generally girl-ify my hair. I give it two weeks before I stop caring again.

drip drip drip

THANKS

I know we all know that face I make when I get fussed over (see, for example, this morning when my cast wished me a happy birthday), but I really do appreciate the well-wishes, cards left for me to find, free ice cream (lit on fire!), whistle solos, drum sets assembled while the pianist tried to play Wipe-out, time to repot plants, free parking after 6 p.m., a particularly good Neil Diamond impersonation, the classic movie Clue, musical text messages, crunchy quesadillas, birthday mad libs, British miniseries in the mail, borrowed cars for the evening, the homemade dancing celery music video, and the watermelon Blow-Pop from the House of Blues restroom (because like I'm going to choose from their selection of perfumes when there's candy to be had).

I said it elsewhere, but I'll repeat it: if the rest of the year matches the one day trend, twenty-six is going to be awesome.

but tomorrow/there'll be sun

I forgot about this at the time, but it keeps popping back into my brain (probably because it's such a thing that I would do myself). When the Russian adoption thing first broke a couple weeks ago, one of the commentators actually used the phrase "bet you bottom dollar" (featured prominently in the musical "Annie"), and I could hear her mentally say "check! bet won!" over the rest of the segment.