Is there a more joyful scene in cinema than when the Oneders [that's the ONE-ders] hear their song on the radio for the first time? (If so, I don't want to know about it. Thanks.)

I'm not sure why, but my copy of That Thing You Do! is now randomly pulling up the subtitles mid-play. I'm not selecting them, and then go away when I turn the subtitles [back] off, but it's weird.

Phase two of mailing Christmas cards went out today - hurrah! Progress! Goodness, it's easy to mail things when you actually have *stamps.*

It's a good thing I have a variety of food in the house, because that makes it [slightly] easier to move past sitting on the couch and eating nothing but goldfish crackers. (Have we talk about how I'm essentially nine? I thought I'd aged up a bit, but I was wrong.)

Oh, Regional Holiday Music, how much I love you. You, and Baby Boomer Santa. And Danny Glover's facial expressions.

I burned my pizza, but I'm eating it anyway.

* I can't stop listening to this same Macklemore and Ryan Lewis song, which is weird since I normally don't like rap music. Chances are though, if you've seen me with headphones on in the office over the past two weeks, I'm still listening to "Can't Hold Us."

* I have functional hot water in my tub again, which is notable if only because I no longer have to wash like it's 1812. (Thanks for the training, fort years.)

* Two other techies and I spoke to a group of eighth graders today about what we do and why techies are the real reason shows happen [at least, that's all I cared about]. I sold stage management, as I always do, as getting to tell people what to do. I hope that doesn't backfire on their show.

* Today I also looked up for review of the new Spice Girls based musical (they were less than zigga-zigga-ah), Oscar nomination short lists, and how long Allie and Noah were apart in "The Notebook." I promise I did work, also.

Excuse me while we practice dropping a tree on an actress. Theater life, how glamorous!

This is me feeling bad about not posting, and then turning into even more of an emo teenager than I already felt.

Hello, today I feel atrocious. I have a headache that has only gotten worse, and no amount of free chocolate left at my office door or videos of Adam Savage recreating movie props or interviews with new DW cast members have cut back on the general funk an all-day headache causes.

Happy things:
* I love reading the books I'm going to give away as family Christmas presents, as it makes me pick up things I wouldn't normally and then I don't have to make room for them on my shelf.

* New 30 Rock tomorrow!

* Christmas crafting

* Discovering there's a large variety of blueprints online to create a TARDIS out of LEGO. I like when geekery combines.

Things I probably don't need to keep in my wallet:

* The Continental Airlines wings I gained in 2006 [post 2006 London trip]

* a book of one cent stamps (when all the other stamps are own are forever stamps)

* an address that I later found out was incorrect

* a one-day Missouri fishing license

* a small rubber snake

* that Staples gift card I've magically *not* spent in the past two years

* A receipt from two months ago that has a midly funny quote on it.

* All those pennies. I mean, really.

Costumes that didn't work out:

Because I'm such a visual person, I have a whole file on my computer of inspiration pictures of Halloween costume ideas. One or two have actually happened (I finally deleted my Mary Poppins folder a few months ago), but most are possibilities from the past or for the future that haven't managed to happen yet. [And some that didn't even make it to the picture stage, they were dropped so quickly.]

Kaylee - Oh, Firefly's Kaylee. I've been thinking about putting together this costume for, oh, five years? I'm probably one decent-priced jumpsuit away from going crazy on this one. Really, that's the only big hang up, seeing as I probably have everything else already in my closet.

Zombie Jane Austen - I ended up being Mary Poppins instead.

This was probably a good swap.

River Song as Cleopatra - This was my plan for last year, but then nobody had a party. I liked that it meant I got to be a Doctor Who character ... who is disguised as a real historical figure that I wouldn't have to explain to anyone. (Those in the know would've appreciate the exploding TARDIS Van Gogh print, I bet.)

Lady Sif - The same time I wasn't Cleo/River Song, I also wasn't part of a four person team of Thor's friends, Lady Sif and the Warriors Three. The best part was the boots with wings - I wish I could have those for real life. (I also wish they were acceptable for wear in real life.)

Liz Lemon - How did this not happen this year? Surely all I needed to do was print a ID badge and buy a bag of Spanish language cheese twists. I blame work schedule for preventing even that small effort.

River Song from 'Angels Take Manhattan' - I have pearl earrings and the hat. That's as far as I got. [I really just want to be River Song. Who doesn't want to rock heels, shoot bad guys, and banter with the Doctor.]

Miss Congeniality - Would it surprise you to know that I have a sparkily full-length gown in my closet? Any year that I actually put together a costume, this has been my backup if the Plan A doesn't work out. I mean, why not - all I'd need is to borrow a gun from the theater's prop shop and make a sash, and I'm ready to be Sandra Bullock.

GOD BLESS

I am thankful for TAA parents who buy too much food for showcase day, orchestra covers of pop songs, and the giant bag of carrots leftover from last night's Bunnicula preview event (and it's good friend, Bowl of Ranch Dressing).

this is not the return post I was planning

The past week I've been scrounging together all the scraps of paper of started posts, messages saved in text drafts, and other bits of non-posts posts from the past two months of nothing.

This is not that.

Instead, this is me celebrating upping my text messages, as it's ridiculous to me that I ever lasted on 250 per month for as long as I did. Ah, five year ago Hannah, who couldn't believe she'd ever use so many! (This is clearly before I was stage managing many shows. I can't possibly SM without texting anymore, as that's my best way to track down late actors AND share snark with the ASM.) But three months in a row of overage charges (and many a month before of being mad at people - don't they know I'm almost at my limit?!) means this is probably the best investment to make. Also, think of all the pictures I'll post on Twitter now that I don't have to choose between that and sending my designers information from rehearsal!

Fun fact: this *still* does not make it okay to text me just "K" in response to information.

I'm still alive. Snark Monster is still alive. (These are separate, yet very important items.)

Life is happening - Charley, Sherlock, NASA, family visits, sport stacking, beaching, keeping all my fingernails (except for the thumbs, which I chewed off during last night's awful rehearsal), and etc.

Someday I'll update more specifically again.

Tomorrow: six years

Things about Texas:

* You develop opinions about guacamole and queso.

* You learn to live with humidity reappearing in February.

* "Winter" is the magical time when you start to wear a jacket--a light jacket.

* The metro is the friend to the friendless. (Actually, the car-less.)

* If you haven't jumped in a pool by the end of May, you're wasting your life. (See also: go to Galveston on your Monday off, take the NASA tram tour, and free museum Thursday)

* Much like other circumstances where only the people closest to a subject are allowed to disparage it, you now are allowed to hate on the Astros.

Happiness is [something I've lost track of lately.]

I don't know what it's been with this show -- whether I've never fully bounced back from my long run of shows, or aren't as sharp after taking vacation, or a lovely combination of both -- but I've felt off my game during the rehearsals of this show. Let me tell you, that's a shaky place to stand as a stage manager. (Also, anyone who has seen me these past two or so weeks: sorry I've been an un-fun, sleepy ball of stress.)

Instead of that: things over the past month that have brought me happiness:

* Bacon. (I mean, it should always be on lists like this, but there's something that explodes with joy when I eat bacon after a rough rehearsal.)

* Whenever a friend listened to me work through my frustrations, sent a cheery text message, passed along a music recommendation, asked if I needed dinner, took me to dinner, and many other things. (I hope none of you took it personally when I just wanted to be left alone, also, whatever your best intentions. Sorry that I sometimes need to be hermit to like people again.)

* Delayed birthday presents: I am so okay with this. I mean, I don't want them all to be delayed, but they're a fun pop-up a month later.

* The country western version of the Star Wars cantina song toward the end of the movie "Paul" - the best part of an otherwise whatever movie. (Excuse me while I remember to check itunes to see if it's available for download.)

* Running in the rain Saturday on the way to the theater. Related: knowing I had a change of clothes waiting for me at the theater.

* The hot water pressure magically working again in my kitchen. Okay, so it wasn't magic - friendly apartment workman Jose fixed it, as he has many other things at the complex. He also left behind a small mess, as he has many other times. (I like to think of me cleaning up after his repair as taking part in the process.)

* The begonias someone else left to die by the street, roots exposed and drying, that now live in my office - you're one of the best things I've ever found on the sidewalk.

* Nicknames.

I'm still alive, I'm currently eating mashed potatoes (and will eat bacon when I go home after rehearsal), and I haven't been completely overwhelmed by tech week yet. We'll call that enough for now.

sorry, this is just longer than twitter

This isn't the sort of show you can get away with wearing heels while stage managing, as there are sizeable set pieces to move at intermission and I'm fond of both my ankles in non-snapped form. However, I don't have socks stashed under my desk anymore as I've done laundry since the last time I ran a show. Actors, I see your point: I don't want to chance the questionable box of unclaimed, possible unwashed spare socks gathering dust in the corner of the dressing room, either.

I'm going to need to backdate some things.

I keep drafting posts on my laptop at home, but that doesn't help me much as the internet does not live in my apartment (and I haven't been able to pick up the hotel's wifi in ages). Oh well.

We're already blocking the summer show, which means I'm already rewriting blocking. It's tedious, but I like that I can turn on music or (if the blocking isn't very involved) a movie for background noise. I'm also covering the mainstage performances this weekend, so I'm essentially jumping from completely free to completely booked. (I don't think I know how to live any other way.) Please think kind thoughts and prayers for me this evening around 10:35, as that should be approximately when I'm conducting the cast through the ending musical tableau from the booth. I think of high school drum major try-outs every single time I rehearse.

Unrelated to anything: someone is going to need to stage an intervention between me and the song "Run Daddy Run" on the Hunger Games soundtrack. Because I mean really. [and hit repeat]

I'm about eight minutes from my airport ride showing up in the office, Les Miz is blasting from the speakers, I have the MS1 script packed to read on the play (because I'm super excited about "---"), and my vacation outbox message has been on for I-won't-say-how-long. Let's do this.

things are gonna be great / at 28

So maybe it'd be considered cheating to specifically pick the new birthday song, but I don't really care. My rules, my game. Besides, "In the Light" reflects (ha) what I didn't feel I did well this past stressed-out year, and hence what I need to keep working on this year. (And isn't it nice to have a song that I actually know the words to rather than a general knowledge of melody and chorus?)

[Fun fact: it's the Truman male a capella group True Men's version that plays in my head, no disrespect to dc Talk. (I wish I could find a link to share.) Further fun fact: it's the same version I played over and over the first week I lived in the new apartment (before Jessica moved in) to help me fall asleep. I was on a flat mattress--or the couch, depending on the day--and there was crying. Bless you, younger Hannah.]

Sometimes I like playing "follow the margin citations," which is how I jumped around the Old and New Testaments last night, though originally starting in Psalms. We need the light, whether as a scientific principle or a symbolic representation of God. Light warms us, nutures us (whatever vitamin I don't get enough of because I'm always inside a dark room ... and growing the leafy things I don't usually eat unless there's a burger attached), and guides us through and out of darkness. One of the first verses I've learned due to theater is from the top of John: "The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness does not comprehend it." The light that we need so badly to survive is a mystery to the darkness it conquers, just as it is a mystery to us who naturally have that same darkness in us. (Who here really remembers all the talk in science class about photosynthesis or electricity? Science Major David, please don't buzz in.) Maybe all this made more sense in my brain last night at midnight-ish, or even this morning drafting it on the bus. I just know I can be petty, and intentially mean, and I sometimes lie to actors (even when it's not to their benefit), so I need the light as much as I can soak up at any given time.

I don't care that there's now a separate spot to add a post title. I'm going to keep using the one bit of HTML programming that I know to make this line appear like it does.

I'm still at work for a couple of reasons, though none of them are that it's weird to have a show tonight that I don't have to stay here to run. (This is such a good thing, I cannot even express it.)

At this point, I'm still here because (1) the internet is slow, and things I wanted to take care of during the day haven't been accomplished yet and (2) I was gifted a large mug of Butterbeer (oh, the sweet caramel literary-inspired goodness), and I'm not going to let it go to waste (or sit in a spot where actors will drink it instead of me. The jerks.)

"Jerk" seems to be my insult of the moment, which I guess bears documenting. I don't know; I'm full of sugar right now, I fly to Missouri in a week, see "The Avengers" at midnight tomorrow, and I was handed Cardinals tickets for this weekend to go with my Butterbeer. This is either the universe apologizing for my often stressful 27th year, or wishing me an extra special early 28th.

Something Missouri Hannah never would have said: "Guacamole, I love you."

(I just said that sentence aloud in my otherwise empty office. Of course I did.) It's still weird not being at the theater in the evenings. (I guess other people think so, too, as I had a few ask me if I was at Saturday's rehearsal because I missed being part of the process.) It's really on this week that I've started spending more time out and about, rather than clinging to all my precious time sitting on the couch. (Dear couch, I love you. Yes, more than guacamole.) * I'm helping out with props right now, which is how I've quickly learned how to address letters, German-style. (Hint: the numbers are switched around from American.) This is also much better than typing scripts for captioning. * These fish tacos I have for lunch are *so good,* I'm actually glad that it only takes one to fill me up. * I feel like there's something a bit off with Whataburger sponsoring the Bollywood film I'm watching on Hulu right now. Are they aware of what happens to cows there? * Gosh, there's lots of open white space in the new Blogger template design. I am not a fan. * Someday, I will not be stuffed up or dripping from the nose or generally completely well once more, and then I shall celebrate. This is not going to happen for a few days, I think. * Probably a vital step to keeping the plants in the office window growing would be remembering to water them. Sorry, Easter-themed plants.

I'm still at work because this is where the internet lives.

(Not that I don't enjoy sitting by the side of the pool at my complex and picking up whatever unsecured wi-fi happens to be floating by on the breeze. I just don't want to be that person who is always there.)

C. suggested that Kat and I buy one of those themed party places, where kids come for fairy tale themed tea or whatnot. (These are the things people talk about when we're stressed about work, apparently.) I'd be all for that, if it wouldn't wipe out all my savings and force me to continuously work with kids and probably end in me punching a parent while wearing a frilly dress. (Let's call this post-ADP Plan E.)

Could someone else please be as excited for the new J.K. Rowling book as I am, regardless of the lack of new Harry Potter? Maybe my excitement is because I want to pretend that it *is* new HP, pre-ordering it and finding a place to pick it up at midnight, and then devoting the next few days of my life to finishing. (And then crying because there was no Hermione to be found among the characters.)

the word "volume" never looks like the proper spelling. In fact, I just checked it again.

So I guess it's good that I haven't bought any sort of plane ticket north yet, as the final audition day keeps moving all over the calendar, and especially all over the two weeks I'd originally blocked out for travel. I'd already given up on April as too soon (especially now that it actually is April), and at this point I'm fine giving up my birthday to auditions if that means I can still take the rest of that week for vacation.

Somewhat notice, ADPers: auditions might be May 8. Don't quote me.


The leftover ice cream cup from Saturday's rehearsal is about to become the best part of my lunch, as this Mediterranean chicken tastes neither like chicken or Mediterranean food. Dear leftover chicken casserole sitting in my fridge: I miss you.

check concession cookies

(stashed in my show notebook)

No one has asked, but how do I memorize my called cues? (I seldom know what light cue I'm in at the Mainstage, as the bright monitor decreased my ability to see in blackouts ... and that board doesn't tend to jump cues at random.) Sometimes it's as simple as "on the word 'please,' we're at SQ P" - sometimes a farther spaced association, such as "where the frak is [actor]?!" at SQ F.

as they are in fact downers

Second graders really don't care about what stage managers do, except when it means they get to play with light and sound buttons. This shouldn't surprise anyone, but boy was the point hammered home by the time we reached the third group during today's workshop.

I wish I had more reasons to make stenciled tshirts, as it's really quite simple (well, pending the pattern), and I love peeling off the paper to reveal the crisp edges. Love, love, love that.

My brother earned major brownies points today not only by sending me a just-because package, but also for the enclosed note talking about how you can never have enough packages...unless they contain human fingers.

I, like the rest of the world, love streaming CDs before choosing to purchase them, and thus have spent the afternoon (such as I've been in the office) with the dulcet folk tones of songs to kill children by. Thanks, internet.

Also thanks: I just entered a contest for a trip to London (as you do) ... for a trip next week. I'm sure I'm not doing anything important like Easter rehearsal and such.

94% at 6:03

There's a song in my head, but I can't remember the artist ... or any of the lyrics ... or much of the music. It's basically the same three bars on loop. (Also, the music video is really depressing - an older guy who always sees the same older woman in a laundromat, but never hast he courage to talk to her - until he finally goes to her apartment and finds out she passed away.) HELP.

I probably did not help the situation last night by coming out to the lobby, bursting into laughter, and yelping "HA! That's awesome!" in front of the crowd stuck on either side of the off-its-hinges glass lobby door. (This is why I quickly took over box office to help the successful who were already inside.)

Golfish Pretzels take nearly everything I love out of Goldfish crackers. I speaking, of course, about cheese.

We're approaching the one year anniversary of my move. Yikers.

Last night I dreamed not only that I was in a booth, helping call a show (not the SM--just there as actually a rather pushy observer), but also then helped load-out the set into a large truck...which was somehow parked in the church hallway. Jeepers. And some of the staff isn't a fan of us *now,* when we do basic things like park outside.

However, this is part of why I can't motivate myself to do anything productive today. I've clearly already done a full day's work - it just happened to occur in my subconcious. (I imagine I'm not allowed to tally that on my company time sheet.)


Yesterday I checked out a book from the library, one that I'd been looking forward to reading from a Southern chick-lit author I like (no judging!) ... only to start reading it at the bus stop this morning and realize I'd already read it before. How did I forget a whole book in the space of a year? (I mean, beyond all the crazy....)

I refuse to wear the sleeves when snuggled in my slanket. I'd rather see myself in a large, leopard print robe.

(Sometimes it's good that I work in theater rather than a real office job.)

Two days ago I realized I couldn't remember which leg had the scar from minor surgery in high school. (Hey there, non-cancerous mole!) This drove me way crazier than it should've. (Fun fact: right leg)

I've decided to be my mother [hold for gasping] and play the year-long version of the license plate game. You could say this is because my version of the road trip is my daily bus ride. However, it's mostly because I keep seeing a Massachusetts plate in my area and I feel like I should take advantage of that score. Also, it goes along with my natural tendency to create lists ALL THE TIME, so that's a double score.

Related! Bands/Musicians/Pieces I would like to hear live (if, you know, I didn't always have to work)
* Flogging Molly (if this had been it's own post, the title would've lamented not seeing Flogging Molly, Celtic punk band extraordinaire, on St. Patrick's Day. AGAIN.)
* OK Go
* Stravinsky's "Firebird" (though I did sit in my office and listen to it live from Royal Albert Hall)
* The Bangles
* Dvorak's "New World Symphony" (which was scheduled the weekend Ike hit - and then reschedule opening weekend for a show I worked)
* The B-52s (Were at the zoo. I had to work.)
* Billy Joel
* Elton John
* Billy Joel and Elton John together, when they reunite to tour together *again*

he-ey guys!

So let's not talk about yesterday where I was kinda Jerk of the World and spent the last half hour of the regular work day searching for other jobs around town.

Let's instead look at the things which have increased my happiness (which is almost the same as decreasing my stress, no matter what Leroy [and Myrtle, which is what I'm naming the stress knot on the other side - please see Mr. Latore for any explanations] may claim):

* Item 1: This picture, which is from the actual front page of today's "Daily Telegraph."
God bless the Brits.

* The water fight scene in last night's Parks and Rec likely is the funniest thing I've seen this year (I don't care that we're only two months in - the point stands). Go to Hulu while you can, as I have no other link to provide you. (FACT: I laughed so loud and long, I had to pause the video and explain to Sparky what was going on)

* I love these shoes. Sorry, I don't have a picture.

* But I have this picture instead:
And, really, isn't this what the internet needs more of rather than another picture of my shoes?

maybe these headaches will stop when February does?

I just now looked over at the desk phone and realized it said "March 1." Silly phone, why didn't anyone tell you it was Leap Year? Part of me wants to not say anything and see how long the phones sit on the wrong day, but the other part of me sees the incorrect date as only adding to all the things that currently feel off (and we all know it would take awhile to be fixed, anyway - why prove it?)

You can take or leave it./This is who I am. (REPEAT.)

Songs I've had a hard time moving past this week:

* Little Big Town - Boondocks: (In fact, I'm listening to it right now. I went back to make sure I had the right artist, and then I couldn't stop myself from playing the whole thing.) I don't know, I guess the vague Midwest overtones of the song drive deep down to my Missouri soul. I also dig the four part harmony, as would any ex-high school choir member.

* Dixie Chicks - Lullabye: This makes me want to pick up guitar again. Also, spin in circles. (Possibly both at once, but I'd have to work up to that.)

* Dar Williams - Cold Missouri Waters: Not only is this one of the more depressing songs on my player, but it's also on my list of "songs I have to listen to at least three times in a row before moving along." Yet, I can't get enough of the fire, and dying, and thirteen crosses high above the cold Missouri waters. [Fun fact: I have absolutely no idea why I would've originally downloaded this song.]

* Spring Awakening - Don't Do Sadness/Blue Wind: I really have no desire to see Spring Awakening, but goodness! The strings! The orchestrations! Lovely! Also, (when I am in a location where it would not be awkward) I enjoy belting along with the lead singer his "YOU KNOW! I don't do SADDDDDD-NEEEEE-ESS!" Oh, little emo boy.

"But what if these post-its have always been friends and now they can't talk to each other if I put them in separate desk drawers? They'll *hate* me!"

Of all the movie choices I could've made while cleaning around the office today, "Brave Little Toaster" probably shouldn't have been my pick. Though now I know why I couldn't remember any plot points from the film, despite being sure I'd seen it as a child - clearly I repressed everything due to it being so confounded depressing/frightening. Mr. Fireman Clown, whispering "Run!" with more menace than I've ever heard anything: I do not look forward to seeing you in my dreams tonight.

"tech-annual" is not the right phrase, as linguistically that implies I only do this once per year...and we know what a laugh that is, right?

How have I not yet posted about needing happy thoughts for tech week? Probably because it wasn't on my to-do list.

* My 11 a.m. Vitamin C drop. Seriously. (My nine year old self just died a little.)

* The NYE helium balloons that are still in my office, even if they're deflating more and more.

* CMS sending me that pack of Doctor Who minifigs. (I'll send you my spare Cyberman.)

* Tonight I get to go home to a DVR full of classic movies, 30 Rock, and Project Runway. Also, bed.

* Oh, campfire spork, you know I love you most of all.

Yeah, I'm not actually paying attention to this best documentary nominee. They're not gonna give the award to the tree-huggers anyway.

Dear bug bites, Where did you come from? It isn't bug season, nor am I spending enough time outside on any given day to receive bites from the non-existant insects.
Perplexedly yours, H


Shoot. I had something else. Bah.

This campfire spork is the best investment of all my Christmas shopping.

I realized today that I posted so much in college (as compared to now) because I didn't have Twitter then, and fluffed out my thoughts into paragraphs to justify their existance.

Also, I had papers I didn't want to write. That was kinda big, too.

So.

I'm sorry for being a bit over-dramatic lately. I'm not rethinking all my life choices--let's just say I'm evaluating a few of them. (Dear SP: I don't know what I would do if I weren't an SM either, so that likely won't change soon. Love you!)

If you include the special events of the past two seasons (which I do, because half of them involved a difficult director), this is the eleventh thing in a row I've stage managed for the company. I hasten to add that I feel beyond thrilled to be constantly employed--in my degree field, of all things--especially when I check in on my fellow theater majors online (all the baristas, dog walkers, office workers, and even actual theater workers). But everyone eventually reaches their edge of sanity, and I've been teetering for awhile.

I didn't get into theater for money (only an idiot would), but I can't pay my rent on the satisfaction of a job well done. And I don't want this even to be about money (see again: idiots in theater, above). You don't grow up in a home parented by a state employee and a teacher, yet think money is all there is to life. (Dear Mom and Dad: Thanks. This was a good thing.) I'm just a little tired of being stuck at work all the time, and being told I'm doing good work by people who don't always understand what exactly I do, and calling that enough.

I'm feeling antsy about life, but haven't figured out where that's leading me to jump next. (Or, maybe I'm supposed to just sit back. Working on it.)

going through last week's rehearsal notes

Why I'm Not An Actor (Reason #...um):
DIRECTOR: Want to go back and try that again?
ME: Oh, CRIPES, no!


HEADACHES:
* Director 1 talks with Director 2
* Director 1 announces Plan A
* SM agrees to Plan A
* Directors arrive at rehearsal
* SM tells Actors Plan A
* Director 1 tells Actors Plan B
* Actors get set for scene
* Director 2: "Is this C? Let's do Plan C."
* HEADACHE


There's nothing as awkward as one actor trying to vamp through a line that's supposed to be cut off by another actor...who is trying vainly to get her page turned.


Dear actor currently giving the costume designer copious ideas about what she will or will not wear for the show: please enjoy the equally copious stick pins that will be "accidentally" left in all of your costumes.

come on out here pineapple

This morning I was thinking about the guy that I always used to see at the bus stop, every workday morning for months. One day he couldn't find his card and didn't have any change, so he asked me to borrow a dollar "because I see you here everyday." I agreed, so of course this was the last time I ever saw him. I'm sure there's any number of rational reasons why he would disappear from my morning routine, but I prefer to see it as the weirdest long con ever.

I came into work this morning to find thank you cards from two of my BCPE kids. One thanked me for helping her find her halo once when it was lost. Sometimes you know why you do what you do. :)

AWESOME!*

I feel like crap (somewhat suddenly and without warning+), which would usually be okay with it being all almost tomorrow and thus time for sleeping ...

... except my laser-like skill of ALWAYS SEEING THE STUPID COCKROACH~ just kicked in, and I now feel extra crappy after chasing a bug around my living room until it was dead under one of my many shoes that I leave strewn around the apartment for just such a reason.^ So this is me drinking some of that immunity-boosting nonsense and eating crackers and hope that I can fall asleep soon and not think about the fact that I was going to wear those shoes tomorrow."




*Not actually awesome. This is called sarcasm, and readers of the blog should be familiar. If not, please leave now - this will just be confusing.

+This is totally not without warning. I normally snack constantly at my desk, but haven't for the past three days. My body is probably shutting down completely without the extra calories.

~A blessing and a curse: I know the suckers are dead, but thus can't fool myself into thinking that mine is the only apartment in Houston where they don't live. (Also I can't rest

^Nope. There are just too many of them to care. There are six pairs in this room alone, including the cowboy boots on the opposite couch.

"Psh. Not now, I won't.

posting here rather than Twitter to delay the panic among my actors

THE SCARIEST WORDS IN THE WORLD (regarding tonight's rehearsal): "...and I asked them, 'Don't you want an understudy to read that tonight?' and he said 'No, apparently [she's] just going to talk tonight.'

Here, Mr. Shane. Now we can discuss the Spice Girls.

But more specifically, you have no idea how much I'd love to hear if you have an opinion on the Spice Girls movie. In fact, I'd happily mail my copy north to you, just for such an occasion. (Somewhere, Merefin and Angelfish are giggling.)

I just finished reading our K4 Cinderella script. I wonder what it says about where I am in life that I'd rather Cindy end up with the Jester than the drip of a Prince. Why shouldn't she go for the person who actual works to improve her life (and points out that she has a fairy godmother!) rather than the guy who only pops up briefly AND uses the same line about sighing TWICE. Maybe it's because I'm not a cheesy line person (despite my unrelated love of this) but c'mon? "There's that draft again! ... people always sigh when they see something beautiful" is just awful.

I didn't think this through beforehand, but ha--excuse me while I go sweep and mop the stage. (What! I need to tape it out! ... If I can pretend to be a fairy tale character at the same time, why not? Clearly I'm not too mature yet.)

I'm gonna need to backdate something after I write this, because this wasn't how I wanted to start the year.

Last night, as I sat through forty minutes of back and forth "I don't know - what do you want to do?" (and the only answer in my brain was RETHINK MY LIFE CHOICES), I already knew this was not going to be an easy audition process. But, as of tonight, if I have to sit through an hour of hemming and hawing, "I don't know"s, and back in the day reminiscences every night after rehearsal, I'll quit this job by tech week. I just really can't deal with it anymore, not after dealing with those kids for three months, not after this many shows in a row. My last bit of flexibility went out the window in giving Mr. Walker a show he could be proud of this summer, and I've been coasting ever since.

Unrelated to any of the above (but don't we need a change of subject now?): my Sondheim book has somewhat ruined my pop music ear. I mean, nothing can totally kill my pop music ear (I fully expect myself to be the awesome 80 year old who can sing Spice Girls songs), but I can almost *feel* the off rhyme when a song tries to pull out, say, "car" and "arm." (The slurry country twang helps more than my typing, but still.)