30 March 2006

another show

yes, that's right - i'm getting the barfies again. i don't even need a clock anymore to tell the time on a show night. how pathetic is that? tonight we're opening and julie had to call me to give me "just a couple more notes" before we get going. it was adorable really. i think she figures that this might be the last time she ever gets to direct me, so she damn well is going to do it right. i'm obligingly taking the beating i deserve after giving her so much shit on past shows where we've worked together. seems like an even trade to me. one of us might even be coming out ahead, though i'm still unsure as to which one of us it is. teehee!

there hasn't been too much for me to say in the past week. a lot of mulling and perusing and wondering, but it's mostly been the recycling of things i've been thinking about for the last month. at least i'm practicing my good recycling skills before i get out there. speaking of which, tim came up with a great use for all that shredded paper! it's funny how the solution of using it as packing material just slips your mind when you're in a purging mode, and we know there will be someplace handy to drop it off in noho when we finish unpacking. sheesh, noho. look at me, getting all assimilated and shit. will i turn into a california borg? eep.

tim and mary are getting their stuff together and packing up the storage pod next week so that he can drive out to his new job in chapel hill on wednesday. after that i suppose mary and i will sit around in a weepy mess for a day or two. east coast, west coast - we'll be so far apart! i've never before been so grateful for advances in modern communication. with them and us and all of our peeps strung out all over the country it just seems so... daunting. think i'll go buy more stamps just to calm myself.

and then there is nick. whoa. that's one for another time.

more coffee! more red meat! more cookies! eeep!

24 March 2006


there is a lot of stuff in here.

i don't mean to have a one track mind, but it's difficult not to think about the packing up and getting rid of and selling and donating going on. the theory was presented to me that accumulation becomes like a habit. you never actually mean to keep a lot of the things that you have, but it's a habit not to give them away. you... get accustomed to certain things being in your house. just in case. not that you ever need the bulk of those needlessly kept items, but it feels somehow more secure to know that they're where you can get to them easily. just in case. and you always convince yourself that the moment you get rid of a certain thing, the following moment you will regret it, so you just keep it instead. just in case.

just in case of what? i mean, it's not like i'm going to throw out baby photos of me or nick or derek. my old letters are safe from the general toss. if there is a unique thing like that, it's a non-issue on what to do with it. and there are plenty of practical items that i don't really want to waste the money replacing when we get to the new place. but that's just it. big deal if the dishes end up breaking along the way. there will always be somewhere to get a new broom or some more cleaning products. so the task now is to sort out what's needed, what's wanted, and what else is tagging along with us as an added luxury, or perhaps an extra burden. i'm having the hardest time figuring out when i'm crossing the line from just one more thing to just one more box to just one more big fat headache that i'm keeping. just one more, just in case.

does "in case" happen more than i think? does it ever happen? and so what if i don't have the ability to dress up like a saloon girl on a moment's notice? that dress probably doesn't even fit me anymore. still, it got me to wondering how the accumulative bug sneaks up on us. one guess might be that the smallest stuff in our lives multiplies when we're asleep. another thought is that the cats are secretly out shopping for tchotchke knickknacks when we're sleeping. those both seem like viable enough excuses to me. in the end i'm left with a love-hate relationship going on with my own property. doing away with certain things seems nearly unthinkable - until i realize the alternative of becoming a pack rat.

you've all been to that person's house. they can just never seem to throw anything away. pass through any room and you're likely to find an assortment of old birthday cards from people they hardly ever knew, expired coupons for products they would never buy, a multitude of projects they will never finish, and that scent of... what is it? simply dust, or is it desperation? suggest a garage sale or house purging to one of these people and they gasp as if you're choking them. you shake your head and silently think about what a sad state of affairs they'll end up in, burying themselves in useless junk. it's beyond clutter. the piles you have in your house, the ones with a bit of unopened mail and a few old magazines, now seem completely manageable. but then again, you could stand to throw out that old sweater you haven't worn since before you voted in an election.

for the record, i have yet to find an expired coupon in my clutter. that's right, it's still only clutter at this point. there are little boxes of things like refrigerator magnets and other things that can at least have a quasi-practical application, if justified properly, but the number of boxes headed on to new homes is already in the double digits. what a relief to know that we're going from one small place to another, or else i might be tempted to fulfill the stereotypical prophecy and expand to fit in the space alotted to me. there are sometimes good reasons for a person like me not to have an extra bedroom. i'm protecting myself from my own stuff. just in case.

20 March 2006

fresh out

it should be possible to put an expiration date on levels of compassion. like to have a certain amount of it spoil before it gets used. probably because someone took a drink straight from the bottle and then left it on the counter to rot, but no one noticed until it was too late. i'm pretty sure my bottle was left on the counter this weekend. i'm a raging irrational bitch without any back stock of compassion. maybe i had some and it got spilled on the rug. all i know is, now it's starting to smell. in any case, it's probably not a good sign that i'm out of compassion for the week, with nary a penny to buy more, and it's only slightly an hour after the beginning of the week for me. get back to me next week to find a sweeter and gentler version of this bitchy self.

oh, and it looks like we do get to keep the new apartment. another false alarm. supposedly. allegedly. for now.

in the record breaking spiral downwards last night (thanks rhiannon for naming me the all time winner) i turned into my own evil twin. you should never think about calling homeland security/immigration just to get someone else out so you'll have a place to live. on the other hand, it would be nice to have george bush on my side for a change. on the third hand, i'm not sure what kind of silver lining thinking that would make for, even in a depressive state of mind. in a blindingly obvious and still somewhat subconscious fashion, i punished myself for taking it out on derek via cell phone. i ate chocolate, got nauseated as all hell, stayed home pouting, and managed to miss some valuable cheese soup and sidney poiter time with my friends. i should have stopped being a big baby. i should have gone to ed and rhiannon's for movie night. i should have hung up the phone before derek got frustrated. ah yes, but by the end, you'll be happy to know that i lolled on the sofa in a giant tummyache puddle. justice was served to me. blech, chocolate, blech.

i was rewarded for my self flagellation by getting the opportunity to scream at two lame asses in the parking lot of borders today. "well, it must be nice to be so fucking perfect, because it's not so easy to be one of the rest of us - HUMAN!" i have to admit, i took a certain amount of perverse pleasure in pointing them out to scott once we were inside. quite loudly, i might add. with an actual arm extension and all out pointing finger, a la village of the damned. did they really feel superior by hacking a loogy on my car window? after all, it's been raining for two days and the window was clean by the time i got home. so there! ha! in your fucking faces, you idiots in the explorer! obviously there is no way they could have a better life than i do. they were in a gas guzzling ford. and let's not even talk about their bad posture. kick my ass? yeah, right, whatever. of course you weren't going to kick my ass, so why even bring it into the conversation? sheesh.

i can be awfully scary when i wanna be. not that i'd ever kick an ass. i'm a weenie. bark bark bark! and oh what a bark it can be when i need it. like a rabid chihuahua mafia crack dealer. hmmmm, should probably tone down my mouth a bit before getting to los angeles, huh? oh well, i won't have any friends there, so i won't be going out so much. breaking in new people is such an exhausting task. who wants to make friends in southern california anyway? i have enough friends and a lot of stamps.

screw the compassion. i gotta go put my newest supply of humor back in the freezer. i wouldn't want it to all thaw out at once.

18 March 2006


the thing about "being busy" is that you always feel confused as to what you've forgotten to do that day. or maybe you've put off those less than appealing things on your list and, as you sit there eating cookies in the dark and maybe flipping through magazines or watching some old movie with your cats, you sigh and think of all that you have to do tomorrow, hence getting yourself in an overwhelmed tizzy for no reason whatsoever. then comes the moment when you have a valid amount of tizzyness and you're already exhausted from either putting things off or actually getting things done, so you just sit there and stare, wondering what the hell happened to your previous plans. i'm kind of wondering that myself today. damnit, i was in the middle of being productive and organized. what the fuck?!?!

derek called this afternoon to tell me that our sublet has fallen through - again. there was a slight scare about the arrangement earlier this week that resolved itself in a matter of hours. all was good and quiet. today that little wrinkle turned into more of a crease. the british guy with our apartment is trying to go back on the agreement because blah blah blah this and that whine whine sob story hey should we be compassionate people and avoid getting nasty about the whole thing because it would be so stressful in the middle of all this and ARRRRGGGHHH!! anyway, now derek is out on the hunt for a new place for us to live. CRAP ON A STICK! i had only just gotten a handle on my new set of three o'clock barfies! such is the way of things, i suppose.

grrr... i'm frustrated. grrr... i've decided to spend the rest of the day pouting and being snarky, just to keep my spirits up and in a good enough place to function. there's no use fretting when you can bitch instead. can i declare war on england because of the british guy fucking up our move?

speaking of british guys, let's move on to one that i really like. it looks like tim and mary will be moving to north carolina for him to start a new job there. excitement excitement! it feels as though some giant burst of wind is sweeping us off to scattered ends of the country. i wonder who will be the next one caught up in the gust. so now mary is under the delayed reactions i've been going through for the last few weeks. sort of interesting to see it from the other side. i think it might be enough to make me get all weepy and sentimental. like a commencement of sorts. we're all going through so much change around here lately. maybe we should just say piss on it all and have our own graduation ceremony. anyone have good ideas for a speaker that won't put us to sleep?

14 March 2006

tankoo mucho aimee mann

there has been this sort of like cathartic stonewall going on in my life. it's probably coming about so that i'm not too wiggy about the move and the play and this and that and blahbitty blah woof woof woof. there is always so much going on in one's life, isn't there? even when it all seems boring, people always say to you "oh, but i've just been so busy that i never feel like i get anything done." surely there's at least one thing getting done if you're that busy, right? i damn well hope so. enough of this sisyphus crap. let's roll!

this evening when i got home from rehearsal i decided to just let it rip, so to speak. no, i wasn't gassy or anything. i just wanted to go ahead and have an emotional vomit to lift my spirits. fine fine fine - i'll just play music to make me cry and sit here wallowing. or perhaps something to get me pissed off at the whole world so i can get my screaming cardio in for the month. the funny thing was, it didn't make me brood or sob or even feel sorry for myself. i felt... engaged in my life. part of it. aware. it made me wonder how many times i get "so busy" that i forget to be in my own life.

rehearsal always makes me so damn bullshitty.

purge! purge! purge! let the cleaning of the house continue. the three o'clock barfies, as we call them in my house, have subsided so it's time to carpe diem on all my weird shit. garage sales, charity, and re-gifting to all!

wanna know the dumbest thing i said today? "guess what i did last night? my own laundry! for the first time in six years!" don't judge, you little widgets. i'm in charge of going to the grocery store and emptying the litterbox. it's a fair trade. i can barely cook. should i really be allowed to mix my whites and colors unsupervised? derek and i really need a housewife to clean up after us. too bad i have trust issues when it comes to my stuff.

12 March 2006

throwing up a little

it occurred to me today that i'll be leaving here in a month. derek is coming back to load up and drive the truck out to los angeles with me. we'll be leaving our lives of several years in a rearview mirror. barf. no more spontaneous girls night or impromptu dinner parties with my posse. barf. i won't know any dorky theatre people or disgruntled lackeys to commiserate with on a bad day. barf. no more sunday brunch with nick and company followed by a trip to target for crap. barf barf barf.

if i throw up enough from nerves, i'm sure to lose that five pounds i was working on, but that kinda business can't be good for my tummy. so i'll just suffer with barfy pangs and take a deep breath in and let out it again. breathe in, breathe out. ahhh, i'm feeling very dalai lama now.


veronica called yesterday and we had a fabulous talk about how she's learned to put her focus into doing good things for herself (as opposed to simply mooning over a random guy) over these past few months. it's such a relief to hear her say that she's worth more than settling for things that she doesn't need or want in her life. finally! the thing that amazes me in all this is her ability to heartily survive this big move of changing her entire life on the spur of the moment and rearranging everything by just uttering the magic words of "fuck it" and going for broke, partly because i'm having such a jittery time in imagining what awaits me in the coming weeks. she thinks i'm so brave most of the time. it's good to see her being brave, too. maybe now she even realizes that she is, so next time she calls me crying i can just cry back and snap her out of it more quickly.

i haven't cried lately. not even in private. not even while watching bad television. is there something wrong with me? i would have expected to be sobby as hell the day derek left. maybe i'm just stunned. barf.

i won the borders idiot challenge again! in your face, scott! that's 3-2 now, thanks to a decent showing from the groom's guide. (you're getting married. now read this book.) we even saw the previous winner, the comings and goings of david beckham, on the staff pick shelf as a lovey joke. our choices may have been less than inspired this week on account of the amazing acoustics from the hail storm going on at the time. okay i admit it. we just get lazy sometimes. we'll find something dumber there next week.

must learn lines. must learn lines. barf.

11 March 2006

speaking of scooby doo...

nonsequiturs make me happy.

i was going through my purse today and found a lovely gem from mary:
there are so many different kinds of beans... what's that all about?

in a neverending clothing revolution, my shoelaces both snapped when i was getting ready to leave for tim and mary's house today. while on my way to buy a new bra, i might add. what the fuck?!? will my pants begin to spontaneously fall down next? ah but no. i just remembered the "chub rub" holes that have been developing on some of my pants. i guess those jeans with the holey crotch really do belong to me. i'm still getting rid of them.

and as for that whole innocent thing i spouted off about before, well, i can say this. if i don't care enough about someone to name them, i must not give a crap about who they are. either that or they sign my paycheck. in any case, the intrinsically inconsequential shall remain anonymous. i mean, who really cares about generic assholes anyway? you'd have to be pretty special to even get a nickname from me when it comes to being freaky. take "our lady of the shrubs" - a potentially homeless but probably government assisted and totally wacko chick who wanders around on cherry street. she has character. she has charm. she's got charisma, baby. she also likes to talk to picket fences and commune with the foliage. not just sniffing the roses, but having a relationship with the shrubbery. hence, she's got a name. but why does she always have a to go cup in her hand? and for that matter, why do a lot of homeless people seem obsessed with to go cups? and why do i even care?

i should tivo people like our lady of the shrubs. i wish i could tivo shit out of life sometimes. i even tried to skip back ten seconds when i was listening to all things considered on npr yesterday. i'm a sick tivo-lution puppy. for those of you that don't get it, there is this fucking awesome function on tivo where you press one button and go back ten seconds and another where you can skip ahead thirty seconds. i can't tell you how many times i've seen the andrae montage on that reunion special of project runway. hey, don't judge. we all have our thing. megan understood me when i was noting how useful that would be in real life. then you could make some jerky windbag just get to the fucking point. like maybe sometimes me when i'm telling a boring story about how much i love the tivo.

so many thoughts, so little cheese. bah-bah-bah... bah-bah-bahrain. gotta go check the tivo (my new boyfriend) for the f1 race before the fans have a coronary. yes, that would include me as well.

three times a lady

unexpected expenses are a pain. there will be a shopping trip in my near future, but it's unfortunately not going to be for socks. not that i won't get any socks. in fact, i'm wearing some farewell socks as we speak. they're one of those pairs that matches with mary's. it's a good thing she bought new scarves for me and her and megan last weekend. i'd hate to have to bring her with me and force her to get a new bra that matches mine.

it's odd how they say that things happen in threes. this week has seen the passing of my underwire on three - count 'em, folks - three different bras. they were the only really good ones that i love because of their cottony softness. it was like a political revolt or something. each day i would put on a different bra and, within the hour, i would hear a slight "ping!" as the damn wire snapped in half. and on the same side each time, no less! i really have to have a talk with my left boobie before my clothing life gets out of control. down girl! behave yourself! so now it's off to ye olde house of underwear to find replacements. if one can count on anything, it's life's ability to smack you around in humiliating ways. ugh.

last night mary decided we should have a girl night with jenny and tanya. it was margaritas, queso, and desserts on the veranda (i.e. the patio at chimi's on cherry street) as we swapped ridiculous statements and stories of how retarded the situations in our lives could be. there was a discussion of the most painful pimples ever, with the winners being an inside-the-nostril-yet-under-the-skin jobbie or else something involving the septum and squeezing. ye-owch! books which we assumed that everyone but us had read were thrown into the mix. turns out no one has read these, or at least not all of them. and yes, i admitted to actually watching a reality show.

"daniel franco, where did you go - whoa, oh... daniel franco, where did you go?" gee mary, thanks for getting that shit stuck in my head for days. aarrrrggghhhh!! make it stop!!!

it was then that i told the girlies about el blog. they were duly informed that no names would be changed to protect the innocent because i know better than that anyway. tanya was reminded of my former penchant for carrying around a tape recorder and sticking it at friends whenever they spoke. now i slyly arm myself with a pen instead, but it's difficult to discreetly write down a quote from your friend when they're watching you scribble on your hand. maybe i should learn how to lie better and say i'm making a grocery list. whatever, like they'd believe a lame ass story like that. besides, it's only fair for jenny to give an informative warning about one of her ex boyfriends. or are we now calling him that guy that jenny used to fuck sometimes when she felt like it and he thought he was her boyfriend because she would actually be seen in public with him at times? i get so confused about modern relationships, you know. i will have the grace to leave him unnamed, but if you should ever run into him just know that his review from her goes as such:

his only outstanding feature is his capacity to be mediocre.

the thing is, he doesn't really need a name. we've all met this guy, or some permutation of him, along the way. needless to say, she's much happier with tony. i would certainly hope so since she married him. awwww, isn't that too sweet? i think i just made myself gag a little bit. gotta go vomit now.

10 March 2006

it's a jungle in here

so i admit it - i have absolutely no idea how to pack up all of my shit. i get motivated for a while and then it's like "oh crap, why don't i just burn it all and start over again?!?" so far in the great cross country move i've managed to go through the media stuff, as in books/movies/etc. i think i'll tackle the clothing next. poor derek will just have to trust my judgment that he doesn't need to keep a million t-shirts on a just in case basis. now that he has to look like a grownup for work, it'll be easier to convince him that those jeans with the gigantic hole in the crotch are ready to head on out of our lives.

or were those my jeans? oh hell, who can keep track when you both wear the same size anyway?

this should be a good chance to indulge in my sock habit. there are many pairs that need to have a farewell tour at this point, so instead of doing more laundry than i need to, i'll just start chunking the lesser ones. sock shopping! yippeeee!

the worst part about moving is going through all of your stuff and wondering why the fuck you kept some of it. the best part of moving is going through all of your stuff and wondering why the fuck you kept some of it. we don't celebrate xmas in this household, but if we did it would look something like moving day i'm sure. "the beast" - aka the huge living room storage closet - is a source of endless wonder for me. it's chock full of nutty history. i didn't even know i had that roll of raffle tickets! keep this coupon, huh? i think it'll be a donations bonanza by the end of the month.

the cats are starting to get freaky on me. i think they know something's up.

07 March 2006

wee wee

we have a closed door policy in my house when it comes to using the toilet. so i finally noticed today that even thought it's just me and the cats in the house, i keep closing the bathroom door when i go to pee. this seems really odd. maybe it means i'm so used to derek that he's here even when he isn't. either that, or i'm really paranoid when it comes to being in the bathroom.

rehearsals were both productive and remedial. we moved into the theatre tonight so it's mostly just adjusting to a new space after weeks of being in the all purpose. the floor and the lights feel different, but mostly it just sounds different in there. it's this sort of billowing yet hollow resonance. i kind of like it.

i'm exhausted. after staying up until 3 am (or 4 or 5) for the last week, i'm getting worn down. think i'll hit the sack at a decent hour tonight.

06 March 2006

i'm a creep - i'm a weirdo

move in time on our new place is the first week of april. i had to call nelson today to let him know we were moving out and he sounded like i just poked him in the eye with a lollipop. he was sad in a way, but happy for us. i'm going to miss those old coffin dodgers we have for landlords. it's nice to have new grandparents that love you. do they have people like that out in los angeles? eep.

derek and i were on the phone last night and he thanked me for being so calm through all of this moving stuff. that's great and all. now for the real stuff - i'm wigging out. yep. that pacing back and forth, eating candy by the handful, smoking like i'm on fire and swearing my ass off kind of endearing freaking out. you know... the me that i normally am to me. so it's rather amusing that my exterior seems so placid at the moment. it must be the hormones kicking in from my birth control shot. i think i got a special anti-wiggy dose last week. maybe i should just go around as stoic as possible and frighten people with serenity.

people find me intimidating. it's a blessing and a curse, of course. while it's easy to get things done when you scare the shit out of someone, it also sucks to hear them whining about how they wish they could just lay it out there like you do. it sucks because you start to feel like a fraud about being so supposedly confident. sheeeyat, i'm scared i'm filling out the label on my priority mail envelope wrong and it's gonna end up in costa rica. or texas. or just in mail purgatory. i jitter and fret. i find it difficult to end a sentence with a preposition. but then again, i have no qualms about embarrassing myself in a public place. is that what we call bold these days? it's what i call how i feel most of the time, but in a charming way. i have, let's say, neurotic quirks.

and then, i just laugh at myself for being so silly and promise to do better next time. ten seconds later, i have this conversation with myself all over again. tick tick tick. yep i'm having it again. maybe i'll just go put in my scala choir cd yet again and listen to little girls singing "i touch myself" until it passes. and eat cheese.

mmmmm, cheeeeeeeese.

it's nights like this...

so i was talking to my drunken friend holly last night about me posting things for her emotional benefit. boo hoo, i'm moving away from my peeps and they're miraculously going to miss my incessant blurting and babble. she inspired me to go ahead and lay it out here while she was pissed out of her gourd on cosmos because her back had gone out and she didn't have any meds to do the job. oh, silly girl.

among holly's verbal diamonds from last night:
we're all a little bit of michael jackson.
you're an artistic genius - but i say that to everyone i see. al pacino is almost a genius like you.
he told me i was beautiful and you were just getting coffee.
how can you leave me when i can't even balance my own checkbook?

now is that good fun on a saturday night or what? mind you, i took complete advantage of the situtation and tried to get her to sleep in a doghouse in the backyard ("yeah holly, why don't you just stay in the dogloo tonight so you don't bother andrey? sure you'll fit in it.") and then told her to eat food or else i would slap her in the face, so i'm sure i contributed in some way to her ramblings by encouraging things along. no no no, not encouraging the drinking, but simply the chatter.

i don't think i've laughed that hard all week. that apology phone call was so unnecessary. thanks a million, toots. and no, i did not let you crawl into the dogloo, just in case you were wondering. the last thing any of us needed was to unstick you from it in that condition.

for now, another sleepless night awaits me without derek around. he's been gone four days and i'm pining for him. ack, it is sickening, i know. the cats are trying to strong arm me into the bedroom, so i just keep telling them, "you're not the boss of me!" maybe i'd feel more energetic if i got to bed at a decent hour, eh?