random side notes - chapter seventeen

this week was our anniversary. actually we have two anniversaries, but the one in may is the date that we like to get all moooshy about. today we'll go to mayfest (an arts festival with tons of F-U-D and stuff) and reenact our first date, bickering included, i am sure. how fast does sixteen years go by? quickly enough that you can find new things to pick on each other about almost every single week, without ever losing those oldie-but-goodie standards such as "why are you always doing stuff to MY stuff?" awww, how sweet.

the first show i've been working on opened last weekend and has turned out well. we got a cute and complimentary article in urban tulsa this week. now i'm going to have to insult the kids just to fit their big fat heads through the door. i hope they haven't eaten all the airheads i left for them backstage, because i might want some candy later on.

sometimes i think i should just name all of my blog entries random side notes - chapter blahbittyblah. being witty is just too much pressure for me.

thanks to scott, the directing curse has been broken. no one i know (pets included) has died on this show! am i the superstitious type? perhaps a bit, in a sort of catholic "it's a sign" kinda way. of course, i now seem to get forgotten about from time to time by producers and the like. did i know about the summerstage photo shoot? nope. have i had any real production meetings overall? nahhh, no bother. is there some new thing that pops up out of thin air to give me a jolt for no good reason? zap! do i have any clue what the fuck is going on with my shows? sheesh, we don't need no stinkin' clues, baby. we just rehearse a lot, have a big ego, and then don't care if anyone likes us or not. that's what eddie izzard taught me to do, so i'm going to roll with it and just press on. the new curse i've inherited is much more amenable to my lifestyle. really, i can't bitch at the small traumas. i'm just happy we're all still alive and in one piece.

my favorite vegetable lately is salsa.

stuart has developed a bizarre attachment disorder. he normally stays quite aloof, with the occasional leg rub in the kitchen or judgmental look from the top of the sofa. (did i mention how gleeful i am to have gotten rid of the leather furniture? i love my fuzzy red sofa!) i am the only person stuart has conversations with on a regular basis. i thought that he simply preferred the company of ladies, but it looks as though he simply prefers the company of me and only me. since returning from vegas i've had to endure countless hours of stuart sitting on my arm while i'm working, stuart watching me pee, and stuart chatting up my socks while i'm trying to cook. i have a small bench that i sit on in front of my desk, just in case i ever get so fat that i need two spaces to sit on while typing, but it's apparently become the space that i have to share with stuart just to get him off the fucking keyboard. when did he begin to notice that i live here? stuart is sitting here and says to tell you all hello, by the way.


why i'm a true adult:
my hip is sore and i had jellybeans for breakfast