CONTEST! CONTEST! I am
CONTEST! CONTEST!
I am getting another tattoo. This one, I believe, will be the character set for “crisis”. One character means “danger”, one character means “opportunity”. Can you find me a bigger, clearer, possibly more artistic version than the ones I’ve just linked to? One that’s cool enough that I’ll want it on my body for the rest of my life?
Here is what I offer the winner:
a movie, complete with popcorn and soda or icee
or
dinner somewhere not TOO expensive
and/or
my undying love and affection
Email me with submissions!
Who wants to see Hairspray?
Who wants to see Hairspray?
Do you want to see it for me?
Do you want to see it for free?
(Do you like it in a box?
Do you like it with a fox?)
Drop me an email … I’ve got 2 (two) extra comp tickets for this Friday at eight and I hate to go to the theatre alone. Seriously. I’m afraid of theatre.
It could all be so
It could all be so simple
But you’d rather make it hard
Loving you is like a battle
And we both end up with scars
Tell me, who I have to be
To get some reciprocity
No one loves you more than me
And no one ever will
Is this just a silly game
That forces you to act this way
Forces you to scream my name
Then pretend that you can’t stay
Tell me, who I have to be
To get some reciprocity
No one loves you more than me
And no one ever will
I keep letting you back in
How can I explain myself
As painful as this thing has been
I just can’t be with no one else
See I know what we got to do
You let go and I’ll let go too
‘Cause no one’s hurt me more than you
And no one ever will
Care for me, care for me
I know you care for me
There for me, there for me
Said you’d be there for me
Cry for me, cry for me
You said you’d die for me
Give to me, give to me
Why won’t you live for me
Quote of the Day Excerpted
Quote of the Day
Excerpted from Sarah’s blog
“Step 2. I wish.”
If you don’t get this reference, ask me. I’ve been laughing ever since I read it. You GO, girl.
Thank you for helping with my moronic Felicity-obsessed fervor last night. Even though I was apparently an idiot and didn’t realize it started at eight, thank you. I’m just sorry you couldn’t join our Trivial Pursuit game - Patrick and I won, thanks largely to his infinite sports knowledge and the fact that we kept landing on green. It was a good way to spend a school night.
I went out, on the spur of the moment, and got a haircut at Regis (at the Northgate mall) last night. My designer, strangely enough, was a slightly-femmy, very pierced and stretched, head-shaved, chin-puppy-wearing guy named Bill. He and the fabulous diva who was cutting hair next to me conferred on what to do to my head, since I basically left it up to them. I didn’t know what I wanted, all I knew was that I hated what I had. The end result is far less wack than what I was originally looking for, but it’s nice. Probably a good compromise. I proceeded to spend too much money on hairwax, bleach, and that nifty red-highlights kit. Friendly Bill told me that he thought I would look REALLY wonderful if I dyed my hair black - and my bangs fire engine red. I told him that, with my new haircut, that would look excellent - but that the folks at Ye Olde Children’s Theatre might not appreciate it too much. So, I’ll just be blonde with red streaks. That’ll be fun too.
Then, I got to work this morning only to discover that Robbie (the newly crowned Miss America) had gotten both his eyebrow and his … what the hell do you call it, that chin piercing thing … pierced last night. He looks pretty tough - which is quite a stretch for Robbie - and it made me sorry that I hadn’t gone for the black and red. Maybe this winter I’ll think about it…
Plus, I’ve been running every day on my lunch hour. It’s been really nice - it makes me feel really good, and most of my pants don’t stay on me anymore without a belt. That’s ALSO nice. Who needs food, man. Seriously.
Okay, I guess I should get back to work. I’m feeling easily distracted today. Hooray, Sunshine! The seasonal affective part of me gets SO juiced when the sun comes out.
Confidential to… Benlau -
Confidential to…
Benlau - I’m glad you enjoyed your show. The reference made me smile.
Sonya - Ohboy. What to do, what to do? Want to play trivial pursuit - yet - also need to see final episode of Felicity EVER. What to do?
Zach - I’m so glad you’re enjoying yourself way the hell over there. Keep telling stories, I’m living vicariously.
Sarah - Doll, you aren’t boring in the least. Seriously, nobody (except possibly you ;) enjoys stories about/the company of Jason Wright more than I do. It’s so nice to hear that he’s doing well… it makes me sad to think that I might not ever see him again.
Things I likeGlorious Stairwell Hugsgetting
Glorious Stairwell Hugs
getting to work before my boss does
Cinnamon Crunch Crispix
dumb shows on the Animal Channel
long phone conversations with friends I’ve known for 9 years
snuggling with puppy
sunshine
getting to wear sneakers to work
that burning feeling in my quads that I get after going running
going out for a drink with friends on a school night
overheard stories about falling knee-deep into wet cement
days when I don’t need caffeine
my pants being too big and falling off
piercings
new tattoos
friends coming to Seattle to visit
knowing that people who are hurting me aren’t doing it on purpose
the word shmoopy
Got a lovely letter today
Got a lovely letter today from someone very dear to me, and thought I would share part of it, as it pertains (in a nice way) to an earlier post, and it made me happy.
I read a line in a book last night that I’m now going to [send you] as it pertains to oh, so, much, particularly that word “healthy” and those who might misunderstand us (because everyone knows that you, me, and all those we hold dear are entirely misunderstood by the People of Thebes):
“Bill took all of this home to Carol, but Carol was disturbed. What she loved in Bill was his normality. She had been trained to confuse that with virtue. What Bill was involved in now was nothing to do with normality.” —Geoff Ryman, “WAS”
Of course, the bit that’s missing from that above passage is how much harder the other kind of virtue is and how it’s rewards, though rich, are not recognized by those trained in normality either.
Thank god for theatre.
And sweet friends.
****************************************
My housemate - the one
My housemate - the one I affectionately call “Slothboy” - burned down the Rendez-vous last night while Zach, Sonya, and Gillian watched. All day long, I joked that he had done it, and then got home and found out that it WAS him after all.
Also - today’s big “Hey, Thank You!” goes out to Zach, who not only took me out for yummy Thai, but also helped me hook up my TV and VCR, and then watched crappy TV with me, and then proceeded to give his yummy Thai doggy bag to me for my anxiously-awaited lunch in fifteen minutes. If I keep eating all this yummy yummy food, the whole “breakable” issue will be moot. Soon, I’ll be like those guys I told you about who have no necks.
I was told last night,
I was told last night, by a very objective observer, that my recent post (which described my life as a made-for-tv-movie) sounded “healthy”, and I wanted to take just a moment to discuss that observation, and to give you the working definition of the word “healthy”, as used in this situation.
1. In denial. Colloq. usage incl. “…not just a river in Egypt.”, “She’s in total denial.”, etc.
2. Acting. See also “Alicia’s Career”, Uta Hagen’s book “Respect For”, etc.
3. Fabrication. Of or pertaining to weaving. Colloq. usage incl. “Fabricated story.” See also “web of deceit”.
4. Senseless Optimism. See also “Always Look on the Bright Side of Life”.
5. Saying what you - and everyone else - want to hear. See “fronting”.
6. Forcing myself to act okay even when I’m not. See “every day of my life”.
In short, “healthy” means that I am only okay when I am thinking of something else. When I am keeping my mind so full that it doesn’t have time to consider what’s really going on. When I’m distracted. When I’m doing every damn thing I can to keep the reality of this whole shitty situation off my mind. Is that healthy? Then yes, that’s exactly what I am. Want to know what I really think about all of this?
I can’t post that here. I’d get carted away in a straight jacket and sent to a padded room. And god knows I can’t be a productive, “healthy” member of society from there.
Monday, again. They just keep
Monday, again. They just keep happening, and I am powerless to stop it. The weeks seem to be going by faster and faster and faster until everything is a whirlwind and makes no sense. If time travels fast enough and my eyes glaze over and I don’t notice things happening because I’m too busy being dizzy, do they actually happen? There’s a little nugget of thought.
Had a really great callback last night for “Romance”, an angsty lesbian play that co-stars a knitting circle of speed freaks. Lovely writing, beautiful relationships between the characters, very poetry-like speech patterns, all in all I adored the script AND all the women there, PLUS Jean Chemnik and Lisa Nix were there - you may not know these girls, but I do, and they’re crazy freaks. It was just a really fun, productive evening, and we all got to read a LOT, and I enjoyed myself. Plus, in the hour between my audition and the call-back, I got to sit by the International Fountain, eat my chicken salad sandwich, and read a trashy romance novel that I bought at QFC. It was nice.
I really want to go see STAR WARS this week. Who wants to go with me? Zach? Sonya? Who’s feeling geeky and would like to go watch pretty Sci-Fi with me? Come on, don’t all raise your hands at once. Email me! Let’s go waste some time!
And, last but not least - and don’t think I don’t feel weird saying this, but … meh. You know who you are. After the last couple weeks, that’s been on my mind a lot. Just thought you should know.
It’s been a long time.
It’s been a long time. More time has gone by in the past couple of weeks than just a couple of weeks. It’s been several years, and since then I’ve grown old and wisened and can look back on it with longing and regret and total objectivity. I can turn to my friends and say “I was young and foolish then. I feel old and foolish now.” It feels like none of that actually happened to me. It all happened to someone else - some fictional young twenty-something whose life story was so tragic and surreal that it was made into a Lifetime made-for-TV movie - the moral of the story being “See, ladies? Your life could be like this. Be thankful for what you’ve got.” The music playing underneath the opening credits would be Cher singing “Do you believe in life after love?” interspersed with little bits of Dolly Parton’s “9 to 5” interspersed with some depressing indie-rock song telling the sad tale of how transient the lead singer is, and how he never feels rooted or immovable or safe or secure, interspersed with something by either Prodigy or System of a Down, which includes a great deal of screaming and stress and frenzy and talk of getting an ulcer. The commercials would be for massage therapists, coffee companies, Camel Jade Lights, Midol, Feria bleach, Laughing Buddha, credit counseling services, and the cheap Zinfandel they sell at the Satellite. It would star Pauley Perrette as me, with a full cast of wannabes, nobodys, and has-beens. It would be one of those movies you wouldn’t start watching until you found your kleenex. It would be one of those movies you wouldn’t be able to remember the name of later.
Where, you might ask, does this leave me?
I am single again for the first time since June 1998. I have a room to myself for the first time since August 1993. I am someone who goes to auditions that require singing with accompaniment - and doesn’t get nervous. I am a second-time stage manager. I am an actor on hiatus. I am the woman you work with who fills the fridge with thousands of boxes of Lean Cuisine instameals and cans of Diet Dr Pepper. I am newly blonde. I am 10 pounds lighter than I was when this whole escapade started. I am still going to get that new tattoo - once I get my stipend. I am the owner of only one dog (no longer two). I am a resident of the Meridian neighborhood - which is basically Greenlake. I am the only driver of my car. I am the only person I drive to work. I am the only person I buy food for. I am the only person I schedule around. I am the only person I look out for. I am the only person I aim to please.