On Friday after work I didn't have rehearsal for the first time in a week, so I decided to go see a movie. I saw Brassed Off, which was swell. It's been advertised as a rollicking romantic comedy, which it is in part, but it's also a very melancholy film about a time in Britain when Margaret Thatcher was closing the coal mines and killing people's livelihoods. It's a movie about endings, about the death of a town. I wept copiously.

The theatre though, was a combination of the worst and best that I have ever experienced. It was abominably designed. The theatre where my movie was playing was on the ground floor, and when I walked in (slightly late) I asked where the bathroom was. I was told that I had to take the escalator down and an elevator back up. So I did that, then I asked where the concession stand was, and was told it was on the third floor!

So I was being punished for seeing the ground floor film!

But the best thing was the seats, which were huge and poofy and the back went all the way up behind my head! So even though I didn't get popcorn, I was wildly comfortable.

I swear I wrote this before Diane's entry yesterday where she talks about how many damn journals there are these days, but I didn't use it yesterday. I'm not wasting it, though!

After the movie I went back to work so that I could do my monthly trip around Open Pages on the T1. After three hours I suddenly realized that there were still another 50 to go, so I stopped. Christ this ring has gotten big! Over 200 now. I didn't know, as it's been a couple of weeks since I've looked at any new journals. All my time is taken up by the ones I already read! Though I really must start culling. There are a few in there that I read out of habit, not because I actually enjoy them, and it's about time to cut them loose.

I went to rehearsal yesterday (and it's coming along nicely, than you) and it was a beautiful day; not hot, but warm and summery, not humid, a nice breeze--loved it! And then the actors all stumbled in one by one gasping and extravagantly mopping their brows.

"Isn't it hot!" they said.
And I kept saying "No! No, you're wrong! It's not hot at all!"

And they were looking at me as though I had grown another head. "91 degrees isn't hot?" Brad asked. And I said "Well yeah usually, but this 91 degrees isn't hot!"

It's funny, I'm usually the first person to bitch about the weather, winter and summer, as you well know, but I was the only one who didn't think it was hot.

I bought things yesterday.
I'm not supposed to buy things, I'm supposed to pay bills. Well, it was only a couple of things. I had a $10 gift certificate at Barnes and Nobel, so I got Anne Lamott's Bird by Bird and Operating Instructions. I love Anne Lamott, but I've only ever read her Salon column, never a book. Looking forward to them both. Then I went to Blockbusters because I needed some blank tapes, and I saw videos of Aeon Flux and The Maxx, and I couldn't pass them up because who knew if I'd ever seen them again?

Well, my birthday's in two weeks, so they're early presents to myself.

One year ago today:
The white slaver.

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