1 June
Redesign time!
Neil was kind enough to send me this cool set, and I thought it would be perfect for this time of year.
Thanks, Neil!!
I don't know how sparkling this entry will be, because I (full disclosure) tend to write them the night before and upload them in the morning, but last night we had one hell of a storm, including a lightning strike practically right outside my window that scared the cats to death and three or four blackouts.
There were several hours between two of them, and did I spend those hours doing things that would be tricky to do without electricity, like o say, writing this entry, or showering, or finally e-mailing the programme info (two weeks late), or putting clean sheets on the bed?
Are you kidding? Do three blackouts automatically mean a fourth? Well, they did this time, so I was forced light candles at 2a and hunt down my battery operated alarm clock.
It was life during wartime.
Yesterday we ran the show for Kirsten, and it was less than stellar.
Less than good, too.
I screwed up a few times, but most of the major fuckups were by others on the stage and I tried to save them. Once I did an entire dialogue section by myself. I would say a line, pause, say the next line, pause, etc, until she finally threw a line in. Unfortunately, I had passed that spot four lines before, but what the hell?
Afterwards, Kirsten told us that we were boring, and she was entirely right.
Later, when Cynthia and Francis came home, they said that Kirsten had been hit by a bus--they thought she was okay, but they didn't know for certain. What the hell is it with this show? Is it cursed? One director gets cancer, the next gets hit by a bus?
I'm making jokes, but I really am worried.
Last night, so that Fran could see Cynthia's show, I babysat.
Meaning that I babysat both Molly, the two year old, and Bonnie, the two month old. At the same time. No help.
My hat is 100% off to all the men and women who do that on a regular basis, man, because it's a bitch! I mean, Molly alone is fine, Bonnie alone is fine, either of them along with Katie, the ten year old, would be fine as well, but a baby and a toddler simultaneously is hard hard work. Coal mining hard, baby.
And they were good, too! No giant tantrums from Molly, no endless tears from Bonnie, and still it was hard as a motherfucker. Mommy and Daddy got home around eleven and Molly was still up, just because I couldn't deal with attempting to put her to bed and having her scream and wake Bonnie, who was finally asleep so I could sit down rather than walking her and...
You get the picture.
One year ago today:
I have returned!!
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Last Updated Mon 1 June 09:44:09 1998