You may not believe this, I'm not certain that I do myself, but I had a great rehearsal last night!

We did Act I, and the actors were talking to each other and connecting and being funny and more or less knew their lines, and I honestly enjoyed watching it!

Anyone reading this who has ever directed knows how weird the above statement is. When you're directing, especially a week before opening, the last thing you do when you're rehearsing is sit there and have fun watching it! Usually you are trying to fix things and jam the show into your vision of it and besides, at that point you're sick to death of the damn thing.

Cliff was late for rehearsal, and Jed said that he had passed him about ten minutes before going in the opposite direction, but he has a cell phone and Wende had his cell phone number and Joanie offered up her cell phone (I didn't like to ask because I can never tell whether making a call costs $50 or nothing or if they have to pay you) and I called Cliff.

"My favourite Cliff!"
"I'm walking up the stairs!"

And there he was! I laughed and laughed, as it was such a quintessentially '90s moment, you know?

Last night was "Take Back the Night" here in New York.

That's when people in neighbourhoods all over the city march after dark, symbolically saying "We live here, we should be able to walk around after dark! Avaunt ye criminals and quit my sight! We support our brothers in blue!" and things like that.

I personally took back the night by leaving my house at 11p and striding off into the dark in the direction of the Pathmark in order to get some Rocky Road ice cream.

Look, you take back the night your way and I'll do it in mine.

Unfortunately, there was a dismal lack of Rocky Road ice cream at the supermarket. What up with that? Why is it so damn hard to find! I was kneeling in front of the freezer for half an hour as though I was praying to the Dairy Gods, but got no answer.

I must have looked at every gallon in the freezer, and Lord knows there was enough Butter Pecan, about thirty gallons of the stuff, apparently for all of the butter pecan fiends roaming Weehawken, but nary a smitch of Rocky Road.

Of course, there was some fake Rocky Road, easily avoided what with me not being a moron and stuff. I mean, what is Rocky Road ice cream? Chocolate ice cream with marshmallows and almonds, perfectly simple, any monkey could whip up a batch, but some illiterate ice cream makers seem to be under the impression that marshmallow creme or marshmallow nougat (whatever the hell that is) is an acceptable substitute for marshmallows, thus ending up with these gallons of inedible ice cream cluttering up the freezer.

Taking up room that could be filled with real Rocky Road ice cream. The injustice.

Anyway, the night was taken back instead with Cherry Garcia. I truly felt that my activism suffered.

There was alot of Neapolitan ice cream, too, something that I haven't seen in ages.

Long enough that they no longer call it Neapolitan ice cream, but instead Vanilla Chocolate Strawberry ice cream, clearly a more mellifluous name. Rolls right off the tongue, don't it.

We used to get that all the time when I was a kid, and always we would eat the chocolate and the vanilla, but the strawberry would be left standing in its stripe, untouched, (because honestly, who the hell likes strawberry ice cream?), until my Mom ate it, because that's what mothers are for--they eat the things that nobody else wants because throwing them out would be wasteful.

I guarantee you, when I have children it won't be like that. I'll be bigger than they will be for a long long time, so it's pretty likely that I'll get to lick the beaters nine times out of ten. Unless I have more than one child (tickticktick) and am outnumbered.

Today's horoscope:
You need a cuddle today. Seek out a beloved partner, friend or pet. Get some quality caring.

One year ago today:
What is it about cleaning that makes me sweat so?!

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Brittly!

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Last Updated Wed 4 August 08:31:09 1999