So anyway, after the reading (or during, actually,'cause I had to run out like a frightened gazelle before it was over) I, um, ran out like a frightened gazelle and got my ass to the theatre to have my closing night.

I had tried to chivvy some of the journallers present to come see said closing night, but fortunately none of them did, as we sold out and they would have had to be turned away.

It was about a million degrees in the theatre, but the audience had a swell time and the actors made no major or minor errors, and it was a fine closing. Afterwards, at the bar, my actors surprised me with an extremely well-wrapped and extremely fancy-shmancy box of chocolate from Richart that are far too beautiful to eat. They look like sushi.

They also signed a poster, which is the best gift, 'cause it lasts.

Yesterday I got up in the middle of the damn night (aka 10a) in order to call Columbine to see if I could see him again before he went home, but he had already checked out of the hotel! I yelled "Shit!" into the phone when the operator told me that he had sneaked (snuck?) off into the night and made her giggle.

So, as a consolation prize, I went to Brooklyn to hang with Tracing and Amanda.

That's a joke, I was gonna do that anyway! We had a swell time, eating and talking and eating some more, and I finally met Tracing's husband, a heretofore mythical figure.

We kept running into him on the street, and Amanda and I commented that clearly Tracing had had to hire him for the day to play her husband, so he kept appearing so that she could get her moneys worth.

One thing that I thought was really funny at the reading was the fact that people kept calling Tracing "Tracing" rather than by her real actual name. Because, unlike some journallers, her name ain't no deep dark secret, she just doesn't want it appearing in search engines.

I said as much to Columbine, that it was weird to hear people call her that out loud, and he said that he didn't know why I thought so--that people called him "Columbine", and that he called Molly Zero "Molly" about half the time, but I protested that those are names, but "Tracing" is a word!

Of course, it turns out that when she arrived, she said "Hi, I'm Tracing!" so I guess that mystery's solved.

So after our Day Out, I took Amanda to Penn and then went to the first movie I've been able to see in weeks, and I chose one of my favourites of all time, the one, the only, the perfect, the glorious Young Frankenstein.

Of course, I've seen the movie a million billion times, I can recite long stretches, but I hadn't realized how many phrases have crept into my daily conversation.

"We must enter, quietly, into the realm of genius!"
"Could be worse. Could be raining."
"Taffeta, darling!"
"Well, they were wrong, then, weren't they?"
"I was gonna make espresso!"

And I usually sing the "O, I love my pretty little flower" song to them bad kitties most days. Except that I sing "O, I love my pretty little kitties", because otherwise it would just be silly.

Here's Columbine's entry about the reading, and here's Patrick's.

Amanda and Tracing and I decided that the reading was just perfect as a first shot, and that the next one should be longer. I mean, that it should last the whole weekend with like a reading one day and a party the next or something, because with people coming in from out of town, just a couple of hours isn't enough.

And I don't get to talk to Patrick or Colleen nearly enough! Because remember, it's all about me!

Today's horoscope:
Your system may work fine for you, but don't expect anyone else to understand it. Other people's realities are much less complex. If you ask for perspective, you're sure to get an earful of it.

One year ago today:
" Attention Kymm Zuckert, come see this film! We made it for big saps living in hope like you!"

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Froggy froggy afternoon by:
Brittly!

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Last Updated Mon 16 August 09:59:09 1999