I didn't get up this morning until 1p, which was lovely. I actually woke up three times beforehand, but I was having this terrific dream about this guy. I don't know him in real life, but in my dream he was really great, and every time I went back to sleep I was able to get back into the story.

The guy's name was Josh, but it wasn't really, that was like a nickname, his real name was Cobb, I think, and we met because I was walking down the street and he grabbed my ass. He had two brothers that he was raising since their parents were dead, and they were sort of ridiculously rich, which I didn't find out until my third dream. Or wait, I think it was that they used to be rich, there was this amazing stately home, but there were tour groups coming through so that they could afford to stay in it.

It this is you, let me know! We had a pretty fine time in my dream, let me tell you.

So, yesterday I had my first rehearsal for my new show, not the one with Winni, but the other one, called The Inconvenience of Death and Friendship Explored in One Act. The title is like a movie trailer, now you don't need to see the show.

Linda, the director, had said that the rehearsal was at an address on Central Park West, near Columbus Circle, and I work near there, so I thought that rather than leaving work, I'd just take my lunch hour for my 6.30p rehearsal and then go back.

So I head over to CPW, and the first address I saw was 13, then 15, then 20, and since the address was in the 200s, it occurred to me that Linda was mistaken in the whole being near Columbus Circle thing, so I jumped on the bus, once one finally came by. When I saw the numbers getting near my number, I hopped back off, then started looking.

At the end of one block was the number before it, then at the beginning of the next block there was the number after it, the number itself was not to be found! I went into the building that was the number after and asked the doorman:

"Is there a number 2xx?"
"No, that's on Central Park South, right near Columbus Circle."
"Ah."
"Funny, alot of people have been coming in here tonight asking that question!"
"I'll bet they have been..."

So back downtown I went, terrifically late, but not giving a damn, as I was entirely free of blame. When I got back to Columbus Circle, i.e. where I started, I found the building in question, the real building, walked in and asked the doorman:

"Hi, I'm here for apartment xxS?"
"Um..."
"Elizabeth?"
"Are you here for the play practice?"
"Yes..."
"That's apartment xxA."
"Of course it is."

So I walked into rehearsal, about an hour late if not longer and said, "What was that, an intelligence test?"

Linda apologized profusely, saying that she had called me in order to fix the address when she realized that she was wrong, but it was to no avail.

I had missed the first thirteen pages, so I jumped in and read the rest. Seems reasonably okay, though I do find it amusing that the woman playing the 45 year old lead is a good deal closer to 60 than 50, and I, at 36, am playing the 60 year old. On the other hand, I'm probably more willing to play 60 than someone actually staring 60 in the eye.

I ended up getting back to work at 8.30p, almost no point in staying, but my movie wasn't starting until 10.30p, so why not.

I went to go see Someone Like You at the Sony Lincoln Square. Before the movie I wrote in my paper journal, "That is just the worst title I can think of. They might as well have called it Generic Romantic Comedy. Doesn't bode well, and it got pretty bad reviews, but Hugh Jackman is shirtless in it, so how bad can it be?"

And the answer was, not very, but not very good either. It was pretty much as bland as it's name, even with some very good performances from Hugh and Greg Kinnear, who has one scene that is possibly the best thing I've ever seen him do--such a deep scene in such a shallow movie was somewhat odd.

Ashley Judd was fine, but she is so much better a dramatic actress than a light comic one, this really isn't her forte, but she's a young leading lady in her 20's, they go into romantic comedies whether they really fit in them or not.

The Hugh Jackman shirtless scene, though, was worth the price of admission.

Watching late night TV last night, there was an ad for an insomnia medication that ended with the words, "You'll never have to see another sunrise."

I don't know about you, but to me this sounded vaguely threatening, like if you took their insomnia medication you would turn into a vampire, or your sleep problems will be over because you'll be dead.

Today's horoscope:
Power and control issues surface in love. Be sure you are satisfied with who gets what and who enjoys what. Seek mutual pleasure.

One year ago today:
The Raccoon said that her Mom said that that means the devil's daughter is getting married.

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Last Updated Sun 8 April 11:52:09 2001