My God. My God my God my God. My. God. Was I ever tired last night. Early in the evening, when I was begging off going to my Alumni Coffeehouse, I said, "I've been up since 6.30a, I've been working all day, I have to go to a rehearsal for an incredibly high energy show that I somehow must manufacture the energy for, and then I'm pretty sure that I will be committing suicide," but by the time I got home at 8.30p, I didn't actually have the energy to do it.

My life was saved by exhaustion.

So yeah, up at 6.30a on a Saturday--or rather, the alarm went off at 6.30a and I hit snooze until 7.15a. I figured hey, I'm getting up early already, no point in pushing it.

It was raining like a motherfucker out there, and a rain gutter empties out right by my door, so I went out through the house instead. Molly and Bonnie were sitting on the sofa, quietly watching TV. Molly looked up and saw me in my coat and hat and carrying my bags and said hello, and I told her that I had to go out their door because of the rain, then Bonnie whirled around and said, "Kymmie! We did not jump, we did not thump our feet on the floor...!!!"

And I answered, "No, you didn't, you guys have been great, you haven't woken me up at all!" "Not for the past few weeks, right?" Molly said, proudly grinning, "Not for the last couple of weeks, you are right, and I really appreciate it." "Kymmie, I'm wearing my leotard!" "Okay, Bonnie, I cannot have this conversation, I have to go to work!"

And out into the rain I went.

And holy shit, was it coming down. I was carrying the cake that I made for the Alumni Coffeehouse, my bag, my purse, and my laptop, aka my 20 lb purse and my 50 lb bag and my 100 lb laptop and my 200 lb cake. Not that the cake was so heavy, but the glass baking dish it was in sure was. So I waited for the van for a hundred years then I waited for the bus for a thousand years, then I waited for the other bus for a million years, then I got to work at 9.15a.

Not quite the 7a that I had originally planned, but not bad for a Saturday. And besides, that meant that I would have seven hours to do my filing or un-filing or whatever you want to call it before the electricity went off, and that would be plenty of time, right?

So I thought when I basically blew the first hour, but eventually it was 3.45p and I was halfway through the M's and had to stop. Also, I was covered with papercuts from head to toe, the big thick kind that come from file folders. Were I a stabbing victim on CSI, they would be identified as defensive wounds. Because they are so big they look like they were made with a knife, get it?

So I was bleeding, my back and arms were killing me, I was exhausted, and I was barely half done with the project that is supposed to be completed on Monday. I'll go in super-early Monday and see what else I can get done.

While I was working, I watched The Parent Trap. Twice, once with commentary, once without.

It was so fabulous, I adore that movie. The commentary, with Hayley Mills and David Swift, the director, was pretty good, not the greatest commentary on the planet earth, but reasonably entertaining.

The main problem with it is that they clearly had someone there asking them questions and prompting them to talk about certain things, but then the interviewer's voice was removed. Unfortunately, Hayley wasn't so good at remembering that the voice would be taken out and she should re-phrase the question, so occasionally she would just come out with this complete non-sequitur and it took a little minute to figure out what the hell she was on about.

What I thought was really funny was before the commentary there was this enormous, page-long disclaimer about how whatever insane opinion these people were going to come out with, they didn't have a thing to do with Disney, not one little thing, nope.

So when Hayley Mills and David Swift says that they enjoyed working together, Disney does not agree. When David Swift says that Hayley picked up the American accent quickly, Disney thinks that is a crock of shit. When Hayley Mills complains about her wig ("Look how far back that is! I look like Laurence Olivier!"), Disney rolls its eyes in disgust. And when David Swift mentions wistfully how much he wishes that all of these wonderful actors were still alive, Disney is glad they are dead and want to kill the actors that are yet alive.

Honestly, if there is no disclaimer on the commentary track for The Limey, which has Lem Dobbs bitching and pissing and moaning throughout the whole thing, there certainly shouldn't have been a disclaimer for this one, as the most controversial utterance it contained was David Swift wondering mildly why they didn't use the dress-cutting scene for the remake.

Anyway, at 4p I staggered back out with my pounds and pounds of bags. The rain had stopped, and I had to go down to John's house to drop off the Cake of Much Heaviness.

I decided to walk to 9th and catch the bus, as that would be a straighter route than taking the train, but when I got to 9th, the street was blocked off by the official start of summer in NY, the 9th Ave. Food Fair. Normally, I totally dig the 9th Ave. Food Fair, but not when it means that I have to walk farther and catch the train and everything was so heavy! Fie on the 9th Ave. Food Fair, fie!

But I finally made it to John's and re-arranged his entire fridge to fit the cake in, since I hadn't refrigerated it at the office and it the icing had gotten a little melty. I also to him and Cari that it was pretty unlikely that I would be returning that evening, see comments above re suicide.

Then I had two hours to kill before rehearsal, but I couldn't imagine actually doing anything that required alertness or mobility, so I just took my still-heavy bags (though the removal of the glass cake pan certainly helped) downtown to HB where we would be rehearsing.

I was hideously early, but I just went inside and tried to look like an acting student. Not tough, as the difference between actors and acting students is pretty much just lines around the eyes. Acting students tend to have more of them, because they are under such pressure, actors are older, but calmer.

Eventually, Tony and Ayse showed (remember, Brian is out of town!), and we rehearsed. God, it was hard to pull the energy out of my ass, but since we were rehearsing in the basement studio with no-one around, I wasn't going to waste the opportunity to be able to scream at the top of my lungs.

I have to do that, see, scream at the top of my lungs, about five times in this piece. And I'm trying to make them all sound different, so that it won't be tiresome to the audience. Also, they aren't all in a row, they are widely spaced, as it can be very difficult for an audience to be pummeled with volume for minutes at a time.

I think it will be okay, I think that there will be enough variety in my performance not to make the audience just sit there, cringing and waiting for it to end.

So, we rehearse on Monday and Wednesday with Brian, then he's off to Cancun. I asked when tech was going to be, and Tony said that it was Monday week. And Ayse said, "But that's when I'm getting married!" Yep, I will be teching my show alone on the stage by myself. Tony is completely fatalistic about it, as am I. We will have the amount of rehearsal that we will have, and it will be what it is.

Then I went home and collapsed. And by collapsed, I mean collapsed!

I sat down in my chair and knat row after row, and watched Alias and CSI and the season ender of Friends and slowly unkinked myself. By the time I went to bed, I felt nearly human again.

By the way, was that season ender of SNL weird or what?

I mean, I realize that it was Will Ferrell's last show, but I don't remember there ever being such a fuss when anyone else left the show before, I mean, it's not as though he's the first to leave the nest and fly before, but they had him play almost every character that he ever played, and when he did Neil Diamond and Alex Trebeck, the real Neil and Alex came on at the end.

I almost expected him to be put on a lighted pyre and set out to sea. Because after that sendoff, nothing but death would be appropriate.

Today we were supposed to go see Metamorphoses, and I was sitting here last night, trembling with exhaustion, thinking that while I certainly do want to see it again and the sooner the better, frankly, not today, the thought of getting up early again today just made me start to convulse, but I didn't know whether Cynthia and Fran had expelled alot of effort in clearing the day or engaging a sitter, so I really didn't entirely know what to say.

Then they came downstairs, all casual-like, asking what we were doing about the show, and then it all came out that none of us wanted to leave our beds and the sweet land of sleep this morning!

So we are going next weekend. I cannot wait, but I'm so glad I could sleep in today, it was such a treat.

Lenten entries missed:

Heather went to Utah, got sick, her children turned into screaming freakin' banshees, totally didn't care about the state of my soul one little bit, and celebrated Spiderwatch 2002.

Today's horoscope:
Today, your heart calls for one course and your head another. Find a compromise between intellectual and emotional priorities.

One year ago today:
Nothing is sweeter than Friday night after work, the whole weekend stretching ahead of you, fifty-eight hours where I neither have to say nor hear the word "invoice".

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Last Updated Sun 19 May 20:11:09 2002