So yesterday I went to the doctor for the first time in awhile, just for a checkup.

I love my doctor, she's the greatest, but my God, the woman never stops talking. She asks a question, and then you have to wait for a break in the monologue to throw in your answer--it's like jumping rope, timing how to get in smoothly without tripping on the rope.

My blood pressure is a tiny bit high, which I thought was wrong because my blood pressure has always been perfect, but apparently you get older and things change. I'm being betrayed by my body!

So I've got to get a chest x-ray and a mammogram and she gave me the name of a GYN, since I haven't been for about fifteen years (I know, I know), and a new scrip for my asthma inhaler.

Afterwards, since I had the car, I stopped at the House of Pancakes and had a lovely big breakfast. They have certainly improved the hash browns! I know you have been worried and waiting for the hash browns update, so I know that must be an enormous relief.

We were supposed to have the long dark rehearsal of the soul, but it ended up being a bit shorter than it was going to be.

Philip came over in the afternoon and we worked our scenes, then he went to work and I ran in to train the box office staff, then came back to rehearse my scene with John, which was appallingly bad. Honestly, I was so terrible, it would have blown your mind.

The thing with this play is, it's so long and it's so easy to work on sections and think that others are okay and neglect them, and then when you come back to them you are startled by the incredible badness.

Then Fran and I were going to work, but he got suddenly ill and that was it. I told him afterwards, "Man, if you didn't want to rehearse, all you had to do was say so! It wasn't at all necessary to start vomiting in the upstairs bathroom!"

He's okay, though, don't worry, the show will go on.

So I was sitting in my apartment at the computer, when suddenly a cat ran in hysterically, and I thought, "What's up with you now, Monty?" then looked and thought, "Um, I don't have a grey cat!"

Yes, a strange cat was in my apartment, running around, unable to figure out how to get out. Fortunately, Monty slept through the whole thing and Baldrick somehow didn't notice, so I didn't have a cat brawl on my hands on top of everything else.

He ran around, bumping headlong into the open glass door on my TV stand twice, while I followed after saying, "Kitty? Kitty?" trying to calm him down, then he ran out the door. I followed into the rest of the basement, but he was completely gone.

I figured out that he came in through the open door for the dog upstairs to get out of the rain, then ended up in the hell that is my apartment. When I told Cynthia and Fran later, they said, "Huh, some watchdog!" She has hysterics at my cat through my window, but lets strange grey cats wander all over the house completely unfettered! Of course, she was on the third floor at the time, but still.

The funniest thing was afterwards, Baldrick tiptoed around sniffing for hours, retracing the grey cat's route over and over again. I was like, "You were right here when it all happened, what's with all of the sniffing?" but he just carried on intently until bed time.

Lenten entries missed:

Amy wondered how her baby became a toddler, got ready for his first birthday, then had said party!

Today's horoscope:
Give opponents a little slack so that you can watch them move. You sense a strategy, but you have a limited window in which to use it. The Stars bring surprises that even you can't anticipate.

One year ago today:
I have no idea why I still sleep as late as I do, you'd think I'd fling myself from sleep like a prisoner getting out of Riker's, but so far, not so much.

* Yesterday / Index / This Month / Tomorrow *

E-Mail / In the Belly of the Hedgehog

Graphics by the sunny Saundra!

This page was written by hand. My hand. Only pussies use HTML editors.
Last Updated Fri 27 June 14:03:09 2003