Brrr! It is so windy today!! I mean really ridiculously so, my Christ I thought I'd get blown over walking down the street.

So yesterday was My Date With Omar. I hadn't seen him since 12 October, so it was exactly a month. I missed him so much.

We were meeting an hour before the movie, and he was twenty minutes late. I was just starting to worry when he showed up--he had to do something extra at his morning job and was running late. He looked so beautiful. His hair was still long, he didn't cut it all off after Doll's House, though it was trimmed down a bit. And his sideburns were gone, which made me sad, since they belonged to me. He always said that they were mine, that he grew them because I liked them and they are gone. Well, he kept them for a year, which meant something. He just wanted a change. The hair is mine, too.

We went inside to the cafe and I gave him his birthday presents. Some months ago he had mentioned some cheesy horror movies that he really loved when he was a kid, and I bought them on Ebay. He was really thrilled and touched that I remember, though of course I bought them as soon as he mentioned them, so I didn't really remember for five months.

Then we saw the movie. And what a movie. It was honestly the most revolting movie that I have ever seen. Formerly the most revolting movie that I have ever seen was The Audition, which was wonderful but entirely revolting film. This was worse. It's called In My Skin, a French film about a woman who hurts her leg and becomes obsessed with the wound and her blood and her skin, making it bigger and bigger and...my God, it's revolting. Great, but entirely disgusting.

Large sections I didn't see, hiding my head in Omar's shoulder or my hands. Afterwards he said that he was sorry, but I really liked it, I did, he just meant that he thought I'd be into it. I love blood, as we well know, but I really don't like wounds. And there were plenty of wounds in this movie. There were several sections where I just had to breathe deeply to try not to be sick.

It may not sound as though I am recommending it, but I am. To those with strong stomachs. It will stay with me for a long time.

Afterwards we went to the Port Authority and he made me drop him outside because it was rush hour and too crowded in there and he said that he didn't want me subjected to that. Sweet, if possibly not true. We kissed and hugged goodbye, and I walked away, then called him about two minutes later and we went over the date together. Funny how after so much time apart, it's easier to talk about real things on the phone.

I told him that he seemed a little distant, just a step back from me than he usually is, but I didn't think that it had anything to do with me personally, and he said that it wasn't, that he's coming back. It's a process that can't be rushed, coming back. I can wait, but I want him to come back soon.

So last night was the Wednesday rehearsal, the rehearsal where I get everyone. The only day of the week where I get every goddamn actor in this goddamn show. Can you tell I'm getting sick of these goddamn actors' goddamn schedules?

It was also our first off-book night and we were going to run the show for the first time. Ha ha ho. It is to laugh. I mean honestly, I've been directing for a decade, how can I still be such a cockeyed optimist? On the other hand, if I wasn't a cockeyed optimist, I probably couldn't be a director. You forget the pain, like how after going through childbirth women have more than one child.

It was shaky, they didn't know their lines, they didn't know their cues, we had to stop a thousand times and we couldn't get through the entire show, stopping before II-2 because it was after 11p. Dear Lord God above. On the other hand, it's a great script, good cast, and good direction--there are good bones there. It'll be a good show.

Today's horoscope:
Clubs morph into support groups. Sharing what you like is ultimately more interesting than a catalogue of things that tick you off. Good friends know what tastes good when you're hungry.

One year ago today:
My Hobbity stage manager was there, taking notes for me, though as I discovered when I read them, he didn't write down all of my "fucking"s. He said that he would have run out of ink had he added all of those in.

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Last Updated Sun 16 November 00:37:09 2003