I'm cold again. And it's worse than yesterday, because when I went out to get breakfast this morning, I was so warm in my jacket that I didn't bring it with me to work, I just came in a t-shirt and sandals. And I managed to forget my work overshirt at home, which means that all I have is this little t-shirt, and if it gets colder, why it's too bad for me! And if it rains on my computer, I'll have to take off my shirt and go home in my bra!

Actually, I"ll probably think of a different way to keep my computer dry, but as of this very little minute, I can't think of it. So hopefully, no rain before 10p, that's not too much to ask.

So I spent the night dreaming about Mark, and then yesterday morning I watched Theatre Talk and they had the creator-performers of Shockheaded Peter on, and I was filled with a burning desire to see that show.

Of course, I have already seen the show, six or seven or four or whatever years ago in England, and I loved it with all my heart. When I saw the sign go up in front of the Little Shubert in January, I about fell over. "Shockheaded Peter? I love Shockheaded Peter!"

I don't want this to be one of those shows that I always meant to see, so I sent an email to Mark saying let's see this show, you will love it, let's get tickets for this particular date in May, and he said yes!

Over the weekend, all of the shows at the theatre (I must think up something to call it to distinguish it from Love Creek) closed, so it was all about the striking of various sets all day.

Whenever our resident company strikes out a show, I always get something (like the mirror and the red curtains from last time), and this time I got a whole tea set! There were actually several tea sets, all Wedgewood-looking, so I grabbed four cups and saucers and a teapot and creamer and sugar bowl, and also the silver coffee pot, and put them in a box. Much more portable than that damn mirror!

Of course I have no place to put them in my apartment (I need a whole room just for props, dammit!), but a nice, period-looking tea set will certainly come in handy someday.

The most annoying part of the day was the strike out of one of the upstairs theatres, because they didn't have a great many people helping, and they had to stop the elevator in order to load and unload it, which made the alarm ring for minutes at a time.

Fuckhead doing the unloading would take one item, carry it all the way out to the dumpster, then come back for the next item. Which wouldn't have bothered me except for that damn alarm ringing and ringing and ringing and ringing, until I got up out of my seat and unloaded the elevator myself.

Not that fuckhead thanked me for it, although since I really only moved each item about three feet, it's not as though I actually made his job any easier, but since all he was was rude about there not being any key to stop the elevator with without all that noise, he could have been a tiny bit nice about my carrying that shit without choking to death on the words.

No show last night, so I went home and took over from the babysitter for the first time in months.

Putting the kids to bed is so much easier than it used to be--they can undress themselves without prompting, although they were watching a cartoon when I told them to get ready for bed, so there was a lot of staring at the box while dangling one sock in mid-air before I put a stop to that, and they can brush their teeth without supervision and all.

All I really had to do was observe them getting under the covers and turn out the light! Not even the latter in Molly's case, as she is allowed to read for awhile before going to sleep. Older kids, I highly recommend them!

So I happily sat in my apartment of an evening and watched old episodes of The Practice, which is pretty quick, since I tend to fast-forward through any scene without James Spader in it, though I did watch part of the one with the stalker who killed that woman and the husband wanted to kill him.

Later, I was outside smoking, when suddenly I heard this really peculiar sound coming from the backyard. It seemed to be some sort of garbled horse-whinny followed by a little song, but there isn't a whole lot scarier than a child's toy sounding all twisted and evil.

I didn't even recognize it as being a toy for about thirty seconds, it was just this terrifying noise, and why was it coming from the backyard? And even after realizing, why did it suddenly start? If I was in a horror movie, it would totally be the trademark of some serial killer, The See-'N'-Say Murderer or something, and I absolutely ran into the house.

It was the combination of knowing that I was alone in the house, but for the kids, the scary-ass sound, and the stalker-killer episode of The Practice, but I was absolutely shaking. The cats being calm calmed me down, though, because if there was a serial killer around, wouldn't they know with their feline senses? Probably not, but I was grasping at straws.

Then I heard footsteps above my head, and crept upstairs to see, and it was Fran. Phew! He'd take care of the serial killer toute suite. So I went to sleep.

Today's horoscope:
Just when you thought it was safe to operate your mouth without a permit, here you go again -- and at the most amazing time, too. Not to worry. This will be wildly entertaining to your friends.

One year ago today:
Not to mention that a line like "You know how two people can sometimes make each other more whole? That doesn't happen with me," will do nothing on this earth but make a woman want to be the one to make it happen. Take note, boys.

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Last Updated Wed 27 April 14:50:09 2005