Check out the new design from Karen! It's taken from a picture somewhere on my site of Baldrick, and it's very appropriate, because you'll not see nothing as sweet as Baldrick. Except for when he's giving Sally a well-deserved ass-kicking, because that's not so sweet.

Yesterday was two shows, a matinee of Miracles and an evening of the one acts. How many cupcakes should I make?

I figured that six would be enough, hell, I didn't sell a single one the other night, and I was running out of batter anyway. I sold four before the show, and when I came out afterwards, the other two were gone (and $2 was tucked under the container).

Now, I was saving one for John, who always buys a plain white cupcake with plain white icing, and it was gone. Along with all of the other cupcakes. If I went home, that would cost me four dollars, should I? Would it be worth it?

Yeah, I went home. I stopped at the supermarket and got more sprinkles and jimmies and cake mix and some small bottles of lemonade, because if I don't introduce a new product every week, I get bored. Then I made twelve cupcakes, brought them back and frosted them in the box office.

It's actually pretty handy to do it that way, because the frosting doesn't smear or get crushed in the container, and I can take requests. Like at the matinee, Moira wanted the one with coconut and I sold it before she could get it, so I just put coconut on another one! It's like magic!

I made decent money, at last. I sold seven cupcakes, so that made up for the ride home, and a few wines sold, that's where the money is. I have hit the same that I made that first week of Shrew and there's still one more show tonight, so even with the $7 and $8 evenings, I'm still doing okay.

So I bought those t-shirts when I got home. If they don't fit, I'm going to have one. A fit, that is.

I watched both shows, the matinee and some of the one-acts.

The afternoon show was Omar's welcome back to the company, and it was really good, he was really good. It was a great script, except for this one deadly monologue towards the end that just about bored me to tears, and it wasn't Ryan's fault, nobody could have done anything with that terrible thing.

The one-acts that I saw were very good as well. The Man With the Flower in His Mouth was very different than how we did it, but it worked really well.

Le's two new one-acts were great--one was very spooky and brilliantly performed, and the other was a similar play to another Le wrote a while ago, where heterosexuality is freakish and wrong, this one is about how fat is beautiful and skinny is ugly. The thing that made me laugh hardest was the line "She's parading her neuroses for everyone to see, and I don't want to see them!" which is identical to Shirley's line in Bubbling about prejudice towards fat people.

Man, I sure have been crying a lot lately.

Not that I'm depressed or sad or anything, what I keep crying at is every single book that I read, every TV show or play or movie that I watch. I cried about four times during Miracles yesterday, to which everybody said, "You did?" because it's a comedy.

I'm watching Broadway: The American Musical on PBS, weeping my eyes out at a small clip of Sunday in the Park with George. I teared up at the first notes of "Sunday, by the blue purple yellow red water" and was flat out sobbing at "On an ordinary Sunday" when the painting came down, and that was with huge chunks of the middle cut out. But honestly, who doesn't cry at the end of Act I of Sunday in the Park? People without tear ducts, that's who.

Tears just seem to be nearby at all times, without sadness. I think my nerve endings are very near the surface. I know it isn't hormones, because I'm not always ovulating or on my period, what is changing so that I'm always bursting into tears?

It's not as though I haven't always been an easy audience, but honestly, this is getting ridiculous. And I'm not even performing right now, so it won't come in handy onstage!

Today's horoscope:
This looks like a lovely day -- startling and surprising, but lovely nonetheless. Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to keep your legendary calm, no matter what the stars or other mere mortals toss your way.

One year ago today:
Donna was saying about how the navel is the power centre, that it is the centre of many things. She didn't mention that it was the centre of all my spaghetti, but it certainly was. Oof, that was uncomfortable.

* Yesterday / Index / This Month / Tomorrow *

E-Mail / In the Belly of the Hedgehog

Graphics by the cat-loving Karen!

This page was written by hand. My hand. Only pussies use HTML editors.
Last Updated Sun 1 May 16:36:09 2005