doing your research

I get into politics.

I also try to make sure I don't just automatically vote my demographic. Which, I'll be honest, I catch myself doing at times.

Wikipedia is a fairly decent place to research candidates' backgrounds and takes on various issues. For example, I was very impressed by this brilliant idea of Biden's:
He would expand national service programs to high school students so that they can earn money for college by participating in public service while they are in high school.
But, on the other hand, who can argue with this bit about Sarah Palin:
Palin filed formal complaints against both Ruedrich and former Alaska Attorney General Gregg Renkes, who both resigned; Ruedrich paid a record $12,000 fine.[4]she is kool


blog chat

me: My blog is a drag lately, anyway. I got all serious.

Tai: yeah, what's up with that.


holy crap, Social Security Office Computer

There is a lot involved in changing your name.

And THEN you have to deal with the human beings.

the best news story of the year.

This knocks my socks off, floats my boat, and cleans my clock all at once.

I don't know the ins and outs of rights to republish this on my blog, but Ben Calhoun did an amazing job of putting this story together, and I just couldn't possibly improve on it, so I'm just posting what he wrote over at www.wbez.org. (disclaimer: I tweaked and twiddled and trimmed because there are some vocal nuances that don't come across when you read the story)

Jesse Jackson Jr. Sparks Group Hug in Denver

When the Illinois delegation got here earlier this week, there was so much bad blood that the idea -just the idea- that anyone might make amends was a joke.

Like on Sunday, when Illinois House Speaker Michael Madigan walked through the hotel lobby.

Reporters asked him if the convention might be a good time for him and Illinois Governor Rod Blagojevich to patch things up.

REPORTER: The governor's coming in, are you guys going to try to get together?

MADIGAN: We are together. The idea that we are not together is just a figment of the imagination of the media.


REPORTER: Oh, come on.

(A shorter pause. Then Reporter and Madigan explode into raucous laughter)
And that's how it was. People would ask, and Illinois Democrats would take turns paying lip service, with phrases like "come together" and "party unity."

Then on Wednesday morning, ailing Congressman Bobby Rush took the mic.

Rush has been battling cancer and there was recently a newspaper column saying Congressman Jesse Jackson Jr.'s wife, Chicago Alderman Sandi Jackson, was thinking about running for Rush's congressional seat.

Rush took offense, and this morning he took a shot at Jackson in front of everyone, calling him out by telling a story about an eagle and what he referred to as "the lesser birds of the sky."

To understand what happened next, how unusual it was, you have to know that politics is often defined by bitter and petty rivalries. The intersection of money, power and ego seems to be the perfect place for slights -or even just PERCEIVED slights- to spiral out of control.

Those conflicts can destroy relationship for years, decades.

They can grind government into gridlock.

And, for the most part, these conflicts stay out of public view, too complicated and messy to make it into the news.

That said, shortly after Rush sat down, Jackson took the podium.
JACKSON: What an exciting time it is for all of us in Illinois to watch our favorite son accept the Democratic nomination for president of the United States.

After that, Jackson started to talk about family, about Barack Obama, about the election. And then, just as he got ready to step down, he started talking about forgiveness.

JACKSON: Acts of reconciliation are all around us, but we don't put them front and center.

Then he turned to Rush, who'd spent much of his speech trashing Jackson with his thinly veiled metaphor about being an eagle.

JACKSON: Bobby, if there's anything I've ever done, or we've ever done to offend you, I'm leaving it at this convention. You're my friend, and I appreciate you.

Then, just like that, Jackson climbed down from the stage... Rush stood up, and in front of the whole delegation, the two hugged.

But that was just the start.

JACKSON: Debbie Halvorson!

Jackson turned to Debbie Halvorson, a state senator running for Congress. The two have been at odds over the possible construction of a new airport south of Chicago.
JACKSON: Where are you?
They hugged, too.

But that was still just the beginning. Jackson again turned to the audience.
JACKSON: Who else out here been mad at me I ain't figured out yet?
Jackson and Chicago Mayor Richard Daley have been slapping at each other for a long time - the congressman criticizing the mayor in the press, and threatening to run against him. Jackson hadn't even looked at Daley who was sitting right next to him... and then, just like that, Daley tugged on Jackson's sleeve, stood up, and hugged him.

The cameras flashed, people around the room looked at each other in disbelief.

And after the hug was over, Jackson turned his back to the podium, crying and wiping tears from his face. Struggling to collect himself. But there was still a bigger hug on the way.
JACKSON: I'm not going to be satisfied until I see Rod Blagojevich give Michael Madigan a hug.
Okay. We need to pause here.

Because out of ALL the bad relationships in Illinois politics, House Speaker Madigan and Governor Rod Blagojevich arguable have the VERY worst. They call each other names, they don't trust each other, they sabotage each other. Lately, they won't even sit in the same room together.

There then there they were. Hugging.

Cynics could wonder whether Jackson, whose family has connections to Michelle Obama's, had planned the stunt to blunt stories about the poisonous relationships in Barack Obama's home delegation.

They could wonder whether all the hugging actually meant anything.

But for those who watched, it all seemed genuine.

Shortly after everyone left, Jackson and Blagojevich were seen on the street ...hugging.

forehead smack

I've had some good revelations from this blog. About success and happiness. Mostly how chasing success is a waste of time; you're better off focusing on your own happiness.

So I was biking along the beautiful beautiful cerulean blue lake today, trying to compose a list of things that make me happy so I can focus on those things instead of success.

And then I realized that what makes me very, very happy is success.

Successful friends. Winning. Beating odds. Getting recognition. Figuring things out and solving problems. Stories with resolutions. Making progress. Being a good friend/girlfriend wife/actor/artist/all that crap on the header of this blog.


It would be much easier to ignore success to focus on happiness if the #1 thing that brought said happiness weren't success.

Well, at least I've identified the circle I've been running around in.

Dubious awards

There's an annual award thingy in Chicago for theater. You know, like the Oscars or your high school drama club awards. They're called The Joseph Jefferson awards. Named for this Chicago actor on the left.

I like love TimeOut Chicago's caption of this photo: 19th-century thespian Joseph Jefferson pictured here, searching in vain for more interesting nominees.

As usual, several of my friends are nominated - and I am very proud of/happy for them. Also nominated are some plays that I saw that I thought were laaaaaame. And some great ones, of course, didn't even get a mention. I mean, it's an artistic awards ceremony - so it comes with several theatrical seasons' worth of grains of salt.

(I am trying to think of a pun of "seasons" and "grains of salt," but friends, I'll be honest, this is another drunkblogging episode. SHHHHHHHHH. DON'T TELL THE OLD DUDE WITH THE POOL CUE.)

Mostly I was inspired by that TimeOut quip.
They've done an amazing job of simultaneously exalting Chicago's theater scene and making it not take itself so damn seriously. By the way.

Jeff Awards and High-Paying, High-Profile Shows: professional accomplishments I used to see as marks of success, and now seem utterly arbitrary. And not necessarily connected to the things I believe in.


booking commercials.
And booking 90% of on-camera jobs.
In fact, pretty much every mark of success in this business is totally arbitrary. There, I bolded it so you know i mean it.
Thank goodness this blog is teaching me that the only success worth chasing is my own happiness.


alternate careers

Drug companies produce a lot of industrial videos. Apparently I fit the "type" of a drug sales rep because I always end up playing them - the responsible, industrious rep, or sometimes the freewheeling wining and dining glengarry glen ross drug sales rep.

It's probably arrogant and it's definitely presumptuous, but I've always figured that I could actually do that job.

I mean, if I felt like it. (and, more realistically, if I had EVER showed any GLIMMER of ability in chemistry or applied sciences.)

Sometimes I see them at the doctor's office.
Hi. I play you on TV.

diligence and hard work

It's a good idea to send thank you notes to producers and writers after shoots and voice-over sessions.

cannot stop
sounding like a fucking moron in these thank you notes.

I know this summer's gonna be the best/if I don't die from lack of rest

I have adjusted to living in this city pretty well. summers in chicago seem like a tiny blip to me. it gets hottish for a week or so, everyone freaks out, then it goes back to this mild, temperate weather that -don't get me wrong- is very nice, but just doesn't feel like summer.

growing up, summer was months and months of endless heat, drought, and scorching days. cars left in the sun were science experiments that claimed lipstick, cassette tapes, even the industrial automotive glue that held on your rear-view mirror, leaving only a fascinating melted goo.

And then, while you were distracted by seeing what else had melted, you sear your hands on the seat belt. that one leaves a burn mark.
then the steering wheel.
then the gear shift.

things died of heatstroke everywhere. everyone spent every free moment swimming or out on the lake, any lake. pocket handkerchiefs are a necessity for men, for mopping their faces. kids are shuttled from pool to pool to pool.

heat heat heat. When you walked outside, it would just hit you like a huge pillow. Whooooph. 110 degrees and humid.

when august comes here, instead of being the worst, most torturous month, it's the one that makes me realize that i've missed summer all over again and the nights are already chilly.


words of wisdom

chat with my friend Chris late Friday night (after the entire apartment was very, very clean)
Chris: wanna go out?

Me: dangerous question
huge fight tonight
2nd fight ever

Chris: they happen
there will be many more

Me: you know how to cheer a girl up

Chris: just trying to point out how you're putting more on it than you need to
but I totally understand

Of course he was right. Perspective is impossible in the moment but it's persistent - you'll have to acknowledge it at some point.

I ended up meeting Chris out. Today the three of us biked down to see Dark Knight on an IMAX screen.

There will be many more fights, but always just the one person to make it up with and sleep next to that night.



Cat: Why are you vacuuming?

Me: Cleaning makes me feel better.

Cat: At 10:00 on a friday night?

Me: Cleaning makes me feel better.

Cat: I've never seen you fight.

Me: We never do. We did once. It was over something dangerous and illegal.

Cat: What was this about?

Me: I guess this is where I draw the line with what I put on the blog.

Cat: The vacuum kind of scares me.

Me: I'm really sorry. Cleaning makes me feel better. I'm almost done.


unexpected successes

The universe is trying to placate me from the Grave Injustice That So Pissed Me Off.
  • 4 surprise free tickets to a cubs game [read: 2 tickets for us, 2 sold for beer money]
  • 2 surprise commercials lifted from a spot I shot over a year ago [equivalent to booking and shooting 2 brand new commercials/mortgage for 2.5 months]
  • Yesterday's shoot was a lot of fun, mostly thanks to my new friend Timothy, who played my thoroughly disconcerted husband as I suddenly went into labor.
I'm "on hold" for the FANCY MULTIMILLION DOLLAR theater company. This means they haven't officially offered me the job, but if anyone else offers me a job, I have to let them know so they can make a move first. I guess it's like we're going steady; we aren't married but I can't see anyone else.

Someone offer me a job?

More successes:
Those wardrobe, hair, and makeup artists are some real badasses. Here I am as a 1920s mama.


naivete vs. prescience

not TOO long after I started working in theater, I discovered that every grownup ("grownup" = let's say in 40ish territory) who was still working in the arts by that point in their life was CRAAAAAAZZZZZY.

In varying degrees, but. All of 'em, pretty crazy.

I forgot about this for a while, and mostly I'd say that lately I've written that theory off.

Lately-lately, I don't know. Maybe it really does take its toll, all that instability and subjective success.

Also this means I'm heading down the same path myself. The path to CRAAAAAAAAAZZZZZZZY.

so much lameness.

How do you successfully express anger? Let me tell you what is NOT successful: getting so mad that you cry. This?? This is a TERRIBLE way of being taken seriously: uncontrollable angry crying. And so, so self-defeating because you will only become angrier with yourself for not only getting DICKED OVER to begin with, but then responding -not with well-chosen cutting words, not with badass roundhouse kicks, nononononononono - BY CRYING.

I .... am going to lie low a few days before expressing my indignation so as not to succumb to the Ridiculous Furious Cry.


Sometimes I can be a little emotional.


so many adventures

I checked on my friend's blog to catch up on her travels. Her goal is to earn her living as a travel writer. The latest post goes a little like this:
A month in the jungle:

- four days living in a hammock on a boat on a river in the Amazon!

- arriving in the largest city in the world accessible only by water and air!

- eating a kilo of fruit every day for breakfast, and a different kind of fish every day for dinner!

She apologizes for not providing more details about her 14-day [backpacking] trek through the Incan ruins in Peru. Meanwhile, last night I realized that I am gradually slipping back into pre-trip ways: biking less and driving more, wasting more time online.

I was trying to decide what to post about this morning and it occurred to me that I have my own damn adventures.
- going to an upscale hotel in downtown Chicago to spend two hours being custom-fit with a 9 month pregnancy pad

- playing a game called "punt the baby" with 37 close friends, egging on Rachel as she drop-kicked a Cabbage Patch Kid for maximum distance

- walking into a florescent-lit room of strangers, doing a 400-year-old monologue 3 different times, and making them laugh a little more each time.

- learning to play "Turn the Page" by Bob Seger on the guitar. FOUR CHORDS. LOOK OUT, JOE SATRIANI.


Assorted forms of success

Originally uploaded by Mikey-Mike
Somehow, I beat everyone in the very first pool game of the evening (where "everyone" equals "Jason and Tim") at the tiny roadside bar in Wisconsin where every drink costs an equally miraculous and dangerous $3.

I was so pleased with my unexpected success that I quit playing for the rest of the night so as not to break my winning streak.

filthy filthy whoring!!! NNnnn... ye..? Mm?

What if you knew of a theater with very questionable business practices, that regularly screwed people over, but produced really beautiful and wonderful work and paid better than any other theater around?

Would you want to work for this theater?

Or would you prefer to work with nicer people on crappier shows?

I guess it depends on your ultimate goal.

Do you most want to
  • make good theater in order to further your career?
  • make good theater in order to reach people with beautiful and touching art?
  • work with fun cool people?
  • earn your living doing theater?
  • make theater that benefits underserved communities?

Do you like it when I pretend to ask you questions that I'm actually asking myself?


filthy filthy whoring!!! YES!!!

Are commercials artistically challenging, and therefore satisfying, to the actor? Oh hell no. I mean. There are some great ones out there, for sure, but your standard bite-and-smile, P&G spot? No, of course not.

I have always thought they are HILARIOUS fun. It's kind of like playing dress-up! Pretend you're a person in a commercial on tv! ACK!!! YOU ARE!! THAT IS CRAZY!!!

AND there's always really good food. AND you get paid. Sometimes you get paid quite handsomely. There are many artists who despise the filthy filthy whoring nature of commercial acting, but dammit, I think it's fun. Maybe one day the novelty will wear off and I'll feel demeaned and insulted by the process, but I hope not.

I booked a shoot on Wednesday.
I don't feel particularly successful about it - sure, I took direction, I said the lines right, but anyone will tell you that it's usually pure dumb luck to book these things. It is SO arbitrary. But nevertheless ...I guess it is success in some form - even if it's the kind that some people really look down on. And I am real grateful for it. Cause damn, folks, I have needed some money, and I get to earn it having a lot of giddy fun.


Some Things Seem Doomed To Failure From The Onset

Such as.
Pizza besieged by mini-pigs-in-blankets.
But then again, hell. I've been wrong before. Maybe this is gonna take off.



About fifteen years ago, I had some real problems with depression. I was hospitalized a few different times and was on medication for several years.

A lot of health professionals will tell you that depression is a lifelong condition. Like alcoholism, you're never cured; it's just up to you to manage it effectively. Mmmeh. I ... have divided feelings on this.

It comes back. About once, maybe twice a year. It doesn't last that long, so the trick seems to be reminding myself that a) this is a thing in my brain, not an actual problem that I can fix, and that b) it'll be over soon. And most-most-most of all, c) every single day used to feel like this.

I am so grateful that that time has passed.

When it comes, though, in its mini-version, it's almost always connected to work and the choices I've made about what to do with my life. I feel lazy, I feel useless, I feel stupid, I feel- a bunch of other negative things that I'm ashamed to write in this blog. They walk the line between being ridiculously hard on myself and nauseatingly self-pitying. But mostly I like to lay in bed and stare at photos of my grandfather, cry, and try to fall asleep as quickly as possible for as long as possible.

Reminder to self: every single day used to feel like this.

I was telling my friend Sarah about my epiphany of internal/external success, and how internally defined success is the only one that can be truly satisfying.

"True," she said, "but external success is usually what pays bills."

[goals for] internal success: be nice to yourself. work out.

external success: I'm "on hold" for my bikini audition. But, for a different part of the commercial where I am definitely not wearing a bikini.



My olympic badminton training is not going so well, I guess. What with my staying out till 2am on a monday night. Either that, or I'm the ne'er-do-well, rock n roll Olympic athlete who puts the "bad" in "badmin....


I met up with a successful actor/producer friend last night for a few drinks. As she indulged my annoying and persistent questioning described what success meant to her, I figured out through a vodka-tinted haze that you can probably divide success into two categories:

1. internal success (that you define and judge yourself), or

2. external success (as determined/defined by other people.)

Then I confessed feelings of jealousy, defended my own insecurity, and told her I only wished I had another liver to switch over to so I could enjoy the evening even longer said good night to my wonderful friend then rode my bike to the next bar where I found some more friends who were still out.

Internal and external success.

Ow. My head.

External success:
Callback for my bikini audition. I think it was the Duran Duran reference I ad-libbed into the "80s" scene.

Internal success:
Ad-libbing the Duran Duran reference.
Voice-over audition today where I actually managed to pull off "sexy voice."

Thanks, Rachel.

Rachel is Kayaking.
I am Badminton.

You Are Badminton

You are quite talented but not very appreciated.

You are detail oriented, very focused, and agile.

You are happy to forsake glory for success in something you truly love.

The quiz is comprised of five not-so-soulsearching questions, such as 'do you like obscure sports?' (I answered no ... and got badminton?) so - hold on to your hat - I think it isn't actually that rooted in deep psychological analysis.

However, I like that last sentence a lot. I like to think that's true.

You are happy to forsake glory for success in something you truly love.


oh, for REAL.


Hi, this message is for Lacy? Lacy, this is INTERN calling from FANCY MULTIMILLIONDOLLAR THEATER COMPANY, and we're calling you with an audition.


Your audition is at INCONVENIENT TIME at THOROUGHLY INCONVENIENT LOCATION. Please call us back to confirm and give us your email address WHICH WE HAVE HAD ON FILE FOR YEARS so we can email you the SIDES YOU AUDITIONED WITH BEFORE. BOTH TIMES.


I mean,



I don't really think I want to have kids. And most of the time, I think this means something is wrong with me.

This video makes me not-feel like anything is TOO wrong.

Except, I just have to say, YES, I like Allison Krauss, and this is a very successful cover, but I'm not quite sure why they used this song to.... oh fuck it. Look at those moose. OMG.


80% of success is just showing up

Brandon's been playing saxophone a lot lately. He's even started playing out around town. Last night was his third time playing in public, and it was at Martyr's.

In front of hundreds of people.

And he was really really really nervous.

They played before, after, and alongside some true badasses - guys who started the rockabilly scene out of Chicago back in the 80s. The emcee rattled off the rock pedigrees of the guest musicians all night. They were SO GOOD. In the way that you get REALLY GOOD when you play music for decades and decades.

Walking up Lincoln Avenue at midnight with a beat-up tenor saxophone case, Brandon asked me again and again if they had sounded awful next to those other guys. Who had record deals, cult followings, and years of touring under their belts.

They did not sound awful at all.

Nor did they sound as polished and tight.

But they were freaking THERE. And he soloed every song, his 3rd time playing in front of people. I could not have been prouder of him.


then sometimes it goes well.

Right on the heels of that fiasco-of-a-farce debacle, I had another big theater audition - this time for a play I actually like, in a role that is actually fantastic.

That was this morning.
I think it went well.
They let me read the entire side, even.

And then both guys smiled at me really nicely, and one said, 'that was terrific.'

Thanks, dude.
Even if I didn't nail it, thanks for being nice.
I wanted to hug you. I still kind of do.

let's not just take that for granted.

Your blog post published successfully!

Did it really, Blogger?

Did it really?



As I mentioned, we got 100% ass-lost in the Andes. We were saved by this house:The following morning when we got up at dawn, Brandon and the dude who got us lost to begin with our Swiss companion, Cedrick, took photos. At the time, I was too exhausted. And we were honestly so appalled by the poverty, something in me felt too voyeuristic taking pictures.

Also, we were fucking freezing, and preoccupied with trying to keep the chickens from getting into the house and making sure we hadn't asphyxiated the guinea pigs overnight.

... there was a lot going on.

Also we were still completely lost. Four hours later when we finally walked into town, it was the wrong town.


Before I went on the trip, I was getting into home decor and read a lot of blogs about modernism and Jonathan Adler and fancy things to do and buy to make your house beautiful.

That night in that house, I pretty much lost all interest or regard for any of that. Apartment Therapy, along with all other non-personal blogs, is now gone from my Google Reader subscription. I don't miss them.

Another thing I've noticed:
When I needed to say something, I only knew the words to say that. Directly. If I didn't know how to say it, I looked it up and practiced it. And then I just freaking said it.
Good afternoon, I have a cough that produces phlegm and I cannot sleep.

I just didn't have the vocabulary to hedge or shyly insinuate something I needed.

Like any writer, I love language and I relish my right and privilege to use English like Scrooge McDuck diving in his vault of gold coins, but ...

...that's a skill to keep in mind.


Things that cheer me up

because, come on, there will always be shitty auditions.


I am REALLY into this site lately. Real emails from real moms. Like this one:

just talked to Grandma and your aunt’s wedding is going to be the 6th of December. She asked if she could send your invitation here and I told her that if she wanted YOU to get it, she should mail it to YOU. Novel idea? Anyway, the best part of the conversation came later when she told me that your aunt had found her dress and it is beautiful but your aunt is worried that because the dress is ivory, people will think she’s not a virgin. Are you kidding me? She’s 41 years old. I’d be wearing flaming scarlet so no one would think I was a virgin, especially if I were. I didn’t think there was such a thing as a real forty year old virgin. I thought even nuns had had an adventure or two by that age! Geez! At least I’m not related to them by blood.



PostcardsFromYoMomma. Oh, I love it.

The stock sound effect that means BOMB CLEARLY DROPPING


That was one completely BOMBED AUDITION. One page into the side, cut off mid sentence, walk of shame back up through the entire theater past the director producer casting director AND readers, BOMBED AUDITION.


This never happens, but today Brandon and I had plans to get a beer right after the audition.

....My 'Please Stop Talking Now And Leave' audition.

Brandon: (thoughtful pause) This means you're getting a callback.

Me: If that happens, you get full license to ignore me bitching about auditions for five years. But it will seriously be one for the record books.

Strange how no matter how completely stupid I think the play is, how impractical the run schedule is (I'd be stuck in Chicago for the holidays, which would really be sad and tough) and how much I still agree with the choices I made in the scene and how I handled the language...

I can still feel like a real fucking loser after that.

Running Your Life Successfully Means Not Acting Like A Big Baby

1. Nooooooooooooooooo AUDITION IN A SWIMSUIT Noooooooooooooooooooooo

2. Noooooooooooooooooooo still so dizzy and tired; I just know Cesar is right and the next logical step is parasite which means STOOL SAMPLE Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo


Let's Get More Realistic With Our Advertising

Gmail robots inserted this ad to the right of an email from my agent:
100% Free SugarDaddy Site
Are you a model? Find a SugarDaddy to make your Dreams come true! Free

I like the transition from "Are you a model?" to "you should just go ahead and embrace prostitution."


The Price of Narcissism: $52.71/yr.

A few years ago when I had a lucrative writing job, I signed up to pay $52.71 yearly so that my humble little imdb.com entry could include my headshot. It seemed silly but fun, and also tax deductible. And I got sort of egged into it, and oh what the hell, I like having an imdb entry like a REAL actor. You know, a successful one.

Now, one renewed credit card later, I am being called on to do the following:
  1. Go to: http://resume.imdb.com/resume/
2. Sign in to your account
3. Update your credit card expiration date
That's just to keep a PICTURE on my imdb entry. The entry will stay, either way. THAT part is free. The picture... $52.71.

I'm not really sure I can afford my narcissism right now.
But I really hate to let it go... especially when I'm mere MONTHS away from having a SHORT FILM added to my credits!


Don't you understand!? MY IMDB CREDITS ARE ABOUT TO GROW BY 50%!!



Dear really nice and talented dude I am in this short film with:

please do not be creeped out. okay? Don't be creeped out.
you just seem SO FAMILIAR. Is it Arnie? Do you know Arnie? Everyone knows Arnie, so I'm just thinking, maybe that's it and I've seen you on his blog? But I didn't want to just ASK YOU THAT, which is weird, hey, do you know a guy named Arnie? Oh, no? Oh. Well. (LONG BAD SILENCE)

So, just hear me out, I googled you because it's a small community and I just figured that if I googled YOUR NAME and CHICAGO THEATER, bink, a very explanatory link would pop up and I'd be like OHHHHH he's in THIS theater company so I saw him in THAT PLAY and I probably ended up hanging out with him at a bar because we know THAT PERSON IN COMMON.

And then, okay possible misstep here, I admitted to googling you because it just seemed more direct to be like, 'well i'll be totally honest and ha ha creepy! ha ha! I googled you to try to figure out where I know you from,' [and now I know that we both know Thea, but, that's not it] I still know you from somewhere else, or maybe you just remind me of some composites of other people I think I know better than I actually do. Also I think I creeped you out a bit.

Also I am NOT TRYING TO HIT ON YOU because obviously we're both married. I mean, well duh, we ARE, INDIVIDUALLY, AND we're pretending to be married. In the film. Which is why there's a whole scene about me tickling your balls, which we have now practiced a LOT, thanks a lot, Director guy.

And it probably isn't creepy at all to pretend to have your balls tickled by a married woman who admitted to looking you up on the Internet.

And now writes about you on her blog.

Great. See you next rehearsal.



physical limitations

for the past 6 days I've been unexplainably dizzy and completely exhausted, sleeping almost the entire day and still dead on my feet. Dizzily dead. two doctor's appointments, several hours in the hospital and one CAT scan have yielded some useless pills and more annoying prohibitionist edicts, but no results.

Or improvement.

my mother is a hypochondriac, and no matter how crappy I feel, I'm always afraid I'm shamming. As in, shamming myself. Somehow not seeing how CONVENIENT it is that I started feeling ill at a certain time.

like now that I'm back and really need to start making some decisions about finding a job.