Archive | October 5, 2005

"What does it mean to get bagels?"

By on October 5, 2005 in The Unexplainable
Ah, Stephanie.  I forget that you WildeChicks haven’t been around forever, so you are (blissfully) unfamiliar with my lingo.  So I’ll tell the story here.

When I was 19, I was dating a military captain.  He was GORGEOUS.  OHMYGOODLORD, he was hot.  6’2″, 190 lbs, TONED, bald-headed.. dimples.. just an all around looker.  And, you know, he was sort of a good personality.  Kinda.

Anyway, since we started dating when he was stationed at RSA, but he was soon transferred to VA.  He would come back here regularly, and we’d always stay in the luxury Motel 6 on Madison Boulevard.  He was that kind of big spender.  Anyway, we would spend the weekend together.  In this one hotel room.  With one bathroom.

Well, one of the things that he so adored about me was my lady-like nature (I’m an actress.. shove it).  And I have this slight .. issue .. with digestion.  It’s much like IBS (irritable bowel syndrome) except the symptom is not as convenient as constipation.  Quite the opposite.  Food goes through me at a rate seen only in nuclear labs.  So those who are close to me know this, and when we are out to eat and I give them the look, all I have to say is, “We’ve gotta go home soon,” and they know to respond with “CHECK, PLEASE!”

Because I will not (WILL NOT) ruin a public restroom.  WILL NOT.

Anyway, so we were stuck together in this little rinky-dink hotel room.  And, well, you know.. nature calls.

I really did not know how to handle it, so instead, I’d just say, “You know what?  I’m gonna run out and get some bagels for breakfast.”

Then I’d tear up the lobby bathroom.  Tear. It. Up.

And of course, I’d stop at the Texaco to get some bagels (also might be biscuits, muffins, etc).

So when I say I’m gonna go get bagels..

 

.. don’t expect a pastry.

FYI – This is now a common phrase among the theatre community.  JW would always make a point of stepping into a large group of people during CC last year, right before he was to go on, and say, “Hey, guys, I’m fixing to go get some bagels.. anyone want some of my bagels?”

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::sigh of contentment::

By on October 5, 2005 in The Unexplainable
OHMYDEARLORD,THATWASTHEBESTLUNCHEVER!!

Truly.  Wow.  Mm hm.  Still lovin’ that hot sauce.

I used to be able to deal with the extra-hot, but I’ve since wimped out.  (Heartburn does that to you.  And, as Steph taught me, us single gals can’t reliably take Nexxium..) Little purple pill my ass.. nine months later, a whole NEW heartburn.

It is GORGEOUS outside.  So beautiful.  Mom came to pick me up, so I walked across campus to the visitor’s center.  Honestly, that walk was the best part of my day.

I think jailbirds are sexy.

Delle comes in on Friday morning!  I really am psyched.  And then, Saturday morning.. big doins over at Renaissance.

Tonight, I’m hoping ole Bry-Bry will take care of the front lawn.  And maybe, just maybe, we can finagle some windows open.  My house is fairly new (or, at least, newly renovated), but none of the windows open.  Bryan, bless his heart, has banged, prodded, budged, and broken every window.. and of the 11, ONE opens.  But it’s in the bedroom, so that’s all that matters.

I’m sure our neighbors LOVED that last night.  Heh.

I had a cactus rot from the inside out in my desk garden.  It was NAAASSSTY.

I love calling Bryan at school and talking to the kids there.  I miss being up there all the time, like I was during the show.  I really can’t wait for Trumbauer to roll around.. did we ever find out, Ra, what we’ll be looking at?

::sigh:: Good day.  Great day.
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HOORAY!

By on October 5, 2005 in The Unexplainable

My mother is taking me to lunch, and we are going to indulge in some Beauregard’s.  Unfortunately, this is not my normal location, but any Beauregard’s IS Beauregard’s, and that means HOT WINGS.  Mmmm.

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Phone call, for Sarah..

By on October 5, 2005 in The Unexplainable
Well.  The fated interview was yesterday.  It was scheduled for four o’clock.  Not before.  So, although I wrote that last post around 2:45 p.m. and said I was leaving soon to ensure that I was home and calm when they called, I ended up not leaving here until 3:50
p.m.  And as I got in my car, at 3:51, they called.  Well, I was mad.  This is NOT what was arranged.  So I answered the call, and then told her to call back AT OR AFTER four.  I’m all about wanting to look good in an interview, but I already have a job.  (It’s amazing how cavalier one can be about things like that when they know that they don’t HAVE to win in the end.) So I drove home.

They did not call.  So I waited.  I waited outside of my house, because the dogs were nuts and I get better reception outside.  I finally had to go to the bathroom so badly that I could no longer wait, and I ran inside.  As soon as my rump hit the porcelain (yes, you’re welcome for the visual), the phone rang.  DAMNIT.  So I answered the call.  Yes, ladies and gentleman, I conducted an interview on the toilet.

And nailed it.

BUT, unfortunately, the second part of the interview requires internet access.  I told the interviewer that I wasn’t going to secure internet access until I was sure I had the job, and she said (in an evil, corporate catch-22) that the interview couldn’t be completed without it.  So that’s crap.  But, hey.. I’ve got internet unending at work.  So I shall finish today.

That’s really everything progressive from yesterday.  I mowed the backyard with my ailing mower, and although I’ll admit I have a large yard, mowing the damn thing took close to an hour and several restarts.  The mower has just seen better days.  I’m hoping I can sweet talk a certain high school teacher into bringing his mower over so I can mow the front yard before the rain moves in.

My only "anger with the ex" moment ever (.. so far) came the other day, when Bryan said she had asked him to mow her lawn.  Now, I am sleeping with the man, and cooking him food, and dealing with his children (scholarly children, not biological), and I have NEVER asked him to do something like that.  And he agreed!  The kicker?  "Well, it wasn’t so bad.. I sat the Boy up there with me and we rode it like a race car." 
I’m sorry.. she has a riding lawnmower?  And couldn’t handle it?!

Man, I am a helluva woman.

Funny line from the other night, when we finally caught "Commander in Chief" with Geena Davis..

Me: Oh!  I wonder who’s playing the president..?

Him: Maybe George W. Bush.  He’s been playing the president for years.

(Which is ironic, because the man voted for him.  And although he now fiercely regrets it, I plan to NEVER let him live it down.)

Glad the week is half over.  Ready to play.
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