Archive | July, 2008

Remember when I used to post organized thoughts?

Alright.  Promised you a post.  Mmm.  Well..

First and foremost, I got a new toy.  DUDE, LEMME BE ALL POCKET-PROTECTORY FOR A MINUTE AND GUSH ABOUT HOW COOL THIS FRACKIN’ THING IS!  Seriously, it’s addicting.  It’s made the long and torturous tech week go by so much faster, to sit and play with this gadget.  Yes, I got the white one.  Yes, Bryan did too.  No, we have not yet coordinated our phone to read eachother’s GPS location at any given time.  Yes, that FREAKS ME OUT.

That same day of the fateful purchase (cue: angel choir), we got the dreaded day care phone call.  Our child was projectile vomiting.  With green gunk coming out of his eyes.  And, oh, yes, he might be channeling Satan. (“Well, is his head spinning around?  Cause that’s my threshold of things that will make me leave the Apple store willingly.”) Bryan toted him to the doctor the next day, where I met and did the appointment.  Pink eye?  Not likely, but we got some topical ointment anyway.  The next day, the truth revealed itself (although Bryan and I both knew it earlier and were afeard to mention it): EAR INFECTION.  So we hastily got an antibiotic and the child is now happy and bouncy again.

Guess who is sick now?  Oh, that would be EVERYONE ELSE IN THE HOUSE.

It’s like the plague around here.  If the “Bring Out Yer Dead” guy came around, we’d probably contribute.  And, of course, we open a show tomorrow night.

(Odd story: I was chatting with one of my friends who now resides in NYC last night [on my flippin’ cool iPhone!] and I was venting about how much I hate Rent.  I said, “The music is fine, but the plot is too whiny.  Just pay the damn rent.  This whole ‘fighting the establishment’ crap pisses my work ass off.”

His response: “Well, enjoy your house and your marriage and your child, but the rest of us are going to keep fighting.”

My response: “Oops, needed onstage.  Walking in the wings now.  Talk to you later.”

Because THAT’S why I hate Rent.  Do theatre.  Love it.  Live it.  But pay the damn rent!)

That was entirely too long for parantheicals, and for that, I apologize.

I have demanded that Bryan and I take a vacation over Labor Day.  We have not decided where, but we are definitely open to suggestion.  All I know is that I need to breathe new air for at least two days, and possibly inhale some good food while I’m at it.  So, let’s say that we’re wanting to stay within the three hour drive window.. where would you suggest we go?

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Light Reading

I know, I know.  I owe you, like, a whopper-bazillion posts.  Remember those good ole days, when I could write two or three times a day?  Remember?  Let’s all take a moment and sigh collectively, shall we?


That was nice.  Thanks for doing that.

Anyway, post forthcoming.  Promise.  I am sick as a dog and am heading in to work anyway.  Because life sucks.  Well, hell.  Now I’ve spoiled my post fodder!

In the meantime, I thought I would incense all of you the way I was incensed.  I’m linking to a well-written response to the original article, because I WILL NOT LINK to the original.  “Lactating cow,” my ass.

Till then, my lovelies.

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SYTYCD: Dance of the Week

Last night, Zoot asked me who went home this week on SYTYCD. I had to shamefully admit that I had not seen this week’s show or results. Because I haven’t had time. BECAUSE MY PRIORITIES ARE NOT RIGHT WITH THE WORLD.

So, of course, this morning, I plopped Binja down where he could dance, and I had to share this with you. Mia Michaels, whom I think had truly blossomed over the four seasons of this show, choreographed the official dance that I like to call, “Crazy Brunette Mating Call”.


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Magic Bullets. Heh.

Some random things.

  • Today, I was in a meeting and the tone announced that someone was joining the call-in number. As always, we inquired who had just joined us, and it was some guy named General Stafford. I was nonplussed, being fairly new to the program, but the shocked eyes and dropped jaws gave me pause. General Tom Stafford, they said. Maybe you know him as Major Tom. As in, ground control to major tom. As in, the first man to orbit the moon on Apollo 10. CALLING TO CONGRATULATE OUR TEAM FOR OUR PHENOMENAL WORK THUS FAR. Um, can we say COOL? I think we can.
  • On the flipside to that coin, I had a two hour “discussion” with a “teammate” over font size yesterday. All of the quotes there should let you in that I could only cram more sarcasm in there if I SuperSized it. What had happened was.. we use a form to do a process. A Word document. No fancy-schmancy database, no Access program, nothing. Word. 2005, if we want to get all hoidy-toidy about it. Not even Office 2007. So I changed the font on the document to make it easier on the eyes. And they said they couldn’t accept it. THE FONT SIZE = NOT IMPORTANT. I was thisclose to scraping my eyeballs out with a dull spoon.
  • Why I do community theatre? So when I have to haul my baby to rehearsals, he gets TONS of one-on-one time with everyone in the room. People LOVE to play with him, rock him, walk him around, and he’s also just content to park in a corner of the room and watch the rehearsal. It’s wonderful to know he’s so loved. How many times can I say “it takes a village”? Oh, I think I can say it many more times, thank you so much for asking.
  • A friend of ours works in the labor/delivery unit of a local hospital and comes away with the most amazing stories. She was holding Binja the other night and, while examining his foot, said a baby had been born that day whose foot lay flat against his shin. I was all, that’s how HIS foot was too, and look how much better it’s gotten! She said she thought about calling us, because the mother was so distraught about the foot deformation that she didn’t want to see the baby. And I was so, so, sad for her. She eventually relaxed and wanted to see the baby, though, but MY GOD. I just wanted to hug her from where I was. I know how badly that sucks. I know it. And it does suck.
  • I needed dinner tonight SO BADLY. It’s wonderful to just kick back with a bunch of friends and let the kids play. And drink. Well, WE did the drinking and the kids did the playing. Well, so some of us did more drinking than others. And Edgar was loved by all.
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Pillow Talk

Bryan: And I remember the first time I saw you onstage. It was in that show, the one you don’t ever talk about, and you had such an amazing presence on stage.

Me: You’re just saying that because you’re sleeping with me.

Bryan: NO. Seriously, you owned the stage the minute you set foot on it. You were amazing. And you were what made me think, “Thank God; there IS talent in this town.”

Me: Aww.. honey, that is so sweet. And THAT is why I married you.

Bryan: I thought it was for my schlong.

Me: ..

Bryan: And the fact that I refer to it as “my schlong”.

Me: ..

Bryan: Or my “que pasa”.

Me: Keilbasa?

Bryan: How YOU doin?

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