Tag Archives: HRC

Things That Make Sense [Possibly Only] To Me

5 May

Wicked busy day at work…pushing $122,000 in new orders and bookings that had my butt stuck to my swivel chair for the full eight hours. 

…Decided to counter this with a 4 mile walk through partial spit and sunshine by the waterfront, directly after errands run of bank and script pick up.

…Then I peed.

…Checked my texts which had accumulated throughout the day, totally ignored…(due to reasons they pay me for)…and I saw a set from Puff:

Puff: “Awesome news…I will be up for Pride through 4th of July…!”

…JOY!!! Because, now that am camped in HRC with the Seattle kids…AND signed up for the huge-as-fuck event committees LIKE Pride…I was only the other day saying how kick-ass it would be if he were here for my first one, and I was there for his (in Seattle), cuz (without being a giant cock-block), we could hang some, and have times of awesome with him and his boys (whom I love), ‘tween my booth tending, button passing, and picture taking.

TIMES of AWESOME will be had. Indeed.

…Came home next, to find a gigantic box on my doorstep, weighing approximately half a pound.  After perusing labels which told me nothing, finally came to my senses and just ripped the thing open.  Arms waded through a sea of crumpled newspapers, reaching deep into the box’s guts to fish out: a giant globe on stand, and a card from an antique store in New Orleans.

…Texted The BFF, directly: “I presume was you who bought me the world…”

…The BFF texted back: “…It is your oyster after all.”

(This is why she is The BFF…reason # 562.)

…Wandered about house, attempting to find the perfect place for the world…and I found it: On top of record player by the complete Sherlock and choicest Du Mauriers.

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…Winning. Or rather, “won.” “Winning” sounds better. I will just move everything into the present tense now. Because.

…Go about opening new script (role secured only just last night), and begin to peruse the merchandise. She’s good, the playwright. A local. Commence to take notes, pull up dialect and start working for a good ol’ Louisiana drawl…mid-texting The BFF, who is well into the religious ceremony of Margarita drinking that is: Cinco de Mayo.

…I say I’m too lazy to go to the trouble of “all that mixing,” so offer chilled champagne, (still sitting in the fridge from my woeful birthday), or a warm scotch, as substitute.

The BFF says, ” Definitely champagne. But maybe I’m biased. It’s 80 degrees here.”

I respond: “I think it’s still wise here at 60-something. Cuz I mean..it’s champagne…”

We agree she is right. This almost never happens. She (presumably) goes to mix another ‘Rita…I grab a bar towel, and pop the cork.

…I study some more…

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…Mid-study I try to gauge the distinct difference between Creole, Cajun and general Louisianian dialects. Dunno which I’m suppose to use, so decide to learn all three.

…The Champagne goes largely untouched for some period of time, as I work. Then, as I fold up the script for now, I suddenly remember it.

Veuve Clicquot it ain’t, but it itches the scratch when yuh got it.

…I decide this would be an excellent marketing line, and I am totally in the wrong profession.

…I pour out some more.

…I drink it.

…I see the lap top sitting over there on the couch arm, plugged in and getting juiced.

…I decide maybe I should blog some. Then I can say I did a little study, a little writing, and a little walking with my evening…not just, “laid on the couch like a whore, swilling champagne and watching Burn Notice specials. Again.”

…Although, whatever sounds so bad about that, I’ll never know.

…You’d have to ask a non-actor civilian.

~D

Bipolar Weather & Causes For Affect

2 Apr

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Our spring here can’t seem to make up it’s mind what the hell is going on. 

…It’s confusing the hell out of the blooming plant life that I’ve been taking walks past, while either in bluster winds on a sunny day or in pissing down rain.  One doesn’t let rain stop you from doing things here, else you’d never get anything done…but the point is: it’s sunny for five seconds today and was yesterday too, and both are cock teases.

Yesterday was down for the count thanks to a particularly suicidal Joan Crawford visit beginning at 4 a.m., with alllllll her bag of upset tummy-curling-into-a-ball-while-crying awesomeness.  The only up side was doing month-end from my laptop in bed…at 5:30 in the morning…only cuz it meant that when I finally DID fall back asleep, I could tell the alarm to go fuck itself, take another fist full of pain meds, roll over, and drift back to sleep again. Fitfully.

…Today’s repercussion of paperwork, and the forest of trees waiting to slaughter, has kept me too busy to even look out the window until about five minutes ago.  Roughly about the time I realized I hadn’t so much as gone pee yet, I’d been so busy today.

…Anyway…a bank of clouds is ominously starting this way, blowing north-bound, and bringing shadows in it’s wake since my first look out the window for the day.  This means that by 4, It’ll be dark clouds and cold with zero vitamin D’s left for me to soak up.  And rain, rain, rain projected for days now to follow.

Of course.

In Other News: I did survive the detox-from-hell…celebrating at midnight on the 21st day, with some 16 year-old Redbreast whiskey…which was the most decedent thing from my bar.  A fitting “fuck you” to the odds and celebration of WINNING!

…So now onto the six days on, one day off, trend until the rest of the weight is dumped. And may I never so over-indulge as to have to go through that whole nonsense ever, ever again.

I’d ONLY wish it on my worst enemy.  Really.  Not even a Nagging Irritant deserves to go through something like that, on purpose.

Meanwhile…

…We are three days to tech week, in a show which the jury will prob’ly still be out on till the second we open, or possibly even after.

…The Gnome has reached 13 weeks, and 20 lbs of weight gain…so she no longer looks like a starving waif-child who could blow away in a stiff wind…she looks like a waif child who swallowed a softball, and might bounce along instead.

…WHS Pimp has fucked up his back so badly, the MRI techs are talking a fusing…which he’s taken fairly well considering he won’t be able to tie his own shoes anymore and he’s only 33…but apparently that’s what kids are for, anyway…he says.

…And…after a couple weeks of deliberation, I decided to join my first organized group since brownies and the theatre. Mama be kickin’ it now with the HRC…only not just passively. I’m actually volunteering to do things and stuff. Which’ll be weird. Cuz I’m socially awkward as fuck and super shy. But, this comes from reflections, via lots of sources, telling me if I want the world to be a better place for a lot of my favorite humans, (and the rest of us), I gotta put my actions where my mouth is. So I’m gonna. By and large, politics piss me the hell off, but equality ain’t a policy it’s a right, and that I can get behind. So, P.S. prob’ly expect to hear about those shenanigans here, too.

…And so goes life.

Hope you find your second of sun and play and joy on this spring day. Go chase it down if you have to. Cuz I’m gonna. Just as soon as I can hit the freeway 🙂

~D

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