Self-Indulgent Ramblings

I couldn’t come up with a costume this year. My heart just wasn’t in it. Until I came up with the perfect one…

I am wearing a Santa hat, carrying a Christmas mug and I hung Christmas lights on my pod.

I am a major retail store.

Ta da!

Take a look at this and see if you can tell what gives this email away as a complete hoax:

It’s not that it’s low quality. It’s not that I didn’t put my email address on my tax return. It’s not even the totally fake url when you “click here.”

It’s the suggestion that the government could ever process anything in 6-9 days.

I use the word ‘weird’ a lot in my posts. I think I need to expand my vocabulary.

Okay… this is so cool.

When I was a kid, I had to do a skit one year about The Seven Wonders of the Ancient World. We listed them in a parody of “Cold-Hearted Snake” by Paula Abdul sung by Felix the Cat-fish (all of the wonders were illustrated on the boxers he was wearing… ‘Wonder Unders,’ as it were). It was weird. We also had to propose some new wonders - we chose things like tofu and the fall of the Berlin Wall (yeah… we defined ‘wonder’ pretty loosely).

Anyway, today I stumbled upon this site… an initiative to name 7 new wonders of the world. 200 sites were nominated, they’ve been narrowed down to 21… and you can vote for your own 7 wonders… to be announced (when else?) 7-7-07. I’ll admit, I’m not that sold on some of the sites that made the short list, but overall, it’s just really neat to think of helping (in my own tiny way) to determine something so historic (and something that I currently remember to a tune by a pop diva). So cool!

Pregnant women all think that everyone else - especially women - care about every excruciating detail of their pregnancy. There’s a girl at work who’s having her first baby in December… and it is completely impossible to talk to her about anything other than the pregnancy. And I went shopping this weekend and heard the pregnant woman in front of me talking to the clerk about one another’s pregnancies. I guess my face must have registered something when they started talking about the baby dropping… because when I got up the clerk said that my face had done something when she said that, and did I have kids. I told her no, I did not have kids… and she proceeded to tell me all about labor and how it’s totally worth it and blah blah blah. I need to get a t-shirt… or a tattoo… that says, “I don’t have kids, I don’t want kids and I sure as hell don’t care about YOURS!” I don’t wander around demanding that everyone else listen to stories about my cat (of course, even if I did, it would never, ever include words like “contractions” or “mucus plug”). And I can only assume that it will get worse once the kid is actually here… but at least we have a three month break. I’m convinced that the purpose of maternity leave is not so much to allow the mom time to recover and take care of the baby so much as it is to give her coworkers a break from all the baby talk so that they don’t kill her.

Okay… this morning I was driving to work and, in front of me, there was a man in a golf cart. It was a particularly narrow street… and I’m pretty sure those things top out at around 15 MPH… so he was kind enough to scoot up onto the sidewalk and let me pass. I left him behind… only to be passed by him later as traffic backed up and he buzzed by in the bicycle lane. Weird. I passed him again once things got moving and I kept watching him in the rear view mirror. I was really disappointed when he turned off onto a side street. I was getting really invested in him - and I really wanted to know the destination. I made up a whole story for him. I decided he was some rich guy who had gotten a DUI and his license taken away, so he had to drive his golf cart to work. Of course, this is a small enough town that, as long as you live near downtown… that wouldn’t be too difficult to do. He looked so relaxed in his little golf cart - left foot propped up on the dash, leaning back as he creeps down the bicycle lane. It was weird.

And then I got to work and read an article about the fact that US companies are talking about closing down their China plants if China passes its new human rights legislation. Which just made me depressed.

Ya know what? I have hired an assistant. Yup. Me. We made the offer on Friday, she accepted it yesterday afternoon and I got the email this morning (since we were out yesterday for Columbus Day/It’s October And We Want A Day Off Day). Far too grown-up for me, if you ask me… not that you’re asking me.

And, of course, I had this big long conversation with my mom last night about decisions and trying to figure out what to do with my life and blah blah blah. My contract is up in August… which means I could audition for grad school again this year… but I have to start figuring that out before the end of November… which is coming quickly. And it would mean giving up the pay check to which I’ve become addicted. It would mean spending a lot of money in travel and application fees. It would mean opening myself to an awful lot of rejection (which I’m not sure I can take right now). It would mean leaving my theatre company. It would mean what for me and my {gulp} boyfriend who can’t move because of his {gulp} kids. I mean… it’s a big decision. And it’s one I’m not positive I’m ready to make right now. So… I guess I just keep on keepin’ on? I don’t know. I hate having to plan ahead.

You know… the word “random” is running rampant in society right now. I’m guilty. I use it as the all-purpose modifier. When I don’t feel like taking the time to come up with the word that actually means what I want to say… I just plug in “Random.”

Hmm.

Well… there ya go.

Okay… I haven’t written anything in a while… and I don’t really have anything to write about now. I mean, I’m busy… but not work busy… so I’m just trying to fill the time. I’m currently serving as “marketing consultant” for the professional theatre where I used to intern, which means a lot of writing press releases and website copy. It’s not too bad… it’s something I’m good at, and I’m glad to be able to help them out… but wouldn’t it be nice if I were being paid for any of that effort? {sigh}

I’m also directing a one-act play at said theatre. We started rehearsing two nights ago. The play is David Mamet’s Bobby Gould in Hell… it’s friggin’ hysterical. But it’s also a little intimidating for me. I’ve directed before, not a big deal. But one of the cast members is a friend of mine who is a director who I admire very much… and who I’m directing later this season in a one man show. I just don’t want to let him down. Ah, gotta love all that mentor anxiety.

The day after Bobby Gould in Hell closes, I start rehearsals for the Christmas show at the same theatre - directed by the same friend who I am currently directing. I haven’t read the script yet, but apparently I’m playing a pretty hefty role.

In the midst of all of this, my theatre company is finishing our first improv workshop series and preparing for our upcoming improv shows…

I’m excited to have all this theatre going on, but I’m also feelings really nervous about it. I’ve been too bored at work for too long. And I can feel the rumblings that precede a gigantic eruption of work. I’ve got all these commitments… I just hope I can manage to balance them all when work starts kicking my ass again. However… on that note… Friday afternoon I get to make a job offer to a young lady who is going to be my assistant at work.

What?

How the hell old am I to have an assistant??!?!?! That sounds far too grown up.

And then, of course, there is the {gulp} boyfriend. He’s still great… and I managed to get past wanting to kill him a couple of weeks ago. BUT… let me give any y chromosome who may stumble past this blog a couple of tips:

• Do not, when talking about your incredibly hot ex-girlfriend, try to make things better by saying, “I think you’re pretty too.”

• Do not tell someone you want to sleep with that night that she is “prudish” and that you’ve been more prudish since you’ve been around her.

• Do not, when your girlfriend has had a rather unpleasant and painful medical procedure, call her that night and say, “I was planning on coming over, but I’m just beat.”

• Do not, when your girlfriend proclaims that she’s finally in a good mood, congratulate yourself on not having brought up the bad mood. Do you think you might have done something to cause it?

My {gulp} boyfriend is older than me… and he likes to pride himself on the wisdom he has gained in his years - how there are so many stupid things he might have said when he was 27, but that now, he is far too wise to misspeak like that. And then he says crap like the stuff above… and I have to kill him. I love him, I’m over the above crap, but sometimes I just have to kill him.

Turns out, it doesn’t matter how old you are… boys are always stupid.

Gee… I guess I managed to find something to write about after all.