Fight

Wow. I have not blogged in a LONG time. I fear that any small readership I may have accumulated will have completely disappeared. Somehow I'm going to have to internet-whore myself out again. Damn. Anyway, I have reasonable excuses to justify my blogging absence. First of all, I've been quite enfolded in a torrid love affair with my Awesome Boyfriend (henceforth referred to as AB). Additionally, I've been swamped with work for grad school (I vaguely recall having made some absurd plan to not procrastinate...what rubbish), I have a huge job interview today, I have a new show opening this weekend and have been attempting to learn lines for that. Ok wait, in the interest of full disclosure, I should tell you that the last part is a lie. I do have a new show opening on Saturday, but I have yet to even LOOK at my lines. But still. I've been busy!

So I have many things to blog about, not the least of which being a fantastical, magical trip to a mythical land called Atlantic City with AB last weekend, but that's going to have to wait. Maybe tomorrow. For now, I need to share with you the Valentine's Day Ultimate Fighting Championship-worthy brawl that AB and I had ringside seats for on Saturday.

We decided to take in the Fulton's production of Agatha Christie's An Unexpected Guest on Valentine's Day. We were sitting in the first row of the mezzanine, and approximately six seats down from us was a lovely, distinguished couple. The man was big, white, and had a long ponytail, some kind of haphazard facial hair statement, a "sweater" relic circa 1984, and ultratight jeans. The woman was African-American, wearing a halter dress that was falling off of her, and could barely keep her head out of her lap. Throughout the first act, they proceeded to yell to each other (and the actors on stage), take pictures with their cell phones, and engage in all kinds of other extremely loud shenanigans. The people surrounding us became more and more disgruntled, and starting shuffling in their seats like yuppie people do when they're disgruntled but don't know how to deal with it. I was getting a kick out of it though, honestly. It was like I was getting two shows for the price of one. At one point, AB leaned over and whispered, "I have absolutely no idea what's going on in this play because what's going on over there is so much more entertaining."

An educated guess would be that these two patrons were flying like paper and getting high like planes. Intermission came. Apparently (this has not been confirmed, and none of us heard anything like this) another gentleman came up to the couple and said something to the effect of, "You need to keep your monkey quiet." Suddenly, Ponytail Man started screaming, "F*ck you, you c*cksucker, I'm going to f*cking kill you!" Please be reminded that we were at the Fulton Opera House. It was like in old movies where there's a record playing, and it screeches to a halt. Everyone just stood in their seats, mouths agape. Ponytail man rushed after this man, jumped on top of him, and started beating the living bejeezus out of him. I don't know what bejeezus is, but it is not something I would like to have beaten out of me. I'd like to keep my bejeezus, thanks. Several other men rushed into the brawl (AB included, because he's big and strong...duh) and pulled Ponytail Man off of the insulter. Ponytail Man then fell down the stairs, still screaming death threats and other incoherent nonsense.

AB and I decided that we'd rather finish our evening by going out drinking than sitting through the second half of the play. The play was mind bogglingly inane, by the way. The only fun part would be to try to come up with other, dirtier things to refer to as "the unexpected guest." I'll let you use your imagination.

Observations and Lessons Learned:
1. Racial slurs are not funny or acceptable, but coked out crazy people are both funny AND acceptable.
2. Only go see boring plays if you think there might be a fight. If you don't see one brewing, it is a good idea to start one.
3. The cure for any kind of drama is a martini.
4. People should only try to do Irish accents (or accents of any kind) on stage (or elsewhere, really) if they are positive that they know how to do said accent.

xoxo

Goldfish

So Wednesday was a snow day. One of the oh-so-lovely perks of working for a college is that every so often, we get a pinch of snow, people lose their minds, and the campus closes down. Wednesday was one of those days.

I was very content for most of the day. I went to the gym, did some good solid sleeping, went to the mall...but by around 6:00 p.m. I found myself bored completely senseless. I realized quickly that I was in a crisis situation. Lost didn't start until 9:00...so I had three hours in which to occupy my ever wandering brain. The first hour found me donning a bright green mint julep mud mask, wearing frilly new underwear, a matching bra, red high heels, and putting on a Madonna concert for...well, potentially my neighbors. I prefer to think that it was only for my stuffed dog, Bagel. Also, being incredibly vain and incredibly bored, I snapped some pictures of this. They are not posted here.

I exhausted myself pretty quickly, and decided on a whim that what I really needed to make my life whole and complete would be a goldfish. So I put on clothes (although my previous attire might have been more entertaining) and went to the store and returned an hour later (and minus $60--goldfish/goldfish accessories are apparently expensive) with a little aquarium, some decorations, distilled water, and the two most adorable little fishies you can possibly imagine! In fact, you don't have to imagine them, because I'm including pictures. Their names are Titania and Oberon. Bonus points for you if you can catch that reference. Oh. I also bought Valentine's Day candy corn, because candy corn makes my mouth quiver with happiness.

So the moral of this story is that I love my fish! Their Auntie Christine wants to buy them teeny tiny little Gucci sunglasses so that maybe they'll be more photogenic. Also, it turns out that my facebook friends are more interested in my goldfish acquisition than just about anything else in my life.

The end.

"Sara, I want to go out, meet lots of boys, make out with many of them, have them tell me how beautiful and wonderful I am, make them want me, and then have them put their penis inside of me because that is the best way to show me just how much they want me."
~An entirely unrelated/incredibly amusing quote of the day by Franny.

I love my friends. I need to start quoting them more often.

NYC

So...I heart NY as much as the next girl. I've made lots of bold proclamations about how much I want to live there, and how I feel like I'd thrive culturally and creatively in such a diverse and wonderful place. I got to spend the weekend there for school this weekend, and got to spend my days in a corner conference room of the Flatiron Building (so cool,) and also got to learn some rough lessons at New York's School of Hard Knocks...for Sara.

How NYC Schooled Me Like a 3rd Grade Bitch
1. NY is expensive. Everyone knows this...it's like the most expensive place in the country. However, I've learned over the past few years that I kind of LIKE the financial stability and comfort I've been able to create for myself. I spent the weekend worrying about money, and I hate worrying about money. I hate worrying about anything. Worry is lame. But I blew approximately $120 in transportation, food, tolls, etc. and have NOTHING to show for it. Do you know how many Dior Diorshow Blackout mascaras I could have gotten for that? You probably don't. It's 4.
2. Walking 20 blocks in 10 degree weather might be common practice for New Yorkers, but I don't like it. My face froze. When I finally got to where my friends were, I was NOT a happy camper. See attached picture. Before my fingertips and vocal chords froze to the point of nonuse, I called my mother, screeching "I hate New York!" I don't. But still.
3. Tara Herweg is a master of cartography the likes of which this world has never seen. She's a genius. However, even with her amazing directions (that I clutched in my hand like Lindsay Lohan clutches at her career) I discovered that I hate the subway. I hate the bus. There are many letters (R Train, L Train...) and many numbers (and we all know that I disagree with numbers on principle) and it smells bad, and people stare at you, I have to stand up a lot, I have to pay attention to things (I'm terrible at paying attention) and it still takes you like an hour to get from Queens to Manhattan. I've obviously used the subway before, but not as much as this weekend.
4. So I go to NY a lot. I would guesstimate that I've been there upwards of 100 times...because in college I thought that a credit card meant that I could afford anything, so I went like once or twice a month. But I go to MANHATTAN a lot. The borough is sort of frightening.
5. I actually did learn a lot at school. They were long days, but we made good use of our time. Just wanted to throw that in. I also learned, having nothing to do with NY, that I am going to have figure out a better system of time management than the one I used last semester. I have 50 pages of original work to write toward my thesis, a 20 page craft paper to research and write, 6 critical essays to do, and approximately 12 books to read this semester. Waiting until the night before they're due and then giving myself a near stroke trying to finish them just won't do!

In short, I obviously still think NYC is amazing. There is no place on earth that can feed your artistic hunger like New York. However...the New York I love is the one where I get to be the Princess of Manhattan, can afford to take a cab everywhere, live in a posh Upper East Side apartment with a doorman, go see Broadway shows every weekend, shop at Neiman Marcus in order to acquire the cutest outfit in which to prace about the newest club openings, and actually get to experience the city. In short, I learned that I'm a spoiled brat and that I'm kind of ok with that.

Oh. And I love Dave, even if he can't take a self portrait picture to save his life. And Tara, who is just awesome.

p.s. Go see Slumdog Millionaire. Immediately. I'm so serious, it's an astonishing film. And I don't astonish easily.

Starfish

I just have one thing to say. And because I'm not entirely sure who all reads this blog, I feel like I need to be cryptic and slightly vague so as not to be offensive or vulgar!

So I love starfish, and not JUST because of the reason you think! They're beautiful little creatures, and there's a really good story about them. I'm going to include that at the end of this little blogular adventure. ANYWAY. Starfish rule. My point? It turns out that there are some things that rule even more than starfish. I'm just saying. It's an astounding and shocking discovery every single time!

The Starfish story, which is completely and utterly unrelated to this blog, but is inextricably linked to many of my personal philosophies:

A well known author and poet was working and vacationing on the southern coast of Spain. One early morning, he was walking along the beach - the sun was rising, the rain had ended, the rainbows were magnificent, the sea was calm. While enjoying the beauty around him, he glanced down the beach and saw a lone figure dancing about. Fascinated by this person celebrating the new day, he moved closer. As he drew nearer, he realized that the person was not dancing, but in one graceful motion was picking up objects from the beach and tossing them into the sea. He approached the young man and saw the objects were starfish. "Why in the world are you throwing starfish into the water?" "If the starfish stay on the beach, when the tide goes out and the sun rises higher, they will die," replied the young man as he continued tossing them out to sea. "That's ridiculous! There are thousands of miles of beach and millions of starfish. You can't really believe that what you are doing can possibly make a difference!" The young man picked up another starfish, and tossing it into the waves, said, "It makes a difference to this one."

Change

Welcome 2009! Lovely to see you! 2008 was kind of a giant cunt (yes...I said it...I said cunt in my blog. There's no going back from here...) and so far you look absolutely breathtaking...have you had some work done?

I've decided that 2009 needs to be The Year of Change. It NEEDS to be. I really don't have a choice. I do an excellent job at treading water (I know that's a metaphor, but I really do tread water well...when I was teaching swimming lessons, I'd have to tread water AND hold large children afloat for about 2.5 hours a night) but that won't cut it anymore. I spend so much time worrying about my life, my future, if I'm making the right choices that I become almost paralyzed by indecision. I get so worried about making wrong choices that I fail to make any. And that's not the kind of person I want to be.

And so the following is a list. Because those of you who know me know that I live and die by lists. At any given moment I have approximately 294857392 lists somewhere in my house or office. However, what I am about to write are not resolutions...more like gentle nudges, reminders, and suggestions for when I start to falter a bit. This might get to be a long blog. Now would be a great time to grab a snack. Or an adult beverage. I recommend Swedish Fish and Ketel One + pineapple. Mmmm...

1. Health. So 2008 was the year of the near-death medical malady. And while most of what happened was completely out of my control, there are some things that I need to get UNDER control in order to ensure that I stay relatively healthy this year. We don't need to go into detail. But if I intend on making anything happen this year, I can't keep doing what I'm doing.
2. I started grad school this year, which was a great decision. However, I have become the Princess of Procrastination since then, which is not good. I wait until the last possible moment to get things done, and then make myself crazy for a few days, and then I don't think about it again until my next deadline. If I'm serious about writing, which I am...I need to focus better on it. My manuscript really needs to take some kind of shape over the next year if I ever want to get anything done with it.
3. Ironically, one of my co-workers came in this morning, and we were talking about our jobs. She said to me, "You're just meant for so much MORE than this...you don't want to get stuck here." It's true. I need to find some balance between safety (because realistically now is not the time economically to be jumping ship into some unstable job market) and happiness. I think a lot of times we don't know what's going to make us happy until we find it...but I need to pay more attention to those signs. I think school is going to help a lot with that. But in the meantime, I need to make some kind of a change.
4. I love my friends. I need to remember to tell and show them how much I appreciate and love them. The same thing goes for my family.
5. My brain is a little jumbled right now. Most of it is just because I've let it get to the point where I worry all day about absolutely everything. I've become much more critical, and that's not like me. This is probably the most important thing I need to do this year...organize my silly little brain! I need to not worry so much about what could or might happen, and focus more on all the great things that ARE happening. My heart is actually a really smart little organ. I should try to trust her more.

I think that's about it! I'm sure there's more I can do, and the biggest part of it is to not be afraid of change. Change is good, it's necessary, and wonderful things happen because of it. I blogged about that before! And 2008...I apologize for calling you a cunt earlier. I learned a lot of things from you, and those are lessons I'll be able to keep for many years. Until I wake up one morning 70 years from now suffering from dementia and can't remember where my own toes are...but until then, thanks. I'll be blogging tomorrow (or the next day) about the things I learned I think. That ought to be enlightening. And some nice things happened in 2008...nothing's ever all bad.

Fun pictures, right? I had a rockin' New Year's Eve. Like Dick Clark style but BETTER.

Dove

I keep meaning to publish a post having to do with 2009, my resoultions, the awesome New Year's Eve I had...you know. The standard "Suck it 2008/How YOU doin 2009" blog post that people need to do. However, when presented with the task of actually WRITING said blog post, I feel all kinds of pressure (from myself and my own crazy head) to make it perfect. Like somehow this blog has taken the form of two stone tablets on Mount Sinai, and if I post a resolution here and break it I might be cast into hell forever. Soooo...that'll happen eventually!

Meanwhile, feast your juicy little eyeballs on THESE videos. I'm a big supporter of Dove in general, and these videos speak volumes. So if you're wandering aimlessly around the store and trying to decide between Dove and Secret deodorant, or Dove and Caress body wash (I prefer Victoria's Secret for that, but whatever) perhaps these might encourage you to purchase from a company that's trying to change things up a little bit in our media...before too many little girls become victims, and we lose an entire generation to eating disorders, plastic surgery, masochism, pain, and "perfection."

Nanny

Awhile ago I posted a blog about a Renaissance Festival that I did at a nursing home in Harrisburg. To better understand this, you might want to click here and read it.

In any case, my grandfather passed away today. To be clear, he wasn't my biological grandfather. But he married my Nanny 40 years ago, so he's been there since long before I was born. We've known for a few days that this was going to happen, so it's sad...but not out of the blue. The worst part is my Nanny...my grandfather went into the hospital to have surgery six weeks ago...and so she went into an assisted living place until the surgery was over. It was just supposed to be a short visit. And now she'll never be able to go home again. He was the one who took care of her.

I can't understand what that must feel like. My parents have taken her to see him in the hospital over the past few weeks, and she just sat there holding his hand and crying, telling him how she cries herself to sleep every night. Honestly, I think that one of my personality traits that has always been my strongest asset and also my biggest curse is my feeling of empathy. I spend all my time wondering what other people must be thinking or feeling, and while I don't understand a lot of things in life (math, politics, how to work the Blackberry Storm) I really do understand people. It's why I just can't bring myself to say the mean things I sometimes think about people, because then I'd spend the next two weeks imagining how it must have hurt them.

And so now I'm just trying to imagine what it must be like...to be 80 years old, having spent your whole life creating this world for yourself, only to have it ripped out from underneath you in a matter of days. She must be terrified. And it reminds me that especially now that she'll be living somewhere completely new and foreign to her, that I need to visit her more than I do. I need to send her more cards. When I was in the hospital for two months in college, I got a card or package from her literally EVERY day that I was there.

If you still have your grandparents, go spend time with them. I know how freaked out I get about growing older...turning 30 and having the world ahead of me is scary. It doesn't even compare to turning 80 and having know idea what's ahead. But if you love people, tell them. If you miss people, visit them. When it really comes down to it, all we have is each other.

xoxo

Fishes

The Boy and I went to the Baltimore National Aquarium yesterday. I was so excited. I mean seriously friends, it doesn't take much. I was bouncing in the passenger seat of his car on the way there. Literally. I love the aquarium! I love fish, water, all of it. I've been drawn to water ever since I was little, and I'm always happier when I'm near it. I feel like I should get a fish and a fun little tank for my apartment, but I've never had great luck with that. But really, I'm 28 now. One would hope I could keep a small fish or two alive. I digress. As always.

But I had so much fun! We saw many turtles, and dolphins, and sharks, and sting rays. I learned new fun facts that I can spout off at inappropriate times. Like that a 6 foot electric eel can give off up to 800 volts of electricity...enough to stun a man. I know I'd be stunned. I know Buttercup was almost stunned when she jumped out of Vizzini's ship...good thing Fezzik was there to scoop her up. After all, he only dog paddles. Again, I digress. I need to try to stop that!

I don't really have anything prolific to say about the aquarium adventure except that I was so happy we went! And that I want to get a fish. Probably two fish. I'd hate for anyone to be lonely. I'd also like to mention that I am about to explode with excitement about Christmas and New Year's this year. 2008 was kind of a raging bitch, and I'm happy to see her depart. 2009 is shaping up to kick some serious ass.

xoxo

Winter

Dear Winter,

So, we meet again. I rather thought that after the stern talking-to I gave you last year about your arrival that you would be too much of a pussy to come back. But noooo...not you. You just prance into my life without a care in the world, with your bitter wind and cold temperatures and ugly snow. Some people might be fooled by the snow part, but I'm on to you. After a treacherous drive to MD this past weekend, amidst your frigid conditions and accident upon accident, I'm wise to your schemes. However, I'd like to thank my mother for her minute-by-minute weather updates (we should all stop mocking her for her Weather Channel addiction) and The Boy for rescuing me from a K-Mart parking lot and claiming that my paralyzing snow fear was "sweet" and not "completely retarded."

So, Winter, game on. Bring it. I dare you. I don't think you're at all aware that I don't plan to be in your clutches again next year if you dont back the f off this year. And you underestimate how adorable I look in hats. It looks as though you and I are going to be at odds yet again. I plan to write a strongly worded letter to your supervisor about this.

Just TRY to fight me when I'm in West Palm Beach. Just try! You should go back to your home on Whore Island.

Bitch.

Love always,
Sara

Tudors

I'd like to thank Showtime DVDs for my latest history lesson. I started watching The Tudors about three weeks ago. I was astounded by all of the things that I didn't know about European history, as well as how similar I am to some major historical figures.


Things I didn't know:
1. Since the internet had not yet been invented, people filled their time by having sex. Lots of sex. All the time. With everyone. Everywhere.
2. Kings love to yell. They also love to tell people that they are the king. In case the crown didn't give it away.
3. King Henry VIII had some seriously hot friends. Why didn't I learn about Charles Brandon in my history class? I bet I would have paid attention instead of passing notes.
4. Women clearly don't wear undergarments of any kind. This made #1 significantly easier. Kings, on the other hand, apparently wore boxers.
5. What to do if you're being plowed from behind by Hottie McHotpants and your angry father walks in? Keep plowing, bitch.
6. Even back then, the gays were much more romantic and fabulous than the straights.
7. The Tudors loved foreshadowing. Example: Henry dancing with Anne, says "I love your neck." HA!
8. Anne Boleyn was really good at holding out. However, throw her on a horse, take her into the woods, throw her up against a tree, and her resolve is GONE. Can't say I blame her.
9. Religious people are very, very tricky. They speak many languages, they lie a lot, and they love wearing red. They too enjoy the sex.
10. If you don't like your husband, the best thing to do is to smother him. Then jump on a ship with a way hotter guy.

Rules

"Let's go over the ground rules. Rule number one--no touching of the hair or face. AND THAT'S IT!"
~ Ron Burgandy

So I spent a lovely part of the weekend visiting The Boy. We decided to go on a little cinematic adventure, and take in the movie Role Models. Since the fancy theatre in town had absolutely absurd showing times, we decided to go to a slightly more ghettofied movie theatre in a local mall. As we entered the mall, I noticed a list of rules. I was intrigued. A mall with rules? Genius! I insisted that we stop and review them.

1. No hood wearing
2. No hanging out
3. No one 16 and under allowed without a parent or guardian 21 or older
4. No skateboarding healies or bike riding on mall property
5. No bad language
6. Please keep your cell phones/iPods very low
7. Pants are to be worn around the waist

I don't think I need to explain to anyone who knows me how brutally amused I was by this list. I basically almost peed my pants laughing. I could write a whole separate blog analyzing and mocking these rules...and I might at a later time. No hanging out??? It's a mall! Who enforces these rules? Little nuns with rulers scurrying around and smacking the fingers of perpetrators who might be "hanging out?" And since when do iPods make noise that other people can hear? I digress. I did, however, insist on having my picture taken with the rules.



I also realized that if this little skanky mall can have a list of rules at their entrances, I should probably have my own list of seven important rules for my own house. I can post them on my door, that way people know what they're getting into before they come over. I might even hire a nun to be my bouncer. I've put some thought into this, and here's what I've come up with so far. These are subject to change at my discretion at any time. I also do not feel the need to explain or justify any of these rules.

1. No Payless shoe wearing.
2. No poor grammar or making up your own words. Making up words is only acceptable if the aforementioned words are witty and/or make the majority of the people in the house laugh.
3. Please bring presents. If you do not have a present, please be prepared with a hilarious joke.
4. Shirts, shoes, pants, underpants, and socks are all optional. Deodorant is not.
5. Singing and/or instrument playing is encouraged.
6. No yelling or whip cracking. This is especially important at parties where I might get evicted. Oh...a note on the whip cracking. Whip cracking INDOORS is perfectly acceptable under controlled circumstances.
7. No spending copious amounts of time on the phone and/or text messaging with someone who is not present. This is especially true if said person is a douchebag.

Yay.

xoxo

Stardust

"A philosopher once asked, 'Are we human because we gaze at the stars, or do we gaze at them because we're human?' Pointless, really. 'Do the stars gaze back?' Now THAT'S a question..."
Stardust

How is it that I'm just NOW hearing about the movie Stardust? I took today off from work, and upon going shopping, going to the gym, and other general frivolity, I decided to watch this movie, which I hadn't really heard of before. I'm not going to lie...Michelle Pfeiffer, Claire Danes, Ian McKellan, Robert DeNiro, Ricky Gervais, funny ghosts who remind me a whole lot of the old guys in The Muppets, unicorns, green fire, magic, stars (and dust, apparently)...it's not really a brilliant script, but I am thoroughly entertained. Just needed to throw that out there. I'd also like to say that as much as I love the stars, I'm really glad that I'm not one. If I were to start glowing every time I got happy about something, there would be a serious problem. I bet it would be pretty though!

Earnest

"I never change. Except in my affections."
Gwendolen, The Importance of Being Earnest

The wonderful Lauren Rees, Nick Hughes, and ME as Cecily, Chausuble, and Gwen. I love Victorian people in front of televisions.


This weekend, I learned that Oyster Mill Playhouse in Camp Hill is putting up The Importance of Being Earnest, possibly my favorite play ever written. A few years ago, I had the opportunity to play Gwendolen, and it was possibly one of the most amazing productions I'd ever been in. Fantastic cast, amazing director, just an all around wonderful experience. So, when I heard that Oyster Mill was doing it, I threw reason aside and ran up to audition on a whim.

Callbacks were last night, and I wasn't able to attend. I had to work, and honestly the more I thought about it, the more I realized that it might not be my wisest plan to do that show again. I was so lucky to have such a phenomenal time with it the first time around. And I relatively recently had the unfortunate experience of seeing a fairly wretched production of it (a few key elements aside) and all I could remember thinking was, "Dear God, thank you for giving me MY Earnest, and not this stage-dwelling disaster." Not that the entire production completely blew. I was just jaded. Additionally, this theatre is in Harrisburg, and with work, school, and life (you know...my friends, boys, parties, other shows I want to do, murder mysteries, and that great game with the spinny thing in the middle) I'm not 100% sure I could commit the time. In any case, I didn't make it to callbacks.

Around 10:00 p.m. last night, the director called me to offer me the role of Gwendolen...which is exactly what I'd wanted. How did I swing that without even going to callbacks? Was I THAT good? Or was everyone else THAT bad? So now I'm not sure what to do. I seriously don't think I have the time to commit to it...but I love the show. I also don't know anything about Oyster Mill. So I'm torn. I would appreciate advice and/or thoughts on this matter!

And just another quick jaunt down memory lane...here's me, Eric (our director) and Lauren backstage before opening night...I get so nostalgic and happy when I think about this show!

xoxo

Vote

Do it, bitches. If you don't want to listen to me, listen to Sarah Silverman. She's much funnier than I am, and also more famous. Although to be honest, I am kind of a local celebrity. I'm very important...in York, Pennsylvania. Awesome.


The Great Schlep from The Great Schlep on Vimeo.

Mania

Holy shit. I am so excited. I mean, SO EXCITED. I'm like Jesse Spano from Saved By the Bell on caffeine pills before the big performance. Don't you even pretend you don't know what I'm talking about.



I haven't been this excited in a really long time. I blame a few things. One of them is a giant buttface who sucks the fun out of life. The other is the lack of alcohol in my life for the past few months. And even though I still can't drink, I'm SO EXCITED!

So it's Halloween. And so much fun is going to be had this weekend. Tonight the boy is coming (yay!) and we're going to a party at Kate's. This party will then depart to 2nd Street in Harrisburg for what is bound to be a rousing good time. There will likely be lots of crazy people running all around, and that is fantastic.

Tomorrow I'm doing a show, which is good because I'll get money. I like money. When I have it, that is. When I don't, we're bitter enemies. Then, just about everyone I know and love is coming out to Bube's Brewery for an evening of mayhem and debauchery. I LOVE THOSE THINGS! Especially when they are partners.

Now, in more serious news, I will be turning off my phone starting at 7:00 p.m. this evening. I will not be turning it back on until 7:00 p.m. on Sunday. Please read my prior entry for more details about this event. That is a much more grave thing...but it will be interesting fodder for the essay that I'm going to be Pulitzer Prize winning. So please leave me messages on my phone letting me know that you love me even though I will not be able to respond immediately.

Yay.