Live-Blogging: Hurricane

I'm with Beeki!  Quick!  Before it's not funny anymore, everyone make hurricane jokes!

Like I did pre-Katrina!

I'm on my second bourbon and Coke so I'm not really able to say anything funny.  Except, like, Bourbon street.  Cause I'm drinking bourbon.  Umm.

What would the movie title for Gustav be?  

Katrina 2: the Bitch is Back!

Any ideas?

Live-Bogging: Going Home?

Wow.  I'm still reeling.  When did everything become such a reality TV show?  After yesterday's news I feel that we're not going to get ANYTHING done when we reconvene for rehearsals on Monday.

Because EVERYBODY is going to want to rant about how cool it is that, for the first time in our nation's history, there's finally a protein bar on the market that tastes good.

They're going to get MY vote.

Live Blogging: LaGuardia

In the cab to LaGuardia. And I'm getting motion sick typing this as we jerk and bounce around like crazy on these New York streets. At 4:45 in the morning it's just easiest to cab it! We're actually making *really* good time as the streets are pretty clear.

Holy cats. We are *rocketing* up the East River drive. This is nuts. We're moving so fast I'm afraid my heart might explode.

Just crossed one of the many uptown bridges into Queens. We're not in Mah-hah-eh anymore.

* * *

Okay. I made it. Everything's fine. I'm waiting to get on the plane to St. Louis (me. WAITING to get to St. Louis. What is wrong with this picture?). In the meantime, I have this *fantastic* "new" (?) Ink Spots album I just downloaded to keep me entertained. And if that begins to bore, I also have my DS, PSP, iTouch, digital camera, and the Ancient Book of Sudoku (copyright 2008).

I figured I needed to be prepared in case I should *shudder* have even one moment this weekend without some sort of entertainment lighting up the shadowy contours of my face. So I brought them all. Let's see...that's four screens, plus one extra (the DS) plus the Blackberry so if I did the math right (I don't have my glasses on) that's a total of six little screens to illumine my cold Texas nights.

Oh--and if you're at all interested in "The Ink Spots", look for the (five-star rated!) album "Street of Dreams" and download the song "If I Didn't Care". If you like that, congratulations. You have excellent taste. Ella Fitzgerald used to perform with this group before she really made it big, but got fed up with the high tenor. Apparently, during her solos, he'd stand behind her in all this ridiculous costume jewely and mug shamelessly.

Yeah. I don't know what *that's* like.

I feel a new post coming on.

I'm off

Tomorrow I leave for Texas.

Yes. Texas. We got the weekend off so I booked a ticket at the last minute and will be dining in the Lone Star State tomorrow afternoon.

I would really love to see all of you, but two days in a state twelve times the size of Qatar and no car to get around it in--it's just not gonna happen.

Besides, I'm really making this trip for the food.

Sorry guys. I've gotta be honest.

Oh yeah. And saying goodbye to our house of the past decade. That too.

Okay. Bedtime! I have to be out the door at 4:30am! Expect tele-blog updates!

Holy

I'm at an audition for Jesus.

"You mean to PLAY Jesus or Jesus is going to watch your monologue and judge you for all eternity?"

The first one.

But when you think about it, every day is like an audition for Jesus.

Banana

We've all gotta do SOMETHING.

Slump

I'm in a slump.

I don't know what to do with myself.

I'm bored. There's no work. There's nothing to do.

Okay guys, if you lived in New York, what would you do RIGHT NOW?

Super Fighting Robot!

Remember the last time someone who wanted to take over the world made a cool insignia out of the first letter of his last name?

Yeah. So do I. And it wasn't pretty for humanity.



Isn't it funny how art reflects life?



I'm just saying.

Obombservations

An Observation:

The people here who are Obama-crazy are people who I do not consider to be very sensible.

And not because they like Obama. I find out they'd give their lives for the Great Obama *after* I've already decided they're silly or slow or stupid or whatever. Like, I think they're perfectly nice people, but I wouldn't want them making important decisions.

And yes, most of them are actors who may or may not also be raw vegans.

Just...an observation.

Sick

I'm sick.

Wait...I THINK I'm sick.

See, ever since becoming Captain Healthoman, I find I don't get sick very often. In fact, aside from seasonal allergies, I think I can only remember being sick once in the past two years. I eat organic, take vitamins, exercise pretty much every day, and I've even taken to flossing. Yes. I floss every single day. Couldjadie?

But last night at rehearsal--

Oh wait. I haven't said anything about rehearsal.

The show has the potential for success. The problem is there's really only one other actor in the company who isn't completely off her rocker when it comes to acting. We've got Can't Take Direction Lady, Stop Rehearsal So I Can Clarify Lady, No Strong Choices Boy...the gang's all here.

I caught No Strong Choices Boy's cold. Wait--I THINK I caught his cold. Right now it's just a little sinus thing. But oh boy is it every annoying.

Seriously, y'all. I wish sick people would just stay away from everyone else until they either get better or die.

I don't have time to deal with all this post-nasal drip.

La Cage

I'm working for an idiot artist.

He's pretty bad. He's hired a private instructor to teach him how to draw. Once a week, the three of us meet for a few hours.

He's one of those really "open minded" New Yorkers.

At one point, the I.A. pulled out this enormous painting he had been working on and showed it to the instructor. Its back was to me so all I had to go on was his description which was, if not exactly this, then pretty dang close:

"I really wanted these horses to be the four horsemen of the apocalypse. See? I'm looking at pictures of horses for these. And this is the resurrected Christ in the center here. And there are people protesting and picketing his return on this side, and people happy about his return on the other side. And then, of course, there's this soldier leading him away and naked Christ has an erect penis."

Yeah. Whatever the eff THAT'S supposed to mean.

Alfred Hitchcock once said that the audience's imagination could create horrors more horrible than anything he'd be able to capture on film which is why so many of his "horror" sequences are captured at odd angles or don't show a lot of what's going on.

This case, however, is an exception. The real thing IS worse than anything you could imagine. When I saw the actual painting I wished I could go back to my imagined version. It was SO much better.

That aside, the instructor is a pretty down to earth kinda guy. Married, young, a very talented artist. He also does some IT work for some company and every now and then they have him go into people's accounts to snoop around and see what websites they've been visiting.

"So I found this HILARIOUS animal/porn website called...oh, what was it? Erotic Falconers or something. It's apparently for people with FALCON FETISHES. Isn't that weird?"

I.A. burst in a little TOO quickly with his, "That's just GREAT! That's FANTASTIC!"

The instructor looked at I.A. a little funny. I knew exactly what I.A. was doing and I WASN'T going to let him get away with it.

"Yeah!" I said, "That's just BUH-ZARRE! People can be so WEIRD!"

"That's great! That's just great! Good for them!" said I.A. a little louder, opening his mind so wide you could see the neurons firing.

"Yeah, it's really weird," agreed the instructor.

"Surely it MUST be a JOKE!" I declared. "I mean, BIRD fetishes? That's SO STRANGE!"

"That's just great! That's so great that they have a community where they can come together like that! That's GREAT. That's JUST SO GREAT! I'm SO GLAD!"

Sometimes I wish these "open minded" New Yorkers would stop and listen to themselves. I mean REALLY listen to themselves. In this world where absolutely anything goes and everything is permissable--I just don't know. I know we're soooo smart nowadays. I know we're sooooo enlightened. I know those fuddy-duddy family-oriented squares in the 50s were all just kidding themselves. But come ON, people.

While this tiresome brand of New Yorker would quelch our opportunity to express ourselves, at some point the rest of the human race HAS to be allowed to draw a line and say, "Normal things go here. Weird things go here."

Because if we don't, future generations WILL laugh at us. A LOT.

Headline

This may be one of the stupider headlines I've seen recently. And there have been some corkers.

I give you...the Associated Press.

Report: Elizabeth Edwards Was in Anguish Over Husband's Affair


She WAS? That's so odd! Most women I know would be just ducky!

Too Busy

So I modeled from 9-1, then went to the gym for, like, thirty measly minutes, bought some groceries, and now I'm home. And in, like, two hours I have to go to rehearsal.

I'm tired. And I don't want to go anywhere.

But I guess I have to. Because if I don't my dreams will never come true... :^(

*yawn*

Furniture

Buy this couch.

Farewell!

My roommate of two years has moved out. He left at 2am to catch his plane. I didn't even get to say goodbye.


Oh me. *sniff* I think I have something in my eye.




No, really. I think I have something in my eye.


The apartment sure is a different place now that he's gone. It's as if he was never here. Not even a trace of him...



...remains...aw MAN!




Wait--the door is locked. That means he took his keys. Those were the third pair of keys I made for him. He kept losing/giving away the spares.



And these are all his things! Since he waited until the day before he moved to start packing, all his stuff is still here!








That begnet mix expired in August of 2007!




I'm thinking he wanted me to have one last opportunity to take out his garbage.




This loveseat/fold out bed used to be white.








These are bags of clothes he didn't want anymore. Well, on the bright side, at least the bums who pass by our apartment tonight will have an awesome selection of pinstripe suits to choose from!



I don't know WHY he left this. I don't know why he BOUGHT this. He cooked with it two times and both times the apartment stunk for days. He didn't seem to mind. He just lit more incense.




After taking stock of all the crap he dumped on me to get rid of because he was too lazy to do it himself, this message feels less like a genuine expression of gratitude and more like...




Thank you!!!

Roommate

I've been so wrapped up in being poor that I completely forgot to mention...

My roommate is leaving today.

Or...he's SUPPOSED to.

He's doing a REALLY bad job packing. Like, his room is still filled with crap. And he leaves at 2am tomorrow. Yeah. Like, in 12 hours. And he's not even HERE right now.

I'm not going to miss him.

It's Official

I'm totally broke.

I'm 100% no-money broke.

Like, not even "I actually have a hundred bucks but I'm just gonna tell people I'm broke" broke. I'm totally and utterly with-out mo-ney. Not a dime to my name! And in New York effing City of all places!!

This is SO awesome! Do you know what this means? There's no place to go but up!! So the next few days should be the best days EVAR!!1!

Go Here

Wanna know what's going on? Well quit reading this and just go here instead!

Last Day

The instructor is telling these people that they need to go beyond just copying the figure and really try to infuse their work with some kind of emotion or something.

This is MAJOR news to these people. Like, they're freaking out. They don't know how to process what he's telling them.

Art? Emotion? *Together?*

I'm shocked. I kind of figured the reason you become an artist in the first place is because you're already a bit of an emotional basketcase and you have to let it out in some way.

I guess not.