Illy

I'm still in Illy.

Wow. There's NOTHING here. Nothing except Chicago. Visiting a college about 90 minutes from that Toddlin' Town.

The kids here are all right. A little blue collar. Most of the kids in the theatre come from disastrous home lives--I don't think a single one of them has a complete set of non-divorced, non-abusive, truly supportive parents. So all the boys think they're gay, all the girls are terrified of each other, and Moggie has her work cut out for her.

It IS good to see Moggie again. She's "back", that's for sure. The hair has inflated, the scarves are billowing, the cocktails are flowing. Even though the students here are nowhere NEAR as sophisticated as the kids from Alma Mater U in Wackytown, she's taking great delight in analyzing each one of them and becoming slightly tragic every once in a while when she's "just not sure she'll be able to get through to them."

Gotta run. More later.

Sexy Pants

'Henry Vee' is closed. Long live the king.

It was a really great show. I was awfully proud of this one.

There's nothing like taking a simple messenger role and making him the most evil character in the play. Man, it's *so fun* to be the bad guy.

Today I'm travelling to Illinwaa to speak to Moggie's graduating class about what New York is really like.

Since Manhattan turned into an oven overnight and I'm trying to stop wearing shorts (I try every year until about June or July), I decided to wear the next best thing.

My sexy pants.

They're the ones with holes in them. But the holes are in borderline inappropriate places. Take, for example, the sexiest hole. It's that peek-a-boo tear right below my right butt cheek.

Yeah. I know it's there. And you know what? I don't care. I can't help it if my hot bod acts as clothing-repellant.

Yes, I'm going on a trip dressed in rags.

And as I was going through my canvas Bed, Bath, and Beyond drawers looking for things to pack, I realized I have an abundance of white undershirts and little else.

I guess that comes from the fact that it doesn't matter how I look when I show up to work. Because as long as I don't wear anything, they don't care what I wear.

It would be so great if we could board the plane already.

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Wasting Away...

I may never fully recover from the shock of tax day.

I mean, life suddenly feels like a huge joke.

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Talking to the Pretty Girl

Megan's dad just had a triple bypass. She came to see 'Henry Vee' tonight. They just finished once the show let out. Megan called her mom and got all the details. Her dad is still being carefully watched as the anesthesia hasn't worn off enough to determine whether or not he had a stroke during the surgery.

Megan decides to go uptown to a concert instead of coming out for post-show cocktails.

Megan is really pretty. And she's really pretty.

We embrace.

Me: I'm glad your dad is okay (Sudden thought: Idiot, he's not out of the woods yet). For now. (OMGWTF!) Oh wow. That was really bad. Oh my gosh. I'm so sorry. I meant, like he's okay right now--(what's that noise she's making? Is she crying?) Are you crying? Please don't cry. I can't believe I just said that.

She was laughing. And when she composed herself, she said when I become a TV star I need to play someone's dorky best friend.

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Maybe it's just me, but in lieu of all the billions and trillions we've been tossing around lately, the pirate's request for 2 million dollars has a kind of Dr. Evil ring to it, no?

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External Drive, Internal Conflict

So I got to thinking about a sudden fire or disaster which would force me to run screaming from my burning apartment.

In moments like that, when you pause to consider your own mortality, there's only one thing that crosses my mind.

What stuff should I go back in for?

Clearly some video games as I'll have a lot of time on my hands. A bunch of protein bars to keep me going. And my computer. Wait...

My computer...yeah. That's pretty big.

But it's got a bunch of stuff on it that I CAN'T LIVE WITHOUT!

So, in lieu of this, I finally plugged in that 1 Terrabyte external hard drive my Dad got me for Christmas.

Man...that thing is huge.

I copied, unloaded, organized, and moved enough data and pirated--er--borrowed--er--FUN games, movies, and music to fill a human baby onto this thing.

So now, when the nuke goes off in Times Square, I can run to this puppy, unplug it, and throw it in my messenger bag just before I'm blasted to cinders.

Yep. I was pretty pleased.

But something went wrong.

After I transferred about a ton of digital media onto this thing, I checked the "fullness-o-meter" from My Computer.

And there's only 910 gigs left.

That made me sad. Like, I thought, "Maybe there's some stuff I put on there that I don't really NEED. I should make some more room on this external hard drive so I don't run out of space."

Am I crazy?

Late

We opened two weekends ago but I'm just now getting this up. This is what it's like to be an awesome off-off Broadway Shakespearean actor!