Oh! I almost forgot! My happy tidbit! I got a storage space! After almost five years in my apartment, patiently waiting for one of the six storage spaces to open up, one of them finally did and I snagged it. Assuming someone didn't go down there last night and empty it again. See, the locking mechanism isn't very reliable. There is only half of it on there -- the little gate part that goes over the ring through which you put a padlock is there, but there is no little ring. So I have to stop at a hardware store on my way home and pick one up. But I put my padlock on the little gate part, and put some boxes (either empty or unimportant) in there to make it look claimed. So now, I can really go through my stuff and sort things out and make some space in my apartment. Make the closets usable. Maybe even get a table for my kitchen.

Right before I might have to move out for financial reasons.

I've gone on two (kind of three) job interviews now. I interviewed twice at Wrigley and if anything, my schedule is going to screw me out of that job. I don't think I'll be able to find an understudy for the days I would have to go to training, so I'll probably have to turn the job down. Though I might ask when/if they call me if they could pass my application along to the vendor department or the in-game presentation assistant people. But either way, that job makes no money, so I'd have to keep this one while I worked there. And the other job interview I went on yesterday had me totally nonplussed about working there. The interviewer was belching and yawning the whole time -- he "didn't get enough sleep the night before." He asked me about six times why they should hire me, what is impressive about me. I should have said, "I showed up for a 9:30 am interview on a Sunday without a hangover. That should impress you enough to give me the job." But even so, again, we're talking about a job that makes no money, is farther away from home than my current job, and that I'm pretty sure I would get tired of very quickly. While I would not be opposed to learning how to drive a bus, I'm okay with not knowing how to drive a bus, too. Meh. We'll see.

I guess this is the good thing about looking for a job while I still have one -- I can be picky. It all just depends on how badly I want to get away from here/how much I'm willing to put up with. But seeing as I just got a storage space, I'm kind of inclined to take a job that will allow me to stay in the apartment I am currently in. I love it there, I really do. And now that I can actually save some money, I can turn it into a really nice home.

We'll see. The future is not set. Okay -- that's the other thing that pissed me off about the Oscars. Since when is the "Terminator 2" theme song the Oscar theme song? Granted, me and Brad Fidel (the composer) are probably the only people who noticed, but what the hell? Anyway, I just have to remember that things always change and I always have options. Hell, I might end up going to Iowa to reprise my role in "Real Aural Talent," which will, by then, be called "Natural Talent," and contain the word "bippy" a lot more than it already does. We'll see. Nothing is set in stone. But for the time being, I'm still at my desk, geeking about the fact that I now have a storage space. Life looks so much rosier when you don't have so much clutter.

Thoroughly unimpressed by the Oscars this year. It did, of course, make me want to be an actor. But by the same token, I wasn't really impressed by anyone's speeches, Chris Rock's jokes were sad at best. After the Bush jokes, it was all downhill from there. And why did we have Beyonce sing three songs? Most importantly, why did we have Beyonce sing a song that the Phantom was supposed to sing. Why not have that Josh kid sing that one, seeing as he is a classically trained opera singer. And male.

I dunno. Meh. I want to be an actor, but we all already know that. Time for me to take some action. Dun dun dun!

"I'm not going to bash Bush," says Chris Rock. And then he continues with his monologue. Sweet jebus. He said what I've been saying all along. "Imagine you worked at the GAP and your register came up 70 trillion dollars short." Brilliant.

The rest of the monologue, meh. Eh. I'll talk more about the Oscars later. I just had to mention that.

I know they're just trying to be fair in the sale of Cubs tickets, but I've been in the virtual waiting room for an hour and a half now. Cubs are like crack -- I need a fix! If I can just get tickets today to the one, maybe two games that I'd really like to go to, I'll come back next week and buy more. I just want the one game! Please? Pretty please? What if I promise to flash someone while I'm there? Or if I promise to not propose to my New York guy friend? What if I promise to play strike out make out with whoever I take to the game, unless it happens to be my brother 'cuz that's just icky. Pretty please? I have money to give you, Cubbies. Why won't you take it?

Can it please be March 22 today? Please? Moby put out a free sampling of all of the songs on "Hotel" on iTunes and it is wonderful. I am so looking forward to this album. I have one friend who says he doesn't normally like Moby very much because he's not into techno type stuff, but he likes the single "Beautiful." This friend will love this album. Its not so much techno as it is rock and roll. Not hard rock. Not metal. Not quite pop. Sure it uses synthesizers and has a couple of purely instrumental tracks, but it also uses guitars and drums and bass and all that wonderful stuff. No samples. From the samples put out, it sounds like a sort of grown up "Animal Rights." He was so angry on "Animal Rights," but as you listen to that album, you can hear the peak of his anger and then the reaction to it. The breakdown. The moment when he starts to cry at the hopelessness of it all. "Hotel" sounds to me so far like it came from the same musical place as "Animal Rights," but with different subject matter.

I dunno. I could be totally wrong. But I SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO cannot wait for this album. I cannot wait. I want to hear the whole thing right now. It also sounds like there could be a bunch of singles on here, so maybe he'll pop back into the spotlight. Who knows. Either way, I cannot wait for this album. I cannot wait for this tour.

Though in the meantime, I can get excited about the fact that Cubs tickets go on sale at 10:00 am today. At which time, I will be shutting my door and playing online for a while. Maybe one game a month? Try to, anyway. Buy the tickets now before I become totally broke.

So this review came out in Gay Chicago Magazine yesterday about the show I'm currently in, and I thought I would share it with you, and then maybe speak to a couple of semi-relavent points made therein:

"REAL AURAL TALENT"

- reviewed by Venus Zarris

One of the wonderful things about the vast plethora of small theatre companies in Chicago is that you have the opportunity to discover amazing organic treasures of brilliant, undiscovered talent. The downside is that you have to occasionally wade through raw sewage. Had I known ahead of time about "Real Aural Talent," I would have worn disposable rubber boots before viewing this indiscernible tripe. As it is, I'll have to throw out the shoes I wore to the show, because they are now covered with crap.

The biggest question that seeing a show that is this lame proposes is, "Does anyone read the script before agreeing to produce it?" How can the time, money and resources, meager as they may be in some cases, be devoted to such infantile stupidity? At some point, very early on with a script this bad, someone has to have the foresight to realize that this is not worth the effort. It is neither fun nor funny and is so problematic that is elicits more groans as a reaction than anything else. The Cornservatory is a BYOB theatre, and there were a few people who showed up with cases of beer. Perhaps that might help the viewing a bit, but I would think that this bad of a play would only waste the buzz.

A company that produces books on tape wants to set up one of its production directors to fail. It gives him the task of recording a horrible book with substandard actors. This sounded like it could be funny as a sketch, but I was suspicious about it sustaining itself for a full-length play. But who knows? Stranger topics have been attempted with excellent results, so I went in with an open mind and hopes of being entertained. But the writing is so bad that even as a five or 10-minute sketch, this would have fallen on its face.

As it is, it is two acts of ridiculous babbling and nonsensical garbage. It opens with a performance art piece that is a parody of a totally pretentious performer. The satire is adequately pompous and self-aggrandizing, and the idea is cute with good delivery, but it is simply not funny. Then there is a five to 10 minute lull before the show continues. This confusing and laughless opening does not bode well for the rest of the show.

There is a committee of company executives in hoods and robes that move around during a silly nonsensical choreographed meeting. They cryptically discuss the demise of Jeffery Banner, the book-on-tape director who they conspire to terminate. My friend asked, "Why is the Klan in this scene?" as their costumes are ludicrous. Then we move to the studio where Jeffery and his assistant, Steve, a guy with a Mohawk haircut and British accent (this is funny why?), set off to record the doomed project. It seems as if Steve's accent was thrown in just because he could do it. I can hear the rehearsal where this decision was made. Actor: "Hey! I know! I can do a real good British accent!" Director: "Cool!"

Five different people attempt to record the book, but all fail. Jeffery comments after one try, "Sweet bippy, that was awful!" Not as awful as that stupid line. "Sweet bippy?" What?

There is childish poop humor when two of the characters have to use the bathroom at the same time so they race to make it to the toilet. Ironically, they are all actually taking a shit at the same time by just being in this show.

Sadly, there is evidence of some talent in the cast, but nothing can save this atrocious script, which is all over the map bad. Unless you have a masochistic taste for exceptionally horrendous theatre, do yourself a favor and spend your evening with a real book on tape. (Zero stars)

("Real Aural Talent" runs through March 11 at Cornservatory, 4210 N. Lincoln. 312-409-6435.)

I'll let you digest for a minute.

Good?

Okay, let's start in paragraph 2. She calls the show "problematic." Okay. Where are the problems? What are the problems? Other than it being "neither fun nor funny." Okay, that's kind of subjective, don't you think? And I'm not sure what night she was there, but I do sit backstage every night and listen to the crowd and I hear WAY more laughs than groans. I discussed this with my cast mates last night, and they, too, were much more aware of laughs than groans. We're not even sure what in the show is groan-worthy. Its not a "punny" show, if you know what I mean. Except for the one night this guy threw in a "your mom" joke, but I think I was the only one who heard it because he said it kind of under his breath. Anyway. Ms. Zarris, if you'd like to point out what the eggregious problems are with the script, maybe then we could discuss them. I, for one, am kind of at a loss.

How can one go into a production suspicious of its ability to sustain a full length play, but yet with an open mind? Hmmm...

Paragraph four is about me. I am the "adequately pompous and self-aggrandizing" performance artist. I'm glad she found my idea cute and well delivered. Thank you for that. I feel I must explain what that was, though. That piece was sort of a pre-show thing. A trailer for another show, if you will. It was not part of "Real Aural Talent." It was from another show entirely, that Simone Muran performed in another venue at another time. It was intended to be a piece speaking to the death of the English language as a result of rampant computer speak. It was not intended to be funny. It was intended to make a statement. Some people find the piece funny because of how ludicrous it is that Simone can take herself seriously performing that stuff, but it was not supposed to be funny. So I guess I'm glad you didn't find it funny? Wait, I'm confused now. I don't know how to feel about paragraph four...

Just a side note: the Klan does not wear black. Nor neckties.

I have a question for you, Ms. Zarris: are British accents inherently funny? Is the only reason for having a British character in a play to make the audience laugh? Is the only reason for doing any accent in a play to make the audience laugh? Because if so, why were you not offended by the pop star's manager's southern drawl? Or at the very least, why was it not mentioned? Why is it okay to have a person with a drawl in a show, but not a person with a British accent? Do you not like the Brits for some reason? Just wondering.

And I, for one, like the phrase "sweet bippy." I would like to commend the author for finding more varied cries of disgust than, "Well shit," or "Oh, fuck." I think it adds flavor and character to the show. Not everyone has to have a potty mouth, you know.

Speaking of potties, I love how a throw-away conversation became the focal point of this review. See, in the scene, they take a break from the reading and two characters leave the stage to use the rest room. It is all of, what, three lines? Whereas there is an ENTIRE SCENE devoted to a man with flatulence problems. If you're going to focus on the potty humor in the show, how can you completely neglect that scene?

I would like to say that I am not upset by this review. Honestly. I think it is really funny and no, that is not a defense mechanism. I find the review very poorly written and "all over the map bad." I would give it negative stars if I could. I just posted it here to show how apparently off my taste in theater is.

I don't think I'm alone in my theatrical tastes, though. Every night, I hear our audiences, small as they may be sometimes, laughing heartily throughout the show. I think I told you about the guy who said, "Huh, that's funny," when I collapse on stage. And as small as our audiences have been, we've had repeat viewers. So I guess I wanted to point out this review as an example of why you should not read reviews. The reviewer is most likely looking for things other than what you are. Just because someone with a newspaper column likes a show, it doesn't mean you will, and vice versa. See the theater you want to see. Listen to the music you want to listen to. Go the movies you think look like fun. And formulate your own opinions. And if any of you out there happen to come see my show and think you can honestly give it a worse review than this one, please let me know. I'd love to read it.

So I finished writing a first draft of a children's play today and I must say, its cute. I don't know that it is jam packed with hysterical lines and gags and stuff, but I think it is something the whole family can enjoy. It has fun music and a couple of parties and broccoli and an Oingo Boingo parody that I hope would not offend Danny Elfman. My intent is not to offend Danny Elfman, or Steve Bartek or any of the other members of Oingo Boingo, but rather to pay homage to their wonderful musical abilities by (hopefully) introducing them to a new audience. Because years from now, when the kids who see this show are older, they will think back on that song and wonder where it came from, and they will learn that it was a take-off on Oingo Boingo's "Weird Science" and hopefully they will seek out "Weird Science" and other Boingo tunes and learn of the joy that is Oingo Boingo music. I want to work out a Boingo cover, too, that I can play out. Maybe "Not My Slave."

But yeah, so I have a first draft of a children's play that needs input. I'm kind of afraid to show it to my company's artistic director right away, though. Maybe I'll ask some other company members first. Then spruce it up. Then give it to the artistic director for a final review and approval.

Sounds like a plan.

So how long after a job is posted do people actually respond to it? Like, how long before the committee gets together, reviews the resumes, and starts calling people in for interviews? I know, I know, it's different for every company and every position. But usually, when I go on an audition, if I don't hear from them within a week, I assume I didn't get the position. How long do I wait before I give up thinking, "I applied for that company that sounded like it could be cool?"

I hate waiting.

So in the meantime, I'm going in for my second interview today at Wrigley Field to be part of the crowd control team this summer. I think I'd rather be a vendor. Or the scoreboard typist. But I'm going to go anyway. It would be fun to spend a summer at Wrigley.

Change is a very frightening thing. Now that the possibility of leaving my current job is staring me in the face, I'm terrified. I've finally gotten to a place where I have enough money, and I'm looking at the prospect of throwing myself into complete and total financial uncertainty. I know I'll be fine. I know there are things that I can go without and things that I can do to make my life more economical. But its scary to not know. Its scary to potentially not know where my next paycheck will come from, or how big or small it will be. Its scary. But I have to remember that one of the greatest compliments I ever received was an old classmate calling me fearless. Vivir con miedo es como vivir a medias, si? Ja.

Theater Ettiquette 101:

If a theatrical performance says it will begin at 8:00 pm, do not show up to the theater at 8:30 pm and expect to be seated and/or not glared at.

Thank you.

I know it is fashionable to be late places. It is not fashionable to be late to the theater. It is rude to the actors and the rest of the audience to show up late. It pulls everyone out of the fantasy world that is the production happening on the stage. A movie, fine. You'll just piss off the other people around you. And if you don't see the first half an hour of Romantic Comedy X, chances are, you really didn't miss much. You will miss a lot of important exposition if you miss the first half hour of a play. You will piss off the other people around you, the actors, the box office staff, any involved ushers. It's really not that hard to get somewhere on time. Or, if you know you are going to get there an hour late, don't go. Suck it up and try again some other night. If you're really that concerned about wasting the money spent on the ticket, show up on time in the first place. It was important enough to you to spend $300 on Avenue Q tickets, it should be important enough to get there on time. That's all I'm sayin'.

Thank you.

So I think I'm going to call my new little song "Trite" because honestly, I think that is what music critics would call it. They would find the subject matter trite and simple. And I already have a song called "The Simple Answer," so I have to come up with something different. "Contrived" doesn't quite fit the song, and the other title option, "Someday," is even more trite than calling it "Trite." So "Trite" it is.

I want to make it clear, however, that I do not think the song is trite. The bridge is not my best bridge ever, and I'm still playing with the ending, but there was something in me that wanted to write this song, so I wrote it. And like I tell everyone who asks me for advice on writing music (which, by the way, amuses me to no end -- the girl who has never taken an actual guitar or songwriting class is being asked how to write music. I don't know what I'm doing, I'm just trying to make things sound good. Most of my songs just happen anyway. The semi-decent ones, anyway.), you have to write the crap down so it can get out of the way so good stuff can come out later, so never censor yourself. "Trite" is a song that wanted to be written, so I wrote it. I'm not saying it's excellent; I'm not saying its crap. Right now, it fills a purpose in my life and I enjoy playing it.

So what is this trite subject matter, you may ask? Well, it is about the point you get to when you are mourning a relationship where you want to carve said person out of your life, like in Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (which is an excellent film, by the way) because everything about that person is just painful, even the sweet gifts and kind words that were exchanged. And you really just need to hate that person for a little while. So you pick up the box of stuff you collected over the course of the relationship, and you set out to burn it, but then you see a picture, or a note, or a teddy bear, and you remember, "Yeah, we had fun, too. We laughed. There was some real tenderness," and you realize that even though it hurts now, you want to remember that tenderness still. When you are a grandparent, you are still going to want that teddy bear that he won for you at the carnival on your first date. You are still going to want the ticket stub from the Broadway show you saw together because damn it, that was a good show and a wonderful night. You know that eventually, the pain will subside and you will be able to look back on the relationship with calm and a sweet sadness, instead of the bitterness you now feel. So you put the things back in the box and stuff the box back under your bed where you don't have to look at it for a long time. Not until you are at peace with the loss. That is what "Trite" is about. And I like it.

Is it wrong that the one person I really want to see every day, who makes me happier than anyone else, is a cat?

I don't know if you can understand the bond between a human and a pet unless you've ever had a pet, but its really something amazing. This creature of another species, who doesn't speak English or Spanish or Dutch, communicates with me. He trusts me. He knows I will feed him every day. He knows how to get me to play with him. There have been studies done that show that the touch of a familiar human can lower the blood pressure of an animal, relaxing him/her. Meaning I'm just as good for Owen as he is for me. I love it that he meets me at the door when I get home. I love it that he sleeps next to me at night. I love it that he stands on my pillow in the morning and waits for kisses before I carry him into the kitchen to get some breakfast. I love it that as of late, he gets antsy when I'm in the shower and he'll stick his head inbetween the shower curtain and the liner and meow at me like the world is about to end.

I know, I know, these cute, gushy entries are no fun. But I love my cat. Thank you to my friends who brought him into my life. We got off to a rough start, there, but I wouldn't trade him for the world.

So I put together this little benefit concert for the Avon Walk for Breast Cancer and I am so excited about it, I think I'm going to vomit. And I'm so nervous about it, I think I'm going to vomit. Either way, something is going to come back out that shouldn't.

I got these two other amazing Chicago musicians to play with me, Phil Circle and Jeremy Babcock. I am so amazed at their enthusiasm and generosity! They are both really excited to be playing, and I love their music, and they are just really nice people. I can't believe all I had to do was ask and they agreed to participate. Thank you guys! I owe you big time.

And the people at the Heartland Cafe for letting me put together my own event, just giving me a date to work with. I did a play in their theater space a while ago, so I can vouch for the venue and say that it is really nice and has great food, much of which is vegetarian/vegan friendly. And the best hot chocolate in the WORLD. Though I don't know that people will want to be drinking hot chocolate in April, but take my word for it -- it is amazing.

And it seems like everything is in order. Now it is just up to my own little promotions department to get the word out there. Phil and Jeremy are helping with that, too, getting the word out to all of their fans. I hope people show up. I hope people have fun. I hope I don't vomit. I hope nothing explodes or implodes or completely falls apart, making me look like a completely incompetent ass. I know I'm excited for the show. I think it will be great. I guess if I just keep the positive attitude about the whole thing, and promote the hell out of it, well, that's the best I can do, right? Keep your fingers crossed for me just in case, though. Thanks.

Happy Valentine's Day, kids.

I'm in the middle of writing another semi-depressing love song. Started it last night. I'm not sure if I like it yet or not, but I think it has potential, so I'll keep plugging away at it. And hey, if it turns out sucking, only Owen and I ever have to know about it.

I'm also not quite sure what to make of the outcome of the Iraqi elections. I know it was a Shiite who won, but I don't know enough about the different groups to be able to say that's a good thing or a bad thing. I hope its a good thing.

I think that's about all I have for today. Yesterday was a "feelin' groovy" kind of a day and today just isn't. Probably because I had a Moby dream last night that was really fun and really not at the same time. He and I were just kind of hanging out and I was going to see his concert later that night, but somehow, I knew he wasn't going to be there -- they were just going to pipe in his music from elsewhere. And not knowing what his actual plans for the evening were, I knew he was probably thinking about that instead of enjoying hanging out with me and that made me feel really awkward. We had a good time in my dream -- we drank tea and watched some fish and talked and stuff (no, not that kind of stuff, you sickos) -- but I knew he wanted to be elsewhere. Never a fun situation. But then again, not really one I have to deal with because it was just a dream.

I'm going to shut up and drink my tea now. The rest of you: go tell your friends and family that you love them. Its a good day for that. To my friends and family, I love you very much.

Why are there no average or ugly women in movies or on TV? You'll see a TV couple consisting of a very average, sometimes downright unattractive man with a really hot wife. Does that really happen? And what about the really average looking women in the world with really hot husbands? Why don't we see those relationships on the screen? Just wondering. You know, since the pressure on women to look a certain way in our society is as great as it is. I think it might help if we saw more average looking women in movies, in lead roles -- not just as the fat friend, you know? Because whenever they need an unattractive woman in a movie, they take a knock-out and put her in make up. Like in "Monster" or "Being John Malcovich." Why not just cast someone unattractive to begin with? Like when they want someone with a certain accent, so they cast a person from said place, rather than hire a dialect coach.

I'm just wondering. And now I'm going to drink my sleepy time tea. Good night.

I like my stupid life just the way it is, and I wouldn't even trade it for a flock of screaming pigs.

Thanks, Mr. Elfman.

My mom gave me this tape that I have yet to listen to that talks about a woman's cycle in more metaphysical terms than maybe we're used to. Some women apparently have greater insights at different times of the month and whatnot. Which, I guess would make sense, as we also get moody and irritable and depressed at other times during the month. Its only fair if it balances out. But even though I haven't listened to the tape, I'm trying to pay attention to my moods throughout the month, to see if I have any greater insights or anything. I haven't really noticed any formal patterns or anything as of yet, but I have noticed that for every day I spend getting miserable and down on myself, I have another day wherein I love my life. And today is an "I love my life" day. I don't even know why. I woke up feeling like crap; I've hardly left my house, but I just feel mentally good. I like my house. I like my neighborhood. I like my friends. I like the fact that I went to two parties this weekend whereat I knew almost noone and I still had a blast. I like it that my inappropriate crush seems to be fading, thanks to my friends. I like it that I can get away with having no hair. I like that I have a theater to belong to, and a local bar where they know my name. I like it that my money woes are evaporating. I like it that I figured out a cover of "Porcelain" that is really pretty (I think). I like it that Moby has a new album coming out. I like drinking tea. I should make a note of this day so I remember that I do have them, and so I can figure out when to expect them during the month.

I'm just kind of off today. Have you ever had one of those days when you were positive that you are not of this world? You're just not supposed to be here right now. Maybe tomorrow, this will again be your place, but for right now, it's just not right. Your head doesn't feel like its attached to your body, but even if it was, it certainly doesn't contain your brain at this point in time. You'd really just be better off sitting outside counting air molecules or something. I'm kind of having one of those days. Its a little difficult to concentrate on the ONE THING that I have to do in my office. If I had thirty-seven things to do, I might be able to get myself to do one of them, but this one thing is just not happening for me today. Or it is, but it is happening very slowly. Kind of like my decision on whether or not I'm hungry and feel like eating today. Like I said, today, I'm just off.

But I keep watching/listening to Moby's "Lift Me Up" video. Like I said, it's not an amazing video or anything, but I am very much enjoying the song. I picture myself in a dark club dancing like the guy in orange to this song. I can't wait for him to go on tour so I can see him play it live and dance with other people who love the song, too. And I'm also very much aware, once again, of exactly how much like Wallace (from Wallace and Gromit) Moby looks. That was grammatically odd. Sorry. Moby looks like Wallace. Very much. And I still maintain that Moby is one of the cutest men I have ever met. I now say "one of" because one of the men in the play I'm currently in is also almost sickeningly cute. Very sweet, very kind, just adorable. Doesn't shave his head, though. There are only three of us in the play who do. But yeah, in a really strange way, it seems funny to me that a song called "Lift Me Up" is making me feel kind of grounded and connected to the rest of the world. Thanks, Moby.

They're moving another one of my co-workers and shang-hai-ing her office. Someone new is moving into her office on Monday. She found out about this about an hour ago. There was no plan made for where to put her. We're not terribly surprised, just fantastically annoyed. I really need to find another job. It occurred to me that I could look for jobs elsewhere, and that if I do, my chances of 1) finding something I want to do and 2) finding something closer to the industry I want to be involved in would be much improved. I do love Chicago, though. Especially at this time of year when I get to watch the sunrise over the Chicago skyline. It really is beautiful. New York and LA can't compete in the skyline department, but they could probably afford me more job opportunities. I don't want to move to LA. New York, maybe. I'd be able to eat at Teany whenever I wanted to...but I'd probably have to get a roommate because New York is expensive. Maybe I should apply for a few jobs out there and see what happens before I start rearranging the rest of my life.

And in sets the ick. I can feel it behind my eyes. They feel like they are trying to make a grand escape from my head, but they just need a little more cash so they know they'll be able to survive on the outside. So they're fighting with my sinus passages, trying to squeeze out just a few more bucks, but the sinus passages are resilliant little fuckers and they're not giving anything up without a boatload of mucus attached to it.

What a terrible time to get sick. Oh well. It's gotta happen sometime. At least I kind of have a weekend this weekend. Not really tomorrow, but maybe Sunday I can rest. That's what Sundays are for, right? Resting?

I'm going to be distastefully giddy for a minute. I finally got the video for Moby's new song "Lift Me Up" to play and I have to say I love it. It's not a fantastically superb video or anything, but I really really really like the song. I'm so geeked for his new album to come out! And, of course, there are worse ways to spend three minutes than looking at Moby and watching him perform. And the fun part is, my hair is the same length as his today. One of my cast mates shaved it for me last night. It's not exactly all even, but he did it with no guard on his clippers, so my hair is kind of sandpapery. And apparently, I'm still sexy. My theater friend said I'm "actually" bald now, as opposed to just having really short hair, and he says it looks good. I'm kind of enjoying being a bald woman. But I'll be happy when I have hair again.

Sorry. I kind of got off the subject there for a minute. Yay Moby's new record! If you can check out this song, I would highly recommend it. It's a great dancing-in-a-club-late-at-night-when-its-smoky-and-there-are-lots-of-lights-flashing-and-you're-sweaty-but-so-is-everyone-else-so-who-cares kind of a song.

So in case you were wondering, it sounds like my cousin and her girlfriend are doing fine. Yay! They are so amazing to me.

And after you take a break today, if I could call on you one more time for happy vibes. I know this guy, a man I used to dance with, who has a brain tumor. Prognosis is not good. Kind of a no-win situation and it breaks my heart. He has a beautiful wife, a two year old daughter, and another child on the way. Who he may not live long enough to ever meet. He is going in for surgery tomorrow, which may prolong his life a bit, or it may turn him into a vegetable. His whole family and support group of friends is very positive and they are all determined to beat this. Their faith is staggering. I kind of feel like a crappy friend because I've not really been there for them. At all. But if I could put out there one more request for help, it would be to send good energy to him tomorrow morning as they work to get rid of the mass in his brain. He is such an incredible, loving, giving man. My thoughts are with you, and will be with you tomorrow.

If I could send out a call for good energy/prayers/happy thoughts today, my cousin is donating one of her kidneys to her girlfriend who has been battling lupis for years. Please send them good energy so that everything goes well. I can't imagine the fear and/or nervousness on both parts, and I am humbled by the display of love and generosity shown by my cousin, in surrendering one of her organs so that her girlfriend can live a happy, healthy life. They are both amazing, wonderful women and I hope all goes well today. I'd like them both to be around for a while.

I love you guys!

Couple of random things:

I've been listening to Oingo Boingo again lately. It's been a long time since I listened to them and I've really been enjoying it. This is good music. Instrumentally challenging. Lyrically interesting. Rhythmically fascinating. So yeah, if you don't know Boingo, go pick up a disc and give it a listen. It's really good stuff.

Today is Fat Tuesday. Yay Fat Tuesday. I guess that means I have to come up with something to give up for Lent, which starts tomorrow, right? Even though I'm not Catholic (or even technically Christian anymore), it's kind of fun to give something up for Lent. Maybe I'll give up my totally inappropriate crush. Which means it is okay to indulge in it today. Which is a good thing because I kind of think I have another one now, in that "Hey, you're really talented and funny and sweet and kind of cute" kind of a way. So for today, I will think about my inappropriate crushes and tomorrow, I will give them up.

And now I think I'll go see if I can find any Boingo guitar tabs. It'd be fun to cover one of their songs in my set. It'd be fun to be in a Boingo cover band. Okay, I'm stopping now.

Warning: I am going to be really distasteful and boastful and infantile.

I won the open mic at Uncommon Ground!

Maybe it is just me, but the open mic at Uncommon Ground is one of the more reknown ones in Chicago. It kind of irks me that it is a competition, but I guess it keeps things interesting. And, it is a way for them to "audition" bands without having to book them or pay them. But the open mic there is the first open mic I went to, and the first night I went, I made it to the final three. I have not been a finalist since then. My theater friend thinks I was one time when he was there, but I don't remember that. So tonight, I sang "Ordinary." I've sung it better, but it wasn't terrible. And I made it to the final three. And then I won. The other guys in the final three were "bands" -- each act consisting of two guys and they had harmonies and multiple instruments. And I know the guy running the thing said that it was completely arbitrary who made it to the final three because everyone was really good tonight, and they were. I would not have put me in the final three. But there I was. And I had enough of a cheering section to win the night. Which means I get to go back in July for their open mic showcase thingy, and I won $22, and I am on their radar -- they know who I am now. Kind of.

So thank you to the guy running the open mic for arbitrarily picking me. Thank you to everyone in the audience for cheering for me. Thank you to my friends (old and new) who were there to support and cheer for me. I love you guys and it means the world to me that you were there and stuck around long enough to see me play. Thank you.

But for the record, I still think it is ridiculous that it is a contest.

I dunno. I felt like a real musician again tonight. I haven't felt that in a long time. I could actually do this. I don't just have to stick to the little rinky-dink venues that let anyone play. My music appeals to people. I have a nice voice. I am a musician. Man, does that feel good to say that.

And now I'm done. I apologize for the distasteful happy boasting post. But I'm distasteful and happy and boasting right now. I'll stop.

So at least it is raining and not snowing. That makes me happy.

The world is kind of gray and dreary right now. Makes you restless. Makes you itch for a little push in one direction or the other. Either get really gray and dreary so we can all stay home and drink hot chocolate, or get a little warmer so the trees and flowers will bloom and we can open our windows and go play outside.

Do you remember when you were little, you would ask your friends if they wanted to play? And then you hit a certain age and "play" became synonomous with "having sex" and suddenly, even though you weren't totally aware of what sex entailed, you would ask your friends to "get together" or "hang out" because asking them to "play" was taboo?

I want to go play. As in go splash in puddles or play tag or roll down a grassy hill. But I think it needs to be a little warmer and less wet for most of that. Except for the puddles bit. I just need to be wearing crappier pants for the puddles bit.

So I don't think it's a big secret anymore (except from the people in my office), but I'm looking for a new job. The environment here has just gotten really toxic. I was always willing to put up with my stupid, boring "in the meantime" job because the people were great and the benefits were great and so on and so forth. But the environment has changed significantly and it is miserable coming in here every day -- moreso than it has ever been before. So I'm looking for something different.

I have my paralegal certificate, but I don't want to be a paralegal.

I've been an administrative assistant for the past five years and I'm damn good at it, but I don't really want to do that anymore, either. Unless it is at a talent agency or something like that -- something that gets me a little closer to my industry of choice.

I keep hearing about friends of mine getting these really cool jobs, like at radio stations or casting agencies or what have you and I don't even really know where to start looking for stuff like that. I want to be in a creative environment. I want a job that will challenge me. I want a job that will not make me physically sick every morning I have to go in there. Most of the listings on the three major online job hunting resources are pretty bland. I have my resume posted on one of them anyway, and I've applied to a couple of jobs from the others, but the pickings are pretty slim, as they say. I'm not in a hurry to leave here and I'm not going to leave unless I find something better. But I'm looking for something better. Actively. And if any of you know of anything that I might be good at, please let me know. I learn fast. I know there is no job out there at which I could not excel; it's just a matter of getting through the interview process, you know? And just because this will be another "in the meantime" job does not mean 1) it has to be something I will hate or 2) that I will not stick around for a while. Hell, my last "in the meantime" job has lasted almost five years...

So yeah, any help y'all might have to offer would be greatly appreciated. Even in other cities. If the job is right, I could be willing to relocate for it.

Thanks! And wish me luck!

I like this article. And hey, it was written by a Republican.

I love watching the behavior of two people who have crushes on one another, but have yet to reveal their feelings. The furtive sideways glances, cut short by direct eye contact. Searching for excuses to touch one another in acceptable ways. Adding physicality to anecdotes, so as to move closer to one another. The proverbial pulling of the pigtails. It is so predictable and so obvious, this mating dance we humans perform. And infuriating when I find myself participating.

Why am I so hard on myself for my attractions to other people? Well, first off, I'm always attracted to the unattainable. That's what is attractive about said person because if said person was attainable, that might mean that he/she could conceivably get to know me and fall in love with me and either he/she would tire of me or I would tire of him/her and we'd both just end up hurt. Yes, I have issues with letting people love me. We all know this. We also all know that it is something I am working on, so we don't need to dwell on that. We're looking at the issue at hand, which is me getting annoyed with my own human reactions to other humans.

Secondly, these persons are unattainable. Meaning nothing will happen except I will end up disappointed and hurt. Why do I allow myself to become emotionally invested in people who I know will only hurt me, whether or not it is intentional?

I watched a taped episode of "House" last night. If you're not hooked on that show yet, might I suggest checking it out. It's really lovely. But in this particular episode, a really amazing trumpet player is paralyzed and then gets pneumonia and he signs a Do Not Resusitate order because he doesn't want to live if he can't play anymore. There is this one scene wherein House is trying to convince the trumpet player to let him figure out what is causing the paralysis and the trumpet player calls House on his obsession of curing diseases. He points out that there are some people who have just one thing -- House has medicine, he has music -- that is so all-consuming that they don't have time for "normal" lives -- spouses, the house in the 'burbs, friends, etc. It got me thinking, "Am I one of those people? Is art my obsession?" I have passed up dating opportunities so I could do a show. I have passed up family functions for shows. I put my creativity above all else in my list of priorities, sometimes sacrificing financial security or my health or my physical appearance for the sake of my art. Is that why I'm so opposed to the possibility of dating? It would get in the way of my creativity? It steals too much focus? Or I subconsciously know that that is not the life for me, that my life is to be spent doing things other than sharing a bowl of popcorn with a loved one on a cold winter's day? And how depressing is that thought?

I would like to find someone with whom I can share my life, and who will share his life with me. It's the "getting there" part that is driving me crazy. And hey, I'm a bald chick -- men aren't supposed to find bald chicks attractive anyway, right?

Tee hee.

It's that time of year when I get to watch the sun rise and the sun set every day. I hate that I have to be awake that early, but I am so excited that I get to watch each new day be born. This morning, the sun looked like it does in every documentary I have ever seen about Africa. You know what I'm talking about -- the giant, fiery orange ball, floating in and out from behind the clouds, turning the sky colors that don't even exist in the 96 crayon box. It was breathtaking. And I feel so lucky that I get to see that.

Now if only that beauty didn't have to begin a day of sitting here, at my desk, in this office. I gotta find a different job.

Okay, I have determined that the real function of sleep is not to rest your body, but to rehydrate your eyes. Think about it -- you're walking around all day, looking at stuff, blinking a lot, probably not crying. Your eyes get dry. So at the end of the day, when your eyes just can't keep up with the gale-force winds created by your two-mile-per-hour gait, you go to sleep. Your eyes tell you when it is time for them to close. And if you don't get enough sleep, how can you tell? Your eyes are red and tired and they hurt. Because they didn't get enough time to produce enough tears to get you through the day. And if you go back to sleep for a little while, all is then right with your eyes. Or if you have yourself a good cry.

Sleep. It's not just about dreaming anymore.

You know, it just doesn't seem real. It doesn't seem like it really happened that Shrub was re-elected. Or, elected. Or, that he is in office still. It doesn't seem real. I don't understand how so many people could have voted for him, and how so few could stand up and say, "These poll results are obviously flawed. Something's wrong here." It just doesn't feel like he's still in office. Maybe because I've been trying to once again, not pay attention to politics. It's disheartening to feel so passionately about something and then have it go exactly the way you didn't want it to. I needed some distance. This morning, I went to read a transcript of last night's State of the Union Address and I couldn't do it. I found a transcript -- that wasn't the problem. I got about five paragraphs into it and had to stop. I don't have the energy to hate him for his lies today. I don't have the energy to scoff. Largely because I was out very late last night because it was opening night and the show went really well and the audience loved us so of course I had to go do karoke with the cast afterwards and I was getting positive attention from a guy I have a completely inappropriate crush on (hey, I made it a month without one of those. That's not too bad for me. And I'll quash this one, soon. Don't worry) and my romantic interest in the play gave me sunflowers which had me thinking about Harold and Maude half of the night and I don't know if anyone has ever given you sunflowers before, but they really brighten your day, but I didn't get home until after two o'clock and I didn't sleep fantastically well so I'm very tired though kind of proud of this run on sentence but what it all boils down to is that I don't have the energy to deal with our Commander in Chief right now. Were he to walk up to me on the street, I'd probably just walk away and leave it at that. I'm sorry. I'll get passionate about my beloved country again soon. I'm just tired today.

I got notes! Yay! New stuff to play with tonight on opening night! Yay!

I'm excited for this show to open. I'm frustrated with my job. I'm tired of the cold weather. Something needs to change soon. Except for this show. I want people to come see it and love it as much as I do. This is a good one.

So I guess I should take it as a good thing that my director(s) have nothing but good notes for me. And at the same time, it connects me to my character that much more because she has forever been on a quest to find someone to push her, to challenge her, to make her think outside of herself. It is kind of a disappointment to not find that person. It is kind of wonderful to know that I can keep up with persons who I admire and respect. And it is wonderful to know that I am putting on a great show. I am good at what I do. I am ready for more people to know that.