Wednesday, October 20, 2004
survey says, you suck!
i am suprised that crash-test dummies are marketed for some situations that are both dangerous and potentially too damaging for actual people to undergo, like simulated automobile accidents, but not for others, like Heart To Heart Conversations.
her: i guess what i mean is that i love you, and i mean never to leave you, and if what i thought was my first choice happiness doesn't work for both of us together, i promise to try to figure out a compromise that does, and i would love it if you could say the same.
him: . . .
. . .
. . .
. . .
wow. i feel like a jerk.
the twitchy vein above his eyebrow: NO.
the cartoon bubble i have painted over his head for when he doesn't speak: i will stay here in new york even if it makes you get sick and sad and childless so neener and you can't stop me.
sigh.
not surprisingly, i'm on night five of the craptastic nighttime wakies. and it's a long day. i will, however, be on joey reynold's radio show tonight, with other members of my company. we're taping at 11:45 pee em--i assume it's live, but i don't really know.
i ran into this completely by random while paging through the public theatre's website after my audition today. it won't mean much to some of you, but some of you were also around while this play was being written. it's a stupendous play, so i'm glad it's happening here, and i made sure i got some free tickets to it, but i'm a little dorkily scared that it will be bittersweet to see the play done without me. self-centered, but. that play was the beginning of good stuff for me, the exact kind of good stuff i miss out here where the three a.m. car alarms and public pee sightings grossly outnumber meaningful theatre experiences, and the memory makes me a little nostalgic.
her: i guess what i mean is that i love you, and i mean never to leave you, and if what i thought was my first choice happiness doesn't work for both of us together, i promise to try to figure out a compromise that does, and i would love it if you could say the same.
him: . . .
. . .
. . .
. . .
wow. i feel like a jerk.
the twitchy vein above his eyebrow: NO.
the cartoon bubble i have painted over his head for when he doesn't speak: i will stay here in new york even if it makes you get sick and sad and childless so neener and you can't stop me.
sigh.
not surprisingly, i'm on night five of the craptastic nighttime wakies. and it's a long day. i will, however, be on joey reynold's radio show tonight, with other members of my company. we're taping at 11:45 pee em--i assume it's live, but i don't really know.
i ran into this completely by random while paging through the public theatre's website after my audition today. it won't mean much to some of you, but some of you were also around while this play was being written. it's a stupendous play, so i'm glad it's happening here, and i made sure i got some free tickets to it, but i'm a little dorkily scared that it will be bittersweet to see the play done without me. self-centered, but. that play was the beginning of good stuff for me, the exact kind of good stuff i miss out here where the three a.m. car alarms and public pee sightings grossly outnumber meaningful theatre experiences, and the memory makes me a little nostalgic.
