Now Playing -
nothing.
Now Eating -
nothing. Time for lunch!
Now Feeling -
vaguely cranky.
Now Tweeting
- Melanie
First week of classes. I understand how parents feel when their kids come home from sleep away camp. But, in another infantile simile, it�s like forgetting the pain of childbirth � we�re in denial of how crazy the first week is until it�s upon us. Then again, as The Partner in Crime so succinctly put it, with childbirth you get drugs.
This week, in addition to the hordes of rampaging law students, I�ve seen my Singing Gynecologist and my Singing Dentist. (Oh, if only my internist could carry a tune...I�d have a trifecta.) The gynecologist on Monday was expected (�I have a dream�that one day all women will be spared the horror that is a cold speculum....�); the dentist on Tuesday was not. I broke off part of a molar on Sunday, chewing on nothing more dangerous than bacon and eggs. (Okay, the bacon was crispy, and the eggs are dangerous to my cholesterol level, but nothing more.) But it was a clean break, so I was able to put it off for a bit.
The filling only took an hour, but I bagged rehearsal anyway. Because if anyone can fake post-dental drooling, it�s an actor, right? (Not that I don�t empathize with those who have suffered the indignity of legit post�dental drooling.) And The S.D. didn�t charge me for it, for which I owe him big time. Like sex big time. Which wouldn�t be a problem (hey, I asked Huz, and he okayed it!), except that the ADA probably frowns on things like that. But I�m sure he�ll settle for dinner. Which I already owe him anyway. Seriously, why is this guy single? (Asking this of my friends who know him, natch.) He�s handsome, talented, a professional, a(n Irish-Italian Catholic) mensch, and yet he can�t find a good woman. Case in point, a woman recently dropped him because she thought he was gay. Because after three dates, he didn�t attack her. I guess chivalry don�t pay nowadays. I�d fix him up with someone, if I knew any normal single women. One semi-normal woman I know balked at the suggestion of him, because I guess she�d rather date alcoholics, control freaks or married men. Yeah, he�s better off.
But that Sweet Air...hooboy. I gotta get The S.D. to order me up a canister of that shit wholesale. At one point, I started laughing to myself when I realized our chatter had ceased, because I could only think, �On the one hand, yes, it�s counter-productive to the work, but on the other hand, it�s absolutely pointless!� Because I was hiiiiigh.
And relaaaaaxed. There�s a lyric in A Little Night Music - �Keeping control while falling apart� - that encapsulates something I only recently acknowledged about myself � I�m just the teeniest bit of a control freak. Not fond of change I don�t initiate. Not one to lay back and let others manage my life (like a certain husband who likes to organize my cupboards�
) Not able to stop clutching the armrests in the hygienist�s chair. Prone to anxiety-inducing dreams about the only area of my life where I do feel in control: the theatre. The only place where I feel safe enough to let go.
Bah. Enough headshrinking. Just bring on the laughing gas, and I�m fine.
New toy!!! And half price, courtesy of a gift card from the SIL. I needed something to record music rehearsals, and with this I can upload the files onto my hard drive, burn them to CD and possibly even load them onto The Preciousss!
In much sadder news, Joy�s mom died Sunday, the day before the fourth anniversary of my father-in-law�s death. I won�t go into detail about her death, preferring to think of her as alive as when last we spoke, just two days before. And as alive as when I saw her last, just a couple of months ago, accompanying an entire opera by herself at age 78.
We should all live such lives.
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a very fine cat indeed - Friday, Jan. 17, 2014
happy new year! - Thursday, Jan. 24, 2013
this is where i am - Saturday, Jun. 30, 2012
this is how it is - Friday, Feb. 24, 2012
a very late last year's wrap-up - Wednesday, Jan. 18, 2012
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