“You get talent when you discover the ground of your pain.”
I had a pack of rabid egg-dyeing enthusiasts at my house last night. I was surprised that they got as obsessive as they did – I was chided for not having real candles and two went to Walgreens to get real candles to drip no the eggs for more precision dyeing. Had about a dozen people show up. With kids, they’re all talking and babbling but in the kitchen there was a zen-like mood of attention to egg dyeing. I’d bought too much food as usual but the strawberries were the best – with the cream cheese fruit dip. Karen wanted to just stick her face in the bowl. Another successful party come and gone… I’m very blessed to have such wonderful friends.
I’ve started turning in my head what my birthday party is going to be next month. I’m thinking of doing a two-parter. One part is gathering a bunch of friends and doing an informal workshop on Your Best Year Yet – a book I’m reading right now that would be great to do with a group. And then retire to Buca di Beppo for big friggin’ dinner. We’ll see.
Then there was the carnage. Before all my friends came over, Ron and I were doing last minute preparations and I reached to get a plate and it fell out of the cabinet and broke five glasses – broken glass all over the kitchen. One shard hit my foot and I started bleeding on the floor. Remember the Holy Thursday where Andy was hospitalized for blood loss? The Jaws of Life, alas, were not needed.
I think this may be an exclusive: Jason Seitz is an actor with an excruciatingly bad online resume. Check out the advice section where he reminds all that: YOU ARE A STAR.
I just got a raise! 3.5%! Rock on!
Rolling out the new templates over the text couple-a days… the side-bars are back!
I did squats on Tuesday evening and I can barely get down a flight of stairs without looking like I’m doing some sort of dance.
The pilot light in my oven has been out for about two weeks now. I didn’t think much of it and kept windows cracked open to keep things aired out until I could call the landlord. But, of course, that got lagged behind. Meanwhile my fire alarm had burned out it’s battery so I replaced it and it continued to chirp – even with a new battery. So I’d take the battery out before I went to bed so I didn’t have to hear the chirp all night. So yes, I’m sleeping in an apartment with a gas leak and no fire alarm. It gets better.
I’d noticed a musty smell whenever I entered my apartment – I’d open the door and smell it and then it’d be gone – I just assumed it was some sort of dry rot in the door jam – but it always went away once the door opened.
Yes, I’m that fucking clueless.
It wasn’t until last night, having burger night at Jury’s with Brigitte, that I put 2 and 2 together. Brigitte is big on fire safety and her eyes almost fell out of her head when I told her I’d let the pilot light remain unlit for nearly two weeks. Then I figured out the smell when I entered the apartment was the gas trying to seep out the front door and that’s why it always concentrated when I opened the door and then stopped. I also felt dumb that I hadnt’ really tried to find the pilot light in the oven – it was underneath – by the drawer that pulls out. I’m having an Easter-egg dyeing party tonight. Remember the Easter all of Andy’s friends died in a ball of fire? Remember when Andy burned his face off on Holy Thursday? Remember when we all had to have reconstructive surgery to repair our incinerated faces and we all looked the same. Remember that, Matt? (I’m Karen!)
So I got home and opened up the house to air it out and went to Walgreens and got a fire starter thingy and came back and carefully lit the pilot light. Remember when the guy that’s in Mensa blew up his apartment?
Sometimes, I’m a real dumb-ass.
________’s sister recently went to the doctor and was diagnosed with HP – not Hewlett-Packard – human papillomavirus (what they smear your pap for). The docs went in an froze a section of sister’s cervix to slough off cells for testing. Yes. Froze. Cervix. Slough. I don’t know about you, but every time I hear the world ‘slough’ I think of loofahs or shucking corn. They did this to her Stuff. As _______ said, ‘when my sister told me that, I couldn’t feel my legs.’
Realized I totally forgot to chronicle the night that dad, Heather and I got E. T. home. We had the Atari 2600 game that was such a failure that season that it later was dumped into landfills. But I think mom was just coming in the driveway with Moby Dick’s fish (we nearly always ate fish on Friday – we called it ‘dick-burgers’) and we had spent over an hour playing the game. And finally we got E. T. home. The ship came down and he ascended into the heavens to sit at the right hand of the Lord. We were hugging and screaming and laughing we were so overjoyed.
And the deep fried breaded fish was wonderful.
Happy to report that E.T. does indeed still get his sweet ass home. Brigitte and I went to see it last night and it remains triumphant film-making. I bet if the movie were made today that they wouldn’t let E.T. die – that pussy-marketers would consider that plot element too traumatic… the kids were rowdy for the first hour but once the shitstorm starts nobody said a damn word. The CG-effects added in compliment the film for the most part – though one or two times the creature moves too fast to match the expert puppetry of the original. And I keep trying to think up lyrics to the theme song: ‘E. T.! The muthafuckin’ spaceman… got his sweet ass ho-o-ome! La la lalalala la la!’ Surely somebody has already done this. Note to dad: Do we still have my Speak and Spell? Sell that baby on Ebay… and I hope we still have that E.T. trashcan I had in my bedroom forever.
Did anybody catch South Park this week? I watched it three times – to hear Cartman on Maury Povich with a tube top, turqoise eyeshadow and pink fingerless gloves say: ‘Whut-evah! I’ll do what I wun’! I ran for congress. And won. I had sex with an intern. Killed her and hid her body. I’ll do what I wan’!’ and then ‘Whut-evah! I’ll digitally re-insert Jabba the Hutt in the first Star Wars movie, I’ll do whut I wun’!’ Totally hysterical. And that Butters kid with a nutsack on his chin. One of the funniest things Cartman has ever said is: ‘Tom Hanks couldn’t act his way out of a nutsack.’ Nutsack is such a fun word to say.
Matt was in town this weekend for a voice/speech conference so we had dinner on Friday… he’s trying to decide if he is going to stay at Indiana University one more year or do as planned and come back to Chicago. I hope he comes back here.
Planning has begun for the cross-country extravaganza where-in Karen, Brigitte and myself drive across this blessed nation on our way to San Diego. We want to stop in Denver and Las Vegas. Ron was in Vegas this week on layover and said the Van Gogh/Gaugin exhibit that we missed in Chicago is there so maybe we can have a weekend there in a few weeks.
Totalled up all of my receipts for last year. I feel much better about not having lots of savings when I think of how much I spent on my plays in March, rolfing, acupuncture, boxing and paying off my desktop machine. Much much better. I lost a huge chunk of change on my plays (as I knew I would) – it was just important to me to get them produced. And it’s crazy how I can map out my year by my receipts.
No Ron for about five days – he’s working hardcore and got in at 2:30 this morning and might have to fly again today. I think the time apart is a good thing. I have enjoyed not spending any time in Boystown and sort of re-centering with my usual cadre/cabal.
Brigitte started coaching with my colleague Dara this weekend. I love Dara and knew that they’d be a great match… I think Karen moving is a good way to shake us all up a bit and get us on the move to get our house(s) in order and make It happen.
As part of my coaching commitments from two weekends ago, I committed to having 10 celebrations of my progress in the next year. I’d said four but Christina said, ‘How bout 10?’ and before I knew it I’d committed. This is part of my effort to stop and celebrate how far I’ve come and to sort of mark milestones. I’ve always had trouble celebrating progress – I’d rather get on to the next thing.
Was singing ‘Mr. Cellophane’ from Chicago this morning. I need to get back in a musical again. Miss that.
Matt got an anarchy A tattooed on his elbow – he cracks me up – he was talking about getting raised tattoos where you brand the skin first so the scar raises up and then you get the tattoo on the scar tissue. Goddamn that sounds painful! It’d be like pressing my arm on a George Foreman grill.
Amid my receipts from last year I found a free flight on Southwest voucher that expires in a week so I called mom and dad and I’m flying home for Easter after all!
Hey friends… sitting here on a Friday afternoon. Have to help run a presentation in an hour or so and then have to stick around until 4:00 to help put away hardware from a meeting. Nothing much to report. I’m trying out a cyclical ketosis diet this week. Basically you eat no carbs for five days and then two days of carb loading then back no carbs. I’m hoping this’ll help me drop my body fat percentage. I’m trying not to be panicky or nutty about it but just focus on eating lots of proteins and fat and let everything else fall into place. I should be in ketosis right now – though it’s supposed to give you freakish breath and make your piss smell – nothing yet – but this is day three. Maybe I’m getting body-obsessive… I jsut feel like I’ve come so far physique-wise that I should go all the way. If I didn’t gain much more muscle and just dropped fat for the summer I’d be happy. We’ll see what happens. Stay tuned.