No Sleep Till Boystown

The previous tenant of my new apartment must have had a dog. There’s curly dark hair everywhere. Clogging the radiators. Even in the fridge. I’m hoping it’s all dog hair and not pubies. Ecch.

Mom and dad arrive on the morrow. By the time they get here I expect to have the first van-load loaded and ready to go. Ron is pissed as hell – they wouldn’t let him fly back home tonight even though he is ‘illegal’, meaning he has maxed out his hours for the trip – they told him to complain to the union and suck it up. He is pissed and feeling guilty.

My ‘blogging for business’ seminar went well – I only had a handful of people – but that helped me pilot the content before a studio audience. I feel trepidatious about trying to be a big blogging guy. I cringe when the couple of times I’ve been introduced as a ‘blogging guru’. I’m nowhere near the status of the true pioneers of the blogging format. I just like teaching people about how damned cool it is. I like to be more of a techno-evangelist than anything. I’m sure Ron could weep like Tammy Faye.

Looking forward to eating with mom and dad. Don’t forget that I come from a family of big eaters. That has been tuned down lately due to a diabetes affliction (not me). I want to take them to all new restaurants this time around. I think we’ll have a fancy dinner at Yoshi’s. And breakfast at Melrose and/or Stella’s and/or Nookie’s. Also want to eat with them at Ecce and perhaps an Italian lunch at Maggiano’s downtown. They’ll probably hit the museums while I work on Wednesday and Thursday. Actually I jsut realized that they leave Thursday afternoon so maybe I’ll try to weasel a half day of work Thursday and then work another four hours after they fly home.

Killed 2 silverfish today. Shiver and be scared.

I realized that being boxed in by Roscoe as well as Broadway means there’s no street I can walk on looking like hell. Or at least – walking with Ron. He’s very keen on always dressing well and because these streets are high-visibility – I can’t go out looking trashy.

I still think I have too much shit. I’ve decided not to unpack everything initially but go box-by-box. I mean, I did this as I put the stuff in the boxes but I’m sure some stuff has slipped in that I don’t need to transport for the rest of my life. I”m tempted to buy a sheet-fed scanner at Best Buy and scan everything and then return it.

I found my actor notes from my Antigone thesis: “Stop pausing. Unless the script says ‘pause’ do not stop talking. I could drive a truck through some of tonight’s pauses.” I find dialogue very rhythmic – like a whole-body vibration and I say and read a scene out to myself many many times before an actor gets to. Every last comma and period is agonized over. I’d forgotten my tagline for the production: “explodes a story from the heroic past into our neurotic present”. Ever the marketingwhore.

I missed this: National Concealed Carry for Cops legislation has been signed. I’m no expert – but there was a big stink in the Trib today that this essentially stomps on states’ rights. (Trib link requies login – stick to the bastards and use BugMeNot.). I really don’t like the idea of retired cops running around with guns.

The bikram center finally opened up – oh yeah – sweat-your-nuts-off-yoga!

5 thoughts on “No Sleep Till Boystown

  1. Jonny

    Oh, dog hair.. lucky.

    I keep hoping I’ll find something behind the walls in this house of mine (like on HGTV), but so far I’ve only unearthed an old button that says “Vote for Sambo’s Pancakes” — ah well.

  2. palochi

    I remember when I first moved into the neighborhood, I used to have to review what I was going to wear when I was taking out the garbage. I eventually got over it. 🙂

  3. RcktMan

    Welcome to the neighborhood, Andy… although I dont’ actually live there (Andersonville is my home), it’s still da city.

    When I moved into my current apt. There were still bags of shit (not actual shit but “stuff”) left from the previous tenant. I told the landfolk they had to clear it out before I’d sign the lease. They’re *supposed* to do those things for you so you move into a clean home, but sometimes it just doesn’t work out that way. Oh well, enjoy your new pad, and don’t become… too much of a bar whore… *Bwah*… 🙂

  4. Michlt

    I moved into a small house once that was previously occupied by a young fisherman, his girlfriend, baby, and cat. There were fishscales on the light switch plates and cat crap under the bed (which I promptly dumpstered). It took two weeks to clean and paint, but I was young and it was my first house. My excuse is that I had fallen in love with the location — only 500 feet from the very wide and scenic Neuse River in NC. There were no silverfish, but I did have to have to pay a food tax to the ants.

  5. Matthew

    Hey hottie. Glad to read all is well. I am finally back online ! The move went well although now that I am closer to ATL, I kinda feel like a city slicker type of boi. Anyhow, take care and thanks for leaving my link on your site. I promise interesting posts are due shortly.

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