It's been an unproductive last week or so. There are several things I need to do and to schedule, but I'm just not interested yet. I need to schedule my rehearsals for Midsummer, and as soon as I do that I have to send another schedule to scene-partner Kamilah with whom I do not wish to do a scene.
My reluctance is not without reason. As soon as I begin with things, they will have to be dealt with. Tasks can lie in a vauge limbo until I begin on them because starting one thing means that everything else will start jumping up and down demanding "Do me NOW!" like neglected housewives. I just don't know if I want to deal with that right now. (For any femenists who may show indignation, I am a chick myself- it doesn't bother me.)
The whole Ask For a Car For Christmas Because Don't I Deserve One? thing didn't go down very well. The grown ups don't really see how they can spring for one. It is finacially impossible for me to pay car payments next year, and pay rent, as well as being able to afford the basic elements of survival. The concept of living off condiment packets has been considered, but does not seem especially exciting or, to be honest, sustaining.
Sue�o opens soon. This is a take on La Vida Est Sue�o, which is akin to Hamlet in the Spanish culture. Essentially, a king learns of a prophesy that his soon-to-be-born son will turn out an awful monster. In order to stop the prophecy from coming true, the king locks his son in a tower for twenty odd years. Later, he is let out of the tower and (duh) has become the monster. Fun times.
Friend David is telling me about his weekend, including the rescue of his drunken ex-girlfriend Haley. The moral of the story without all the details? Kids, if you're going to drink underage, especially if you ship out to boot camp in ten months, be careful. At least make sure you remember your purse and your shoes when you run from the cops. Payback for your friend having to drive half an hour there and back to rescue you could involve a chicken suit, or worse.