to say nothing of the dog

Friday, December 03, 2004

Incoherent Shrieking

The post under this post is The Play. It starts in a WEEK. I need to do, like, five million and a half things for it, and I've got today and tomorrow to do them in.

In other rage and paranoia inducing weirdness, the day after Thanksgiving saw me cuddled with my boy, watching Bonnie and Clyde, when I got a phone call. An anonymous phone call! Yay! Anonymous Phone Call Woman asked how I was doing, I told her (living in New York, graduated acting school, engaged), her voice got weird, and asked if I had set a date. I said, yes, June, and she said something involving the Lord blessing me, and hung up.

That'd be Adam's ex-girlfriend right there. Yup.

Then I started to get spammed. A lot.

That's not my cup of tea. But, hey! Whatever.

More importantly, the Coyote has NOT called me back about location of thrift stores for costume shopping, and the Moon has a recurring role on Third Watch that shoots before Christmas. My play is before Christmas. This does not fill me with warmth or fuzziness. More fingers of dread clamped around my stomach, maybe. Hey! When everybody's there, the play rocks!


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