I can't imagine who would send Adam all these texts. Hmm.

Well, Betty has popped another air mattress. X Betty.

Suprise is made of plush. And yes, his name is spelled "Suprise." Because that is how you say it when you talk to him.

Or how anybody ever says the word "surprise."

It is cold and rainy today. I embarked for brunch with one of my roommates and his friend Richard wearing my new soft pink beret and soft pink scarf and soft pink t-shirt in an effort to combat the weather conditions. No. After my shower will immediately change into all navy colors and dense fabrics. Maybe some snow boots.

Lola Lola Mashed Potola just walked by me. This is only worth noting because that means she was in my room and I didn't know about it.

What did I do yesterday.

Well, yesterday was Halloween actually, but I felt like we had Halloween the day before and yesterday was just brutal wasteland aftermath.

Hannah rang me up and proposed having a jaunt with various friends to Kings Dominion on Friday night. This sounded great. I like roller coasters a lot. Especially going on ones that are very intense and then acting calm about it. Makes me feel like I've really gone above and beyond. Above and beyond what I don't know. Maybe above my imagination and beyond all realm of sanity.

But lately, roller coasters have begun to turn my stomach. Just a hair. But enough for me to notice and think, "oh x. this is what adults say about roller coasters- they make them sick in ways they didn't when they were young."

Oh well. Stuff like that actually happens. Like seeing college students and wondering if they are on a field trip from middle school.

So anyway. I was excited. Then Hannah follows up with a text proposing Ashland Berry Farm instead. So I peruse the website. According to the website Hannah is throwing over plans for roller coasters and funnel cake in preference of sitting under a gazebo drinking Earl Gray and gazing at tea-lights.

I call her immediately.

She informs me about the famed haunted hayride that goes down Octobers at said Berry Farm.

I AGREE we should go.

So I issue invitations to pretty much everyone I see.

Everyone seems pretty excited. Yvonne says she will not go. She is the first person to arrive.

We begin the evening by The Droops and I having our ritual Mexican date (with the lovely addition of Anna) at El Toro Loco. We like this. It is always a game to see just how many jackets I have to bring to be able to endure dinner without coming down with gangrene.

Also a game to see how to get any single person on the waitstaff to actually bring Maggie a side of sour cream.

We are getting pretty good at both of these games.

Adam and I always find a good handful of babies in there that are nice to stare at. We both have that creepy proclivity toward chewing on fat baby cheeks.

I have decided that when Margaret and Adam have a kid, I should try to work out a kid at about the same time so that he and I can go to the baby costume store and buy 365 baby costumes. One for every day of the year. He likes it when babies are vegetables. I think this is good. A baby dressed as a zucchini. You cannot go wrong. And my baby will be things like, a scrapbook. A bag of granola. An ottoman. A dulcimer. And of course, the requisite tubby round things like a persimmon and the earth. So many costumes.

Really mad about my flat mattress.

So we eat. Then the three of them go off to "Souvenir," and I go home to try on necklaces and sing heart-wrenching love ballads from "Chess" while I wash the frying pan.

Then it is time to meet over at Hannah's.

We meet.

We go. We drive all together in a tour van. Which was fun and I probably shouldn't go into.

I love riding in the backs of trucks. Lying down and looking at the sky as you drive.

But we get there. I have no idea where we are. It is a huge forest. There is mist hovering three feet above the ground as far as you can see. And a drizzle. Just enough of one so that it takes hours to actually become damp. Perfect Halloween.

Also the entire human race.

Line for 3.5 hours. No kidding.

I squat, I tap dance, I make conversation with people I don't know. Desperate times, you know.

We go on the hayride. The hay is damp and it is dark. It is midnight by the time we get in the wagon.

We are driven out a curving dirt path and dropped off to wait in another line. We decide this is the only way the people running this outfit can get the patrons to wait in lines this long. By shipping them out into the middle of the woods and having them resume line at that time.

The line curves through the fog and mist up to a giant bonfire. Everyone gets to the bonfire and then like lemmings, gullible lemmings, all crowd around and stare into the flames.

I, however, have read lots of books and therefore trust the motives of no one and no thing, and am fully aware that this bonfire is a device to cause your eyes to become adjusted to bright light. So then, when you enter the woods, you SEE X.

And are thusly super more freaked out.

I feel very much like a wise old special agent standing in the rain silently thinking about this.

We go into the woods. I am recruited to go first by all parties involved. Well, that's not true. Matt goes first right up until the entrance to the trees. He "goes first" by executing a very sprightly "Off to see the wizard" step.

Then I go first.

Determined (for some bizarre completely uncalled for reason) to prove I am not scared, I stride briskly along. I have enveloped my entire body in a "THINGS ARE GOING TO TRY AND SCARE YOU AND YOU WILL. NOT. FLINCH." attitude. I think, "this is silly. It is ok to be startled." But then it becomes a game. See if I can NOT flinch.

I don't. There are dark black mazes where there is only space enough to crawl. Everyone is shrieking and carrying on. Most of the people in my group are actors so I realize we are spoiling all the fun of the workers there by commenting to them when they try and scare us, "Oh wow- that was really convincing. Well played."

We are so smug.

Then we get back in the van and I fall almost asleep. Then we are stopped and I pop my head up over the window and see that we have arrived at a Waffle House in somewhere I have certainly never been before.

We sat at the bar in a row. And I didn't say anything. I was a. tired, and b. absolutely in awe of the expediency with which the staff of this Waffle House fried and waffled and added and wrote. Think that level of productivity must be very satisfying.

Then we go home.

3 a.m.

SLEEP.

The next morning feel like I have just come back from sky-diving without the parachute.

We all straggle up to rehearsal clutching with white knuckles our various coffee mugs and enormous bottles of caffiene.

Rehearsal was fun. We danced. I really like the Magic Foot choreography. And the pas de deux choreography. They look great. Whenever I see pas de deux's I want to do a dance where a man picks me up in a pretty fancy lift and I point my foot. And cast down my lashes and all that hooey.

Matt Shofner and I see Katrinah in the Rite Aid. This was very exciting for the two of them. Less so for me, as I see Katrinah all the time.

We all go home to GET READY.

Adam and Anna have painted themselves and look incredible.

Margaret is a zebra and looks incredible.

I am Rainbow Brite and certainly look very colorful. Was such a fun outfit.

I pass out some candy on an awesome porch (see- I did get to sit on a porch and enjoy it) on Rosewood Ave. Very sweet children. Who, as they were not born then, find Rainbow Brite to be a rather intimidating figure.

Ellie and Jon, as usual, have an excellent party.

Excellent cast at the party.

I peeled a bullet hole off of the forehead of Chris Stewart.

Then I drove Pocahontas home.

This morning we went to Galaxy. I ordered a chocolate milk, which I housed. In two swallows.

I think, perhaps when one enjoys something this much, one should slow down and savor it. And I think that's valid. But sometimes I think, just get as much as you can as fast as you can and LOVE it.

When the exhausted waitress with her dreadlocks (which I learned today were initially grown so God would have something to grab onto when he reached down out of the sky to snatch you up- which I feel is not saying very much for these people's opinions of God's athletic skills) arrived with my platter o' pancakes, I see how thick and porky they are and bounce in my booth like an excited 2-year old. This, I notice, makes the exhausted waitress smile.

The three of us finish the Brick crossword.

We are now sitting in the den.

And I have to dry my hair and go to "Youno's." This is how my mom pronounces "Uno's."

Then.....Mad Men?

I have never done all out on Halloween like that. It was fun. I now have freckles.

I can't see.

I was not expecting anyone at home to be awake when I got here.

They are.

Adam and Anna are sitting in the den in the mood lighting having DISCUSSIONS.

Which they are kindly allowing me to be privy to as I am sitting on the couch beside Adam typing this.

When Betty touches my toes, it tickles.

Tonight was awesome.

Today- I was crabby because I can't see. But I ordered some new glasses online today for wicked cheap and I am very excited about that.

But tonight. I ate my Fiber 1 bar, ate the last birthday cupcake, because, it's mine, and someone has to.

I washed my hair, dried my hair, curled my hair, painted and dried my nails, got all dolly, and trotted off to rehearsal. It really is most lovely walking through the van in this day and time.

The leaves are SPLENDID.

I receive a pleasant surprise of a phone call on my way there, so I have a very nice chat, and arrive and sit on the sidewalk to wait til it is time for rehearsal.

We go in.

Tonight we danced. I really like everyone in this cast. And I am so excited about that. I think we are going to have a splendid time.

We did "Magic Foot." Eric really is bang-on. And so sweet.

Chase was a super ballerina all night.

Matt Shofner and I, after having discovered our proclivity for the "off to see the wizard step," volunteer ourselves to replace two other cast members who were not so gung ho about said step and do our cross downstage. We are very excited about this. Cannot keep the grin off my face when we meet at center.

We also very gungholey (ahaha) volunteer ourselves like shots out of a cannon to be the two people who stand and dance on the top riser of the "omelet bleachers." "Omelet Bleachers," for whoever's information that cares, is what I am going to be calling this show.

Once we get up there though, and Chase has us nimbly skipping up and down the stairs and doing high kicks while jumping in 180 degree circles, I realize in a very faint whisper to myself that perhaps this is not the best idea to be doing when I have in only one contact- ergo- no depth perception.

Oh well, life's an adventure.

Ford spends the entire evening subtly encouraging (read: violently threatening under his breath) me to only cross upstage of him at any time that our paths should cross. He said, "Audra, I am THIS CLOSE..." you know, when you hold your thumb and pointer finger very close together. I say, "to what, Ford?"

He has nothing to say to this.

Yvonne did her split tonight. Aly and I experienced dropped jaws.

I suggest to Eric that as a killer final pose for his big number that he end on the button with a bell kick. And freeze it in mid-air.

He gamely tries. As he is wont to do. He's such a good little wont gamer.

Sandy has the flu. Want badly to bundle her into a snuggie and submerge her in a carton of soup until she feels better.

Steve and Rick sit at the table with both matching plaid and furrowed brows.

Then they laugh, every now and then.

We all decide via mutters between dance instructions that we are starving and should adjourn to Joe's post-play-practice.

Aly, David, Chase, Yvonne, Matt and I go.

And it was really very nice. I enjoyed myself. Love that I enjoy myself conversing with people.

I used to think that I was the sort of person who would prefer to be all by myself most of the time. That I would thrive in that way.

But I think I am realizing like a tidal wave, that it is so very important for me to be around lots of different interesting people. For so many reasons. I think that makes me feel great. And I think, is very important.

Unless I am reading. Then you leave me alone.

We have a ceramic taupe colored duck who is for casseroles who we have named Knox. He has been full of candy corn pumpkins lately, but Adam and I have no shame re our gluttony in that regard, so he has been effectively gutted.

Adam is about the business of drugging the cat. YAY!

I have discovered that- well, first of all- I have heard of contact high, or is it contact buzz? When you are around people who are stoned or something and you sort of pick up on it? Well, I haven't experienced that, but if I am around people who have been/are drinking, I instantly begin to feel loopy and giggly. Without touching a drop. Which I think will prove to be a very amusing, enjoyable trait.

I love that this apartment has a record player. And a heap of records to play on it. Love that. Sitting around playing records.

The cat is getting high.

Rosalitas got high, and then she became cranky and bald on her fanny. But she was always cranky. Only loved Matt.

Matt Shofner moves so well.

Tomorrow night. :) I have rustled up QUITE a posse. And I'm very excited.

Many members of the posse are excited as well. Some in the- I think I will need to wear a diaper- excited kind of way.

Peanut.

Anyway,

This morning I slept in- which was rough, as I am no longer acclimated to that. But I forced myself through it. :)

I got up, ate my toast, showered, and puttered off to the airport. Where I go all the time now. I am a professional airport goertoer.

And it is a slammingly beautiful day. Blue, orange, red, yellow. Sigh love.

I pick up Anna. Who reminds me of a small expensive Thai doll. Very expensive. Has the sort of skin that could have been peeled right off a pricey mahogany dining room table.

She is wearing fuschia lipstick.

I deliver her to the apartment, fully intact, and buzz instantly down to the Mill, where I cover myself in sawdust and rainwater for three hours until I unearth a box of bridles Tom and I borrowed from Dr. Debby and needed to return.

I am asked out on a date.

I am turned down by my walking buddy.

Tom and I go to the clinic to drop off the bridles. We then take a lovely scenic turn through Blanford Cemetery. Which is much more expansive than it appears from the road. Cemeteries I feel to be rather peaceful places. I decide that if I ever have a child, sometime before it pops out I will take a lengthy stroll through some cemeteries and locate some amazing old-fashioned name on some tombstone with which to label my child.

Saw one headstone for- no kidding- Light Lewis Leavenworth.

Betty's ear is in my nose.

We then eat lots of things we are not supposed to tell Paul about because he is currently devoting himself to hunting the elusive mozzerella.

We push a red button at the Sonic that is labeled- CORNDOGS. I am secretly hoping that when we push this button a corndog will shoot out of some slot on the order board.

Delicious burgers.

Then a pumpkin blizzard. I tell Tom as we stand at the counter that I am secretly wanting to try this one. We both agree that it doesn't look very good. He says I should go ahead and get something I know I will like. I decide to get the pumpkin thing so that then I won't still be wondering if I would have liked it and then have to go back and get another one.

And I am glad I did so. Very convoluted. Proud of myself.

Must now shower. Lengthily. And have my stroll to play practice.

Walking around here is so lovely right now.

Previous two Mad Mens. At once.

Well, I have discovered EXACTLY what I want to be for Halloween. And I have found the EXACT costume. In an EXACTLY convenient store. And it costs EXACTLY too much money for me to justify spending on a Halloween costume with my brand new responsible financial outlook.

I wanted to cast myself into the floor and scream and kick and wail at the injustice of it all.

It is a pluperfect Rainbow Brite costume. And it comes in a plastic bag at the Halloween Mega-Store that is currently where the CVS is supposed to be by the Barksdale.

Oh well. I have decided something brilliant for me to be for Halloween will drop into my life just in time for the throwdown.

Also I have to find my black corset for Matt.

Today I was walking up some street practicing my new assignment of smiling at people I pass on the street. I have had good results with this so far. And this woman I smiled at stopped and said, "Audra?" And I recognized her as the small woman who lives where Jim used to live and has a horrible contorting speech impediment. And is so sweet. I should have said the sweet part first. I mention the speech impediment because I am always so pleasantly surprised that I can understand what she is saying to me enough to have a conversation. I don't like it when I cannot understand what people say, and I think that is largely my fault when it happens. But for some reason, I can get the gist of everything this lady says. She told me all about how she was coming to see Spelling Bee, and she had heard it was supposed to be really funny, and that she was going to go see Boleros but didn't because she thought it was going to be a musical and a good friend of hers was in the hospital dealing with leukemia at the time and thusly she didn't feel like going to see anything sprightly and upbeat.

I then told her I had to go sign a paper for Lucas and we parted ways.

Love Lucas. He's great.

I then drooled on my hat.

Had a lovely rehearsal this evening.

Going to the airport in the morning.

Do you know they make diet bread? Hmm.

Anybody want that concert ticket- time is ticking.

Kisses?

I like that Natalie girl on "Love, Actually." I like that she has a high pitched girl voice.

Might have a crack at that voice.

I want to go to Hooters.

I want to go to Buz and Ned's.

I want to be taken to the movies.

I want to go fishing (and have today been invited to do so, so that's lovely).

I want to take salsa/ballroom dancing classes.

I want to play "Devil Went Down to Georgia" on the fiddle.

I think it is an amazing thing to be able to play the organ.

My birthday was lovely.

I held Suprise in my lap.

I painted my fingernails traffic cone orange and wore a hot pink belt.

I want to drink a beer. Don't know where that came from. I like the smell, not as much the taste.

I should go get a beer from somewhere and open it and set it on the counter next to me and just sniff periodically. Like a Yankee candle.

It was a beautiful day yesterday. And today. As I am getting a little worn down these past couple of days with up at 5:30 in the morning and bed a little post-midnight, I was a touch snarly this morning at 6:30 when I got into the car, but then I rounded the corner by the Diamond, and the sky was a miracle to behold. It was lava. Just, dark, thick purple night sky, then, just above the horizon, thin flaming strip of lava color. Amazing.

And I continued to be happy and gaze at the sky all the way to the Chippenham Parkway, at which point I got to a song on my 2000 Grammy Winners CD that I didn't like and had to turn my attention to finding "Baby One More Time."

I love that CD. I have a large white cardboard box in the floor of a closet in my parents' house with all the CDs I listened to in high school. I have been taking a few each time I have been home lately.

This one is tops. Has Backstreet Boys, Santana, Christina Aguilera, TLC "No Scrubs." All in all, I feel pretty freaking hip as I motor down the freeway applying my chapstick.

Yesterday during set up, Tom announces to me that my cake is in the passenger seat of his car. I squeal and beam. Tom is the best cake baker EVER. It was round, chocolate, two-tier with buttercream icing and those tiny colorful sprinkles that are round. I gaze at it a lot.

He asks me what time I was born. I tell him I think around 9:30am. Then add that I don't remember.

Then realize, of course I don't remember.

We giggle about this.

Then Tom says he actually finds this surprising. He would have expected nothing less than me making my first appearance, giving my mother an arch look and muttering, "well Mother, I really think that took longer than was necessary."

Between shows Joy and I make plans to get giant boxes of salad from Ukrops and take in a couple of episodes of "Sex and the City."

I wait on her porch for her to get back from popping by Sean's school.

Whilst sitting on the porch, I receive lots of wonderful birthday messages. I think how grateful I am for all the lovely people in my life and for the beautiful day, and suck all the icing off the sides of the cake. So really there's not much better than that.

It is warm enough to walk to rehearsal, so I do that, and enjoy it.

I am presented with two more EXCELLENT--ICE CREAM cakes at rehearsal. Also balloons. And cards.

We watch "Spellbound." Which I very much enjoyed, until it got near the end and I found myself leaning forward in my chair feverishly trying to come up with the correct spellings of the words the competitors get before they start spelling. This was exhilarating. And I got the last word right. Which delighted me. All this going on inside my head.

We sing. Which I love.

Saturday I am off. So I have decided I will do all the things on Saturday that I would like to do for my birthday this year. Think I will pop in on Hannah while she's tending bar at her new job. Think I will gather up a motley posse at hit the Celtic Festival.

And who knows what else. But it will be wonderful.

I need apostrophe rehearsal.

I think I may have single-handedly removed all the finish and 1/8th of wood from the O'Willard's sitting room floor in the middle of the night. Not my fault. Also haven't heard a word about it. And Ginnie is never one to shy away from words about it.

So yesterday was the Awards.

Shivering, chattering and dripping from the nose, I bang into the apartment a little after noon.

I am stopped in my tracks (literally- second time in three weeks a man has done that to me- different man last time) by the sight of Adam sitting on the couch in his tux.

Adam is one of those men that are in stories. The dark, jaw, brood, smolder, all that squash. The man has it.

I gathered myself together within seconds and proceeded to sit on the floor and whine and wail about how whenever I have to get all dressed up (which I secretly love, let's be honest, but just need more practice doing so I don't get stressed about it) I seethe for hours just before and during.

I paint my fingernails. I am bad at this. Better yesterday than ever before though. And four layers of polish, one layer of setting goop and one layer of Gray Poupon later, I think I am pretty set. I nimbly bounce into the kitchen to retrieve my cup of tea and grip it firmly with great delight. I sip it, burn my tongue, decide I am a big fan of Maggie's Blue Whale Fin Natural Tooth Sweetner, and set my cup down. I have of course ruined the polish on all the fingers of my right hand.

Again.

Maggie and I have a serious discussion involving planners and ovulation charts regarding the times and windows of opportunity in which it would be most opportune to take our showers and straighten our hair, curl our hair, curl our lips, etc.

Adam leaves immediately to go to the Hair Cuttery.

We have showered and have just finished re-wiring the circuit breakers we have blown blow-drying our respective mops when we receive EMERGENCY HIGH ALERT RED ALARM FACEBOOK MESSAGE from Joy re Derek's contraction of the swine flu and the cancellation of that evening's performance of "Easy Street."

I regard Maggie with a dark look for a few moments as she snuggles down into the couch under a blanket in her slipper socks with her kitten and her cocktail while I embark out into the cold to attempt to keep my fingers off of everyone and everything I see so I will be intact for the evening.

The rehearsal was lovely and low key. I sat with Tom and bickered like crackers in the second row the entire time. One of my favorite activities.

Jen Meharg looked amazing at the rehearsal. And at the event.

I am escorted to the podium with a man's hand VERY FIRMLY on my back. Was really no need for such firm escortedness. I can walk. Is fine. He probably thought I was fourteen, much like the woman in the lingerie section of Macy's last week who asked me what size training bra I would like.

I then drive back to the apartment. TO GET READY.

After I remember that I can talk to Adam and he is not a poster, I recruit he and Margaret into the bathroom with me and every curling iron and bobby pin in the house.

We have done extensive internet research for at least four minutes on how to accomplish the hairstyle I want to wear.

We take the computer and our cocktails into the bathroom. We all stand. We may as well have scrubbed in. Deep breaths.

This is sort of like sending Wendy Vandergrift, Dawn Westbrook and Eric Pastore into a linen closet with a sheep and telling them not to come out until the sheep has been transformed into a vibrator.

Many pins and grunts and sharp sucked in breaths of trepidation later, we empty an entire can of hairspray onto my head and move on to the makeup. I can do most of this by myself now. With great thanks to Robyn O., Robin Harris-Jones, The Debra, and countless others who have massaged powder into my cheeks and eyelids over the years in the dressing room. Maggie instructs me on curling my eyelashes. We do this. Relatively pointless. My eyelashes are a lot like five o'clock shadow.

We doll ourselves up. Adam takes pictures of Margaret and I being lewd in front of the door. And of us being cheery and peppy in front of the door.

We are picked up.

We arrive, narrowly avoiding running over the parade of pink skirts across Adams on the way to the Empire.

So many lovely wonderful people looking lovely and wonderful in the lobby. It was FUN.

I had a blast. The singing was thrilling. The music, the lights, the mikes, the crowd. Ahhhhhh.

I swished my hips a lot on purpose. Felt very giddy and daring to do this.

Robyn O'Neill is a fabulous date.

I am asked for my number by a man who walks on his arms perhaps more than he walks on his feet.

When I was called to go onstage, I thought as I approached the stairs, "my goodness. what is going to happen now is that i am going to trip up these stairs, then say something bumbling and weird that is going to cause tom to take a big bite out of the seat back in front of him, and perhaps even slur a word. or two."

These thoughts are a result of the two cocktails I had had. Was in no way drunk. But have certainly never attempted public speaking in front of, you know, 700 people anything but completely rested, nervous, and sober.

Speaking in front of people as Audra used to TERRIFY me. But much much less so now. And I am very very glad about that. Want to do it some more.

I will have to see about creating some more opportunities to that end, perhaps.

We then, and by we I mean everyone in the southeastern portion of the USA, went to the White Dog.

We then left and went somewhere where we could sit down.

I then went to sleep and slept soundly until about 3:30 am when I was jolted awake by a horrendous (and my first) calf cramp. BIG X.

And felt it and felt it. Could find no where on my leg that felt hard or needed pressing. But it went away eventually.

Woke up this morning.

Went to get my phone charger.

Visited Essie. Essie sassing everyone in the hospital and knowing exactly what she wants. This is reportedly big progress from this morning.

The sky was so beautifully blue today, against the leaves. It doesn't matter if it is cold when it is beautiful.

I am off to rehearsal shortly. I am going to walk. And go by 7-11 to have another crack at the coffee thing. I've decided to try the darker roast to see if that counters the watery-ness.

I'm excited about rehearsal. Good people.

And I'm excited about Magicthedebra tomorrow.

And I'm excited about a lot of things.

And that's exciting.

Ain't life grand. Also, my coffee is really not tasting like I want it to. Further analysis and experimentation of creamer/sugar ratio required.

I am, in a very consistent fashion, acquiring a runny nose. Just this time last year I had a crippling runny nose. I brought it with me to the illustrious awards ceremony. There was I, my glitter studded formal gown, my fierce red pumps, my hairspray, mascara and my roll of Charmin.
Was hoping to avoid that final accessory this year. Ah well. We'll see how quickly this progresses.
Might just be running because IT IS COLD. IT IS GOING TO SNOW. Before noon.
I think it is probably not actually that cold. It is more the fact that, last Friday, I was frolicking merrily through the fan (which today smells like old fish) and strolling around the lake wearing not much more than deoderant and elastic feeling warm and breezy. And today I am wearing all of my clothes.
This is because I have realized I do not have any of my cold weather clothes at Adam and Maggie's. (Adam? Apostrophe? You may rap my knuckes if I've erred.)
As a result I am wearing my jeans, my orthopedic shoes (for massive rubber content=insulation), socks, my threadbare Honaker Redbud Festival T-shirt, my enormous UVA sweatshirt, a red fleece winter vest, my dinosaur and lizard mittens, a sky blue scarf which was lovely and is now stained with what appears to be antique urine, and a giant thick bright blue and orange toboggan cap with a puff on top that Sam gave me.
Because one day in September all we did was give each other hats.
After I type this I am going to look up the phone number for the 7-11 in the fan across from Cafe Diem. For I was rude to the counter lady and am going to apologize. I wasn't just rude for fun, there was a misunderstanding. Nonetheless. Am a little excited about phoning up a 7-11. Feel like only grown-ups get to do that. And CIA agents.
Robyn and Ginnie are at the beach. Because that seems like a good idea. I wondered aloud to Robin Arthur this morning why in the world anyone would go to the beach in this weather. She made several good points I hadn't thought of. But those are her points, and alas, not mine to relay.
As a result of this beach trip, I have been hired on to keep a watch on Scott Melton for two days.
Cagey bugger. Highly suspicious activity at all hours.
So, I am growing what could be anything from a zit to a zucchini on the inside of my right eyelid.
I know this because for the past week, no matter how rigorously and thoroughly I scrub my contact, after it has been in my eye for thirty seconds, it slides off center. And I try and try to put it back. Will not stay. Can, as a result, see only 70% of everything. Which makes me feel like it is imperative that I go to bed. Always when I can't see, my mind decides it must be sleepy.
Anyway, with shrewd deductive reasoning I have determined that there is surely a foreign body inside my eye that is shoving my contact off course.
I bring this up to Tom yesterday between shows in the hope that he can rectify the problem and I will be able to see everything for show number two, thus decreasing my odds of falling off the stage or lighting a child on fire.
He peers into my lower brainular area, says he cannot see anything, but that what "they" do in these situations is to put a pencil on the eyelid and roll the eyelid backwards over this pencil to see underneath. Then they will cut or rip off the offending object. This sounds good to me.
He makes no move to do so. I tell him to go ahead.
He will not. Squeamish.
I love Tom. Tom and my brother both able to make me laugh very hard and spontaneously by saying things that, ordinarily, I would not find that funny.
Went to the Cracker Barrel in Fiddlesquat, Virginia last week for lunch with, ahem... Joy Williams aka Drifty the Snowman, Paul Deiss, and THE DEBRA. Shouldn't really talk about that.
Just kept thinking how interesting and wonderful life is.
Apparently some man in the Colonial Heights Walmart took Tom aside late one night last week and told him that he had the hots for Pepita.
This is just the sort of thing I like to hear. Really.
I am in the mood for going to the movies.
Alright. I must look up phone number and how to make my hair lovely for the event. When I arrive in a calico bonnet everyone will know why.