More kittens.

Saw Janine riding her sunny yellow bike home from work today in the drizzle. She's amazing. I love hearing her sing. Eric Williams was going to drive by and attempt to pick her up. 

So three kittens.

Large gray one. Might be a panther. At least 9 years older and more advanced than his siblings. Loves nothing more than to frantically scale the couch and your chest and then perch himself on your rack and tenderly reach one paw up to cradle your face. All the while gazing with great concern into your eyes. His name is currently Ouisus. Like Jesus but with the French yes at the beginning. This is due to the fact that I have difficulty pronouncing Juan with a Spanish accent and it sounds more like Hoo Wan when I try. So I have decided that all names beginning in J should feature the "Houi" sound at the front. It is a catchy name for this kitten. Also you can do the Altar Boyz choreography with him in your right hand and then gesture about wildly with him at the appropriate lyric. He has explosive surround-sound bowel movements from time to time. He also weaned himself straight from the bottle to hard food and steak. Love him dearly.

Then there is Maggie's. Maybe. Her name is Betty Draper and that's all there is to it. Due to an incident involving Brett and a piece of trash she took a header off the kitchen counter and as a result looks in many directions at once. This is endearing? 

Betty likes to lie next to you and sleep. Cat. Dullard. Very sweet though. Loves Maggie. Reciprocates the general disregard I feel for her.

SURPRISE!

Surprise is the name of the black creature. Verdict still out on his species with the final three options narrowed down to bat, kitten, and pygmie pygmie cow.

His hair is black with gray undertones and he is SOFT and fluffy and has a tubby tail. He also has the most sturdy set of birthing hips I've seen on anyone in a while. He is light years behind the others in development and looks SHOCKED at all times. He does the Merry Christmas Polka whenever you turn on the dishwasher or dustbuster. He has a very bulbous forehead and walks like Dr. Bailey on Grey's Anatomy. Might craft him a miniscule Ewok suit out of a red mitten or something. Kind of love him as well. Always very cute when anytime you shout "SURPRISE!" a wee black puff comes staggering toward you. He also enjoys seating himself on your foot. Whether you are walking or not.

Have been going to the gym. Enjoy the gym because no one is there who can see. Ginnie and I ride the blazes out of some bikes. She is disciplined enough to do exercises on the bouncy balls but I just end up rolling around and playing whenever I deal with them, so I typically excuse myself to go fiddle around with the weight machines. Took a weight training course in college. That and folk dancing were my gym credits. Hysterical. Cham Pritchard was my instructors name. Spent much more time thinking about that word- Cham- then doing anything else. Is like Ham. Or Chapstick.

Robyn O'Neill sounds amazing at rehearsal. She just stands there and those noises just come out of her mouth. Stands there in pressed slacks, no less.

If anyone knows when the "In the Heights" documentary re-airs, let me know. Looked up when I thought it did, and it wasn't there. Want to see it. I have realized that now when someone asks me what are my dream roles, I have one to lead off with. Usnavi.

Am growing tired of fried chicken. May request baked. Will be happy to go and pick it up myself.

Was a mother for five days last week. To human kittens. Do not need any of those until I am 40. At least. They were exceedingly well behaved. Had extended conversations with the new slipper with eyes named King that Joy keeps out back. Can now perform the entire score to Annie backwards in Italian post-mortem.

The big cat keeps rudely doing his thang in the kittens' litter box. This is an expression of his displeasure. He secretly wants to play with them. But he enjoys the nobility of being long-suffering. 

Today I went to a production meeting. While waiting my turn I drew a picture. Adam was disappointed in me. This is a terrible thing, to have Adam disappointed in me. Will refrain from illustrating production meetings in the future. 

Oh my gosh- forgot- I bottle fed a two week old calf. Was FUN. Was like trying to drag a Buick through polenta. Looked like a deer. Drank a 1/2 gallon of milk in 45 seconds. Then met a bushy kitten who is still not adopted because she cannot get up from lying on her back. This is very comical. Then Debby fed Surprise beer and we went home. 

Must go shower. Drank coffee. Now feel dirty.

Also my citrus stigmata has gone away. Very exciting. Cured by Lisa Kotula's Jergens Hand Lotion.

Only that-

I have very large-pored breasts.

Continued kittens.

In horrible news, my dear Jack Cheese Biscuits is missing. The only thing I can figure is that he fell/jumped/flew off the balcony. But I figure if he was dead I would have found his stiff orange self in the hedge when I got home. Or the neighbors would have. I have put up many signs (very well made by Brett, which is good because mine would have been a pencil sketch) all over the place and gone round to all the vets within a mile or two radius and put them on the lookout. Also craigslist. 

MISS HIM. Have never lost something I was apparently so attached to before. 

But I have not given up. He is pretty crazy and wouldn't know that it should kill him to fall three flights so he probably is scampering around in the sewers giving the rats hell. 

However.

In a very timely move some mother cat had kittens in a prickle bush at SPARC and then left them there. So they are now in a Miller Lite box at my feet drunk and asleep. Yesterday they figured out how to use the bottle. I should lay down a recording of the sucking sounds and pig noises that issue from them. 

There are three. 

One large bushy gray one with rheumatic blue eyes who sticks his tongue out when he sleeps and looks like a koala. He is very vigorous and nurses from everywhere available, like the sofa and my zipper.  He is temporarily named Inappropriate because when I first saw him in his box dying of dehydration he was fighting through the death throes making valiant attempts to nurse off his brother's genitals. I exclaimed "Inappropriate!" So there. Whoever adopts him should probably rename him. Something like Bear. Or Gandolfini.

One small gray one who is apparently a girl and is dainty and likes to mewl and suffer. She always looks like she has a migraine and likes to drape herself pathetically over the nearest side of anything she can stagger to. She is temporarily named Betty Draper due to her suffering. She likes Maggie and Adam a lot. I am relatively disinterested in her.

Then there is a small black thing that might be a bat. He was found way back in the depths of the prickle bushes where his mother had no doubt left him due to his screeching and carrying on. He goes on suicide mission after suicide mission. He is clearly the runt and reminds me of the evil plotting Mogwi that turns into that nasty Gremlin. I like him best. He holds his own bottle when he eats. 

Dirty Dancing is on. I used to love this movie. Now I know what happens so I feel like I am wasting my time watching it.

So anyway. One of the kittens is spoken for- not a specific one, but one.

I am not keeping any of them if I can help it, because clearly if I do, they will turn up dead or vanish in under a year.

Bought the hugest jar of peanut butter I have ever seen the other day. 

I just love opening the windows and listening to the outside. People or birds or parties or rain or whatever. Just LOVE it. 

I'm not cold!

I LOVE mulch. Walking by fresh mulch and smelling makes me feel very happy. I might get some for a potpourri dish in my apartment.

It is a beautiful day. And is supposedly going to be beautiful for as far as the weather forecast pictures go on Yahoo!

I am going to go outside today. Not sure what I am going to do. Maybe Belle Isle. 

My kitten's new most important job that he takes very seriously is to stand on my chest whenever I am lying down and work tirelessly to flatten down my breasts. In the fashion of kneading or "making biscuits" as I have heard it called.

Isn't going to work.  Don't I wish.

Jennings is a genius with reception food selection. Had barbecue and potato salad and cake last night. This girl was very happy.

I am not very into America's Next Top Model this time. I think my into-it-ness has faded progressively with each season. I am loathe to admit this. I was super involved in the Joanie season. And then I had high hopes for each following season but have been disappointed. Isn't that sad. Only Jan will care about this.

I am of a mind to get out my "Annie" video from 4th grade and give it a skim. I had no idea how the entire show went down because I experienced from the perspective of- "put on your wig that doesn't fit....go to the bathroom....change dresses......ask someone to take you to the bathroom.....change coats........where's my dog.....go to the bathroom.....change dresses......oh I have a crush on Daddy Warbucks......change dresses.....oh look my mother got me roses."

My dear family dog Nick played Sandy when I did it. He was stone deaf and old as crust at the time, which worked out well because he had absolutely no interest in doing anything at all except going wherever he was yanked.  He was very very sweet. There are numerous pictures of him standing in our backyard with a long suffering expression on his face while my toddler self or my brother learn to walk by hauling ourselves up on his jowls and ear hair.

Hannah sent me a card in the mail because she is my friend and I would swear up and down the two child models on the front are Norborne and Tilly. Those are some fabulous children.

I am rather thunderstruck by the fact that I have NO PLANS today. Or tonight. I suppose I could go see Trailer Trash Spectacular. Really want to see that. 

Clif bar.

Well, sometimes things happen and you don't like them but as long as you are still alive and can feel the breeze and such there is no reason to get all forlorn about it.  Everyone is in charge of themselves. 

Today I found out where Robin Arthur works. I always pictured Orchard House to be located somewhere over the Nickel Bridge in a field surrounded by willows. Nope. Pretty much on Broad St. Very pretty though. 

I had a three-way at the intersection of Allen and Monument with Robin and David Janeski. 

Details upon further inquiry.

Does anyone know if I am allowed to park a large van in the Fan? I hope so.

The past two days I have gone to bed at a reasonable hour because I did it once and realized that when I woke up and was alert and refreshed at 6am that the world was beautiful and the light was enchanting. And my cats were lying next to my face. 

Today Katrinah and David and I rode to the Mill in pretty much complete silence. Which I found to be lovely. And I found it lovely that I found it lovely. Because so much of the time it can seem awkward if no one is talking, but Trinah was knitting, I was resting, and David had on some cool music that I actually enjoyed. And it was the sort of music that I had never enjoyed before. I am getting more open-minded perhaps? I did do voluntary yard work the other day for hours and hours. 

Who is this new blond chick on 24? Pretty sure she's a bad guy. She is one of those actors who screams "IT IS HARD TO BELIEVE I AM THIS CHARACTER I AM PLAYING BECAUSE I CLEARLY WAS HIRED PARTLY BECAUSE I AM ATTRACTIVE AND HAVE PLUMP LIPS AND A DARLING CHIN!"

I love having the windows open. 

On Friday Adam and Joseph and Perry and I are attending the opening night of "Annie." I have an outfit to wear. 

Sometimes it is very difficult to just be oneself. Very important though.

If ever you are in Kinkos at Libbie Place and you spy a dreadlocked taller man with protruding eyes and patchy skin turn around and leave. Come back later. 

I have been watching "Mad Men." Good stuff. Intriguing because they make situations like folding laundry and getting a flat tire intriguing.

Tuesday.

So my car COMPLETE X.

I was waiting to do a new blog post until I had something interesting to write about besides my peeling my thumbs which is what I have been writing on facebook about.

So here is a tale.

On Tuesday I was driving sprightlily up 95 N on my way to Ben Franklin's to buy little bags for cocaine when I felt something unpleasant on my left side. The something unpleasant turned out to be an eighteen-wheeler that was getting over into my lane with little to no regard for my thoughts on the subject.

He proceeded past me, causing me to spin merrily around in two complete circles, smash into the center median, eliminating two of those green poles from existence, getting hit by something else and then winding up in the right lane facing oncoming traffic. 

I thought as this happened. "Huh. This is unfortunate. I could die. Better try not to flip over."

So after the car stopped, the first thing I noticed was gallons of oily green liquid flowing from my car rapidly onto the road. So I determined it would be best to turn the car off and get out in order to avoid dying a fiery death. I unbuckled, reached over, got my favorite backpack and my stuffed sheep Genevieve and got out. 

Called the police and reclined against the guardrail with a kindly large man named Antoine who had been kind enough to stop and make sure I was alive. He was pretty sure I wasn't. We tsked tsked about the other party involved having kept on driving and he showered me with compliments on my NASCAR driving skills. I got rather puffed up about this. I used to LOVE going to the Days of Thunder ride at Kings Dominion and sometimes narrate aloud to myself as I am driving like I am in a race car. I also sing racing music like Bill Cosby used to when he would race his go-carts.

I digress.

Another very kind gentleman had stopped behind me to make sure no one hit me again. He was driving a big yellow truck so he knew people would see it and go around.

About this time I realized I was missing a gold mine of dramatic effect potential by not taking pictures, so I scampered around the freeway taking shots of the front of my car, which was across the street, my headlight (quarter mile away) and my car itself. Just to show my mom and stuff.

The men kept reassuring me that shortly I would go into shock. I figured I probably would too. Haven't yet. So if I do, it's going to be a doozy.

They this cylindrical man comes wheezing up the road from up ahead and we determine that he is the other driver. He was a WRECK. Terrified I was dead. We got him calmed down and then the police finally arrived in their entirely unnecessary plastic shower caps over their helmets. These policemen CLEARLY thought they were on Law & Order. The older one kept talking to us in a very loud, very slow condescending tone as though he were sure what he was saying to us was going way over our heads. That was obnoxious. Then he got all up in the grill of the kind man who had stopped to check on me and berated him for not having seen exactly what happened. I almost chastised the policeman at that point. 

For the record: I am 99% sure it was not my fault, unless I went blind for a sec, and also, speaking of all up in one's grill, I went to see Monsters vs. Aliens the other night and it was in 3-D and I did not care for it. Unnecessary the movie coming into your seat. I do not need that.

So then I got to sit in the police car with my sheep. There are lots of squawks and beeps and laptops inside a police car. Also a teddy bear in the back with a patrol vest on. This policeman had a very large chin. I nosed over his shoulder to look at how they run the laptops and find out if a driver's license is valid etc. It is touch-screen. Wouldn't like to drive one of those around though.

Then the tow man came, and he leaned down into the window and informed us that his cousin had been shot and killed in Richmond the night before, but that they had found his killer that morning, so that was good. He was in good spirits to have been dealing with that. I scared the tar out of him when I knocked on his window.

So we go to some tow joint off of maury street that is teeming with cigarettes, mullets and rottweilers and I am left there. Everyone I try to call is not answering, so I ring Tom and interrupt his Cracker Barrel lunch with his oldest sister and ask him to come fetch me. He asks if I will be the "paltry woman standing on the corner waving her arms in the rain?" 

After I discover that I cannot get a pack of nabs out of the snack machine without all quarters I pack up my stuff and walk down the street to the bus stop to wait for Tom. I wave my arms. He comes right away and brings me a biscuit from the restaurant. Which was great and made my day. 

Tonight I am going to see Well. And I have to go shower and shave my legs and stuff because I think I am going to wear a skirt.

Fun things to do.

I'm waiting for Maggie and Adam to swing by and give me their key so I can feed their marshmallow over the weekend. 

Then I am going to Kroger for- crap. Am going to have to wake Brett up from his nap and find out for what.

1. In the morning after you have freshly woken up, get together with someone and come up with new names for fruit/vegetable combinations. Maggie got a pluot at the store the other day which is what sparked this uprising. The best ones belong to Brett so far- cucocolli and pumpluberry.

2. At some point when you have another person with you- preferably one you know personally, lay on your back on a flat surface right next to each other so that your hips touch. Then- without dis-touching your hips, roll the both of you over so that you are both lying on your stomachs. A soft surface is best to do this on. This is how Violet and Daisy Hilton had to roll over every time. 

Many a good chuckle to be had.

3. (Robyn- you won't like this one.) So the other night the Altar Boyz cast as well as the casts of several other shows were at Joe's Inn and we were telling Isn't Paul Awesome? stories. I was reminded of a time during "I Love You, You're Perfect, Now Change" when Paul was to look offstage left for a very brief second and then go on with the scene. Now, Brett and I were running crew for this show and Derek Phipps was in it as well.  The boys would try all manner of lewd gestures and prop mistreatment to get Paul to laugh when he looked offstage. But he never would. So one night after we had exhausted every naughty inappropriate scenario the three of us could come up with, I decided that we should go to 7-11 before the show the next evening and buy a hot dog. The hot dog would then be removed from its' bun and inserted into the fly of Derek's jeans. Brett would then kneel down and you know what to the hot dog in time for Paul's offstage glance.

So we did that. The three of us were HIGHLY diverted. Paul did not bat a lash. 

Today Phil let me powerwash the sidewalk in front of the Empire. This was the high point of my month. Never have I attracted so many vocal male admirers. If ever you want to be hit on, wear a short pink skirt and a Tinkerbell t-shirt and powerwash a sidewalk on Broad St.

I powerwashed (Wendy informed me it was called a powerwasher and not a "big squirt gun") too closely to the corner of a sidewalk tile and exploded a chunk of concrete the size of my fist all over my legs and shoes. Doesn't matter.

Also one of the tech crew informed me that he dreamed last night that he and I and bunch of other Theatre IV employees all lived together and I wore a full-body raccoon suit all day long.

WANT that suit.

It is a BEAUTIFUL day. Oh my. 

Also Eric and Joy and their lovely spawn are coming to my show this evening. I am very happy about that. I don't mean spawn disrespectfully. I will now go look it up on dictionary.com to make sure I am not being insulting. Hold on.

Nope- I'm not rude. I will further add that Cory is the most beautiful child I have ever seen and that Sean is going to be a nuclear scientist and take over the world. When he was about six I would babysit and we would play space ship new planet travel pretend etc. and when I asked him what we would find to eat on this new exciting planet he said, "Oh you know. Caribou. Bunnies."

Brilliance.

I've decided that if Scott ever plays the Cowardly Lion again it should be retitled the Cowardly Ocelot.

Yesterday I almost ran all the way to Kroger. I only accomplished this because I had my iPod on and that prevented me from hearing my wheezing. When I do not hear myself wheeze and gurgle mucous I am less convinced that I am suffering.

Adam and Maggie are now here.

Have to go wash my shins.