Goo' bye, and skip to my "Loo'"...Tuh.

(Taken 1-28-07 during the "Loot" strike. Cedar Av sign-age coming down, and the new signage going out. Remind me not to ever hang signs out front in below zero temps. Doubly remind me not to dress in almost entirely black, stand in traffic, and make sure that they have enough clearance to get the sign out and around to hang it. Sheesh)

Well it was a good weekend all told. I headed home on Frids to nap and relax- then hitting Chino happy hour with Dorajar b4 needing to split to our respective shows. Traffic was a$$, and it made two things happen- My car got frassy again, and I was in a CUH-rummy mood that carried over into the weekend.

'Twas an okay show- We only had 160 in the house which was our smallest turnout to date. After it was over, I barrelled out to Stipples for the "Frassadeus" opening party. Maybe it was me, but you could tell that everyone was a little tired. (They had themselves a purdy stressful and late late night tech week.) We skipped town, watched the last 1/2 an ep of "SFU" and passed out.

Sats was spent cleaning and frassin' around with Big Brother. (Who spent a majority of the day hermited up in the attic like a latter day Anne Frank. Albeit, an Anne Frank who could just as easily throw 60 shuriken into the hearts of the Nazi's searching for her downstairs before any of them had a chance to say "schnitzel", but an attic-ed Anne Frank nevertheless. ) I wound up with two new fans, and a brain full of up-and-coming projects I can dive into with my new free time. The show, again, went well. We had a fuller house, and post-show I bolted out to get my home opened up and the chili and salmon servable.

It was a neat little soiree' (What with a cast of 5, makes for quiet "Jellybean-friendly" gatherings) The evening ended with Dorajar creeping upstairs to pass out while I frassed with our costumer and her friend over Dr. Who, and how the reversal of age in the individual Doctor's starting with Doctor # 1 and going to the present-Day incarnations is akin to a reversal of Jacques "Ages of Man" speech in "As you Like it". Of course that could have been the wine talking.

Sunds, we met some friends for a quick and easy brunch-let in the chilly a.m. hours before (again) splitting for our respective gigs. (Actors. Only actors would blast out of a breakfast date to make it in time for their call times. I had it the worst, with a 90 minute call time. Ninety. Minutes. I'll never let that one slide. Ever) We closed to an entertained audience (Save the woman in the seat in front of the food-table. I worked a bit where I interact with whoever is seated behind that particular modesty panel and throughout the run I've had some good interplay. This woman...oh let's just say that I bet she went home after the show and prayed for my ruination. It was the pants, I'm sure of it.)

Strike took up the rest of the evening, and by the time I got home I was cold, tired, frassy, and hunnnngry. Dorajar peeped over and we muddled through some more "SFU" before passing out.

So now...some free "X-masbaby" time. Just in time for Dorajar to start her 6 weekend run. Oof-da...


btw? If I win the lottery, the first FIRST thing I'm gonna do is buy TRP a new vaccuum. You will never understand frustration until you've sat in the same corner of the green room vaccuuming the same 5 by 5 square foot patch of carpet and nothing...NOTHING gets sucked up. Seriously. Worst vaccuum ever. Picking up the individual grains of sand would have been easier.


oxoxoxoxo