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interesting day
Apr. 8th, 2006 10:59 pmWhat was to have been a lazy day of pizza and watching the NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEAD remake for research purposes (god DAMN every day I still plot and plan doing this play) soon took a turn for the interesting.
It all started when my mother, ever prodding, found out that Studio Theatre were holding open auditions for a play called DOG MEETS GOD or some such thing, today only, come with monologue prepared. So fifteen minutes later, we were out on the road, trying to hit up a professional audition when we ran into a nasty double-pot-hole left behind from construction of Massachusettes Avenue, banging up the rims on my front tires and left one of the tires completely flat. Thankfully![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
fiveseconddelay was long to help put on the spare.
So I end up hitching a ride with Ma to Studio, where I pull a VIGIL monologue outta my ass just an hour before the audition. And goody gumdrops, who is the play's director? None other than Keith, a man who (during my time as intern-lackey-boy at Studio two years ago) actually made a worker cry in front of everyone else in the office. This guy's a total smug cruel prick. But the good news is, he seemed to really like my audition! (I don't know if it's good or not that he didn't seem to recognize me)
After that, it was time to get the party organized for Mom and Gordon's book club. I fucking hate the book club. Oh, they're nice enough people, I suppose, but... well, ok, they're all snobs. Snobs of things on which I simply cannot relate. These people do not get my sense of humor and I feel like such an awkward alien around them. These people badmouthed the LORD OF THE RINGS movies and promptly shot down Mom's suggestion to read GOOD OMENS one month. I just can't assimilate my brain to the social morays of these upper-middle-class liberal Washingtonian types.
Thankfully, my brother is here for the week. For those who don't know my brother, he looks absolutely nothing like me. He has dark olive skin, a rich full head of hair, has a full scruffy beard, and is rail thin. Mom calls him "my little Lebanese terrorist." The only way you can tell we're brothers is that we have the exact same laugh.
Oh, and the same horrible evil sense of humor. I don't know how many other people could really appreciate the absolutely horrible joke I've been making about my grandmother lately. I dare not even put it up here; somehow, I just don't think people will get it. Or they might get it just fine, but they might also think me a really terrible person for it.
I think tomorrow afternoon I'm gonna go see a production of HAMLET at Howard Community College. The review in the Washington Citypaper has me mightily intrigued, and god damn do I love this play.
Few things are so jaunty and happy-making quite like the Super Mario Brothers 2 soundtrack. Just sayin'.
Loudon Wainwright III is coming to town Wednesday May 17. SQUEE.
It all started when my mother, ever prodding, found out that Studio Theatre were holding open auditions for a play called DOG MEETS GOD or some such thing, today only, come with monologue prepared. So fifteen minutes later, we were out on the road, trying to hit up a professional audition when we ran into a nasty double-pot-hole left behind from construction of Massachusettes Avenue, banging up the rims on my front tires and left one of the tires completely flat. Thankfully
fiveseconddelay was long to help put on the spare. So I end up hitching a ride with Ma to Studio, where I pull a VIGIL monologue outta my ass just an hour before the audition. And goody gumdrops, who is the play's director? None other than Keith, a man who (during my time as intern-lackey-boy at Studio two years ago) actually made a worker cry in front of everyone else in the office. This guy's a total smug cruel prick. But the good news is, he seemed to really like my audition! (I don't know if it's good or not that he didn't seem to recognize me)
After that, it was time to get the party organized for Mom and Gordon's book club. I fucking hate the book club. Oh, they're nice enough people, I suppose, but... well, ok, they're all snobs. Snobs of things on which I simply cannot relate. These people do not get my sense of humor and I feel like such an awkward alien around them. These people badmouthed the LORD OF THE RINGS movies and promptly shot down Mom's suggestion to read GOOD OMENS one month. I just can't assimilate my brain to the social morays of these upper-middle-class liberal Washingtonian types.
Thankfully, my brother is here for the week. For those who don't know my brother, he looks absolutely nothing like me. He has dark olive skin, a rich full head of hair, has a full scruffy beard, and is rail thin. Mom calls him "my little Lebanese terrorist." The only way you can tell we're brothers is that we have the exact same laugh.
Oh, and the same horrible evil sense of humor. I don't know how many other people could really appreciate the absolutely horrible joke I've been making about my grandmother lately. I dare not even put it up here; somehow, I just don't think people will get it. Or they might get it just fine, but they might also think me a really terrible person for it.
I think tomorrow afternoon I'm gonna go see a production of HAMLET at Howard Community College. The review in the Washington Citypaper has me mightily intrigued, and god damn do I love this play.
Few things are so jaunty and happy-making quite like the Super Mario Brothers 2 soundtrack. Just sayin'.
Loudon Wainwright III is coming to town Wednesday May 17. SQUEE.
