Things fall apart
Talk about disenchanted. During Monday's rehearsal, our director cut out the joke Rosencrantz makes about "a Christian, a Moslem, and a Jew" because she feels it would be inappropriate. Inappropriate? Let's burn some books while we're at it. I'm really disgusted with that choice; especially because she chose to keep his "A Hindu, a Buddhist and a lion-tamer" line; it is now completely tangential and not funny at all. Either cut both lines out or keep 'em both in, but cutting the first because of the stupid political climate--come on! And I don't mean to play director, but the line where Rosencrantz yells "Fire!" and then says "they should all burn in their shoes"--that's directed to the audience and then not; in a way because R&G have no idea where they are or why. It somehow, gets lost. We've got 2 weeks to pull it together.
I spent a good part of Monday complaining to Verizon about problems with my new cell phone. Mike, my sales representative, is a moron. He mucked up my order, gave me false information, and refused to return or answer my calls. A nice woman from customer service named Landa ironed everything out for me. I'm writing a letter to Verizon Wirless Inc about Mike and his compulsive lying. On the positve end, I have come out of the dark ages and my friends will be happy to learn I can now send and receive text and picture messages, IM, and make lovely phone calls from my new phone.
Last night, I had dinner with Liane who is in town for her brother, Alan's graduation from Columbia College at Columbia University. To deafening silence, Rachel and I lectured her (I hate doing that) on dating older divorcees with baggage. She's not 100% happy with the current slob who uses her apartment like a slum lord's tenement. She's no squeaky-clean either, so to hear this, he must be a total louse who can't pick up after himself. Maybe it is because he is French which is why he so ineloquently expressed it was her duty to clean up after him and is a completely jealous freak. Unless he lets his divorce baggage go and starts realizing he's dating an American woman, I think his reign as her boyfriend will be usurped by someone else... or he'll get thrown out via a Liane uprising. Rachel and I continued with our love for being single (though we are both unhappy with the dating scene in New York which is like trying to cure stupidity--impossible) and how Liane may actually enjoy it out in LA with all the young, available, and intelligent men. Granted, Liane is kinda a status whore herself since she wants someone with a college education (too bad; that rules out billionaire Virgin mogul, Richard Branson), an excellent portfolio and retirement plan, and who will adore her and shower her with goods and attention. She and I are completely opposite in this manner. Not saying those things wouldn't be icing on the cake for me, but NY is filled with those types and it only causes me agita or maybe it was heartburn. And could they send out anymore mixed and confused signals?
We ended our dinner at Pipa with chocolate brownie and ice cream and headed for tea at Rue 57; all the way uptown. I got home, exhausted and Aurora, my little girl, got fed. Unfortunately, for some reason, she threw up her food. I'm not sure why and I'm concerned because about a month ago she did the same thing with wet food she didn't want. This was her normal dry food; came out like sausage without the casing. I felt so bad, but she was able to eat the rest of her food and she was fine. There was nothing weird in her vomit (aren't you glad you're reading this entry) and she was fine later. Still, I'll have to keep an eye on her--she's doing so much better since her antibiotic treatment and only a few more days to go.
Tonight, I saw Kill Bill Vol. 2 again with Alex. Awesome flick--you don't realize, but Tarantino writes women really well; I mean whole, complete, saavy women. I like a filmmaker who treats his audience and his characters like real adults, not stupid ninnies.Tomorrow, more rehearsal, work, and hanging with my talkative kitty.
I spent a good part of Monday complaining to Verizon about problems with my new cell phone. Mike, my sales representative, is a moron. He mucked up my order, gave me false information, and refused to return or answer my calls. A nice woman from customer service named Landa ironed everything out for me. I'm writing a letter to Verizon Wirless Inc about Mike and his compulsive lying. On the positve end, I have come out of the dark ages and my friends will be happy to learn I can now send and receive text and picture messages, IM, and make lovely phone calls from my new phone.
Last night, I had dinner with Liane who is in town for her brother, Alan's graduation from Columbia College at Columbia University. To deafening silence, Rachel and I lectured her (I hate doing that) on dating older divorcees with baggage. She's not 100% happy with the current slob who uses her apartment like a slum lord's tenement. She's no squeaky-clean either, so to hear this, he must be a total louse who can't pick up after himself. Maybe it is because he is French which is why he so ineloquently expressed it was her duty to clean up after him and is a completely jealous freak. Unless he lets his divorce baggage go and starts realizing he's dating an American woman, I think his reign as her boyfriend will be usurped by someone else... or he'll get thrown out via a Liane uprising. Rachel and I continued with our love for being single (though we are both unhappy with the dating scene in New York which is like trying to cure stupidity--impossible) and how Liane may actually enjoy it out in LA with all the young, available, and intelligent men. Granted, Liane is kinda a status whore herself since she wants someone with a college education (too bad; that rules out billionaire Virgin mogul, Richard Branson), an excellent portfolio and retirement plan, and who will adore her and shower her with goods and attention. She and I are completely opposite in this manner. Not saying those things wouldn't be icing on the cake for me, but NY is filled with those types and it only causes me agita or maybe it was heartburn. And could they send out anymore mixed and confused signals?
We ended our dinner at Pipa with chocolate brownie and ice cream and headed for tea at Rue 57; all the way uptown. I got home, exhausted and Aurora, my little girl, got fed. Unfortunately, for some reason, she threw up her food. I'm not sure why and I'm concerned because about a month ago she did the same thing with wet food she didn't want. This was her normal dry food; came out like sausage without the casing. I felt so bad, but she was able to eat the rest of her food and she was fine. There was nothing weird in her vomit (aren't you glad you're reading this entry) and she was fine later. Still, I'll have to keep an eye on her--she's doing so much better since her antibiotic treatment and only a few more days to go.
Tonight, I saw Kill Bill Vol. 2 again with Alex. Awesome flick--you don't realize, but Tarantino writes women really well; I mean whole, complete, saavy women. I like a filmmaker who treats his audience and his characters like real adults, not stupid ninnies.Tomorrow, more rehearsal, work, and hanging with my talkative kitty.
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