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There’s really few things better than thank you notes. Their cute exteriors and the sweet things inside of them. It’s a great theater polite-ism that weirdly I don’t do. Why don’t I do it? I need to do it. With House of Home I gifted each actor with a free Homemade Monologue. Overwhelmed with gratitude for their work, I couldn’t help it, and I can’t WAIT to make them all say more things. As for the cards  – what exactly does one do with them? Keep them in a box to either motivate or make sad your granddaughter? Or: just read and digest? (They later come out as confidence.)

After weeks and weeks of intense rehearsal and play creation, and a happy opening, you kind of want NOTHING more than to drive to Vermont and visit the apple barn and peruse apple butter and maple products like bears and faces made of maple, and eat apple cider doughnuts, and happen upon the best salvation army EVER where you find an old tshirt that simply reads FRANCE. And so sometimes, that is exactly what you do.

I have an idea! Wearing a dress of cupcakes is merely part of it.Or actually not all, but how fun would that be? Fun.

I want to make everyone who I’ve written a homemade monologue for to come to my apartment and perform them for me (as I have yet to actually see any of them, and actually seeing them would probably make my monologue writing Better.) And so! It will be an event, even, and I will have baked things like bread and cupcakes and bacon dip, as a thank you for those who have bought monologues, and as a PLEASE BUY THEM to people who haven’t. And so! Coming this fall! A celebration of homemade monologues! Or: a good excuse to have people over. Or: a good excuse to make bacon dip.

I just received a giant box of old movies!!!  YES! I completely forgot they were en route. I’ve been working with this great company Yarn Films which pairs NY playwrights with LA directors to create screenplays – kind of bridging that gap if you will. My director Better Half has suggested all of these films, as our project is a crumbling love story of sorts. If you need me, I will be happily buried beneath these.

I only have 7 days left of my job, and two things are happening: one: the days are going by SO. SLOW. Two: I am getting really nervous. I want to be excited, and I AM, but it’s just hard to walk away from a great job, from the best co-workers EVER, from security, from Health Insurance. I know that I’m doing the write thing, and how my summer is filling up with deadlines and the like, I really don’t know how I would have managed both. But, my worst fear is that 6 months down the line I’ll need a job again and will end up stuffing gift bags and a Bridal Magazine party for ten dollars an hour or wearing a rented tux and opening doors. True Stories.

Oh well, here’s to a leap of faith, and to the Future!!

fyi, that lamb is taking a Leap of Faith. It’s a metaphor, okay? Is there a massive, angry river below him? Or a hungry dinosaur? Or: is it soft, pleasant Grass?

 Please, let it never be said that I am not a warrior; a daredevil. For I went snow-shoeing.

Hunter mountain was packed with extreme sport-ers, jetting down risky slopes named after skiiers who were killed on them. And while they looked judgingly at our weird foot-pieces, as they yelled ‘WRONG WAY!’ as we went DOWN the ski lift,  I am sure they were really just jealous of the peace, tranquilty and non-death we found on our snow-shoe trails.

After a quick mental inventory, I just realized that I am currently working on 4 new plays, 4 movies and 3 musicals.

What the crap is wrong with me?

Subquestion: Why do I this to myself?

Subanswer/comment: I love that I do this to myself, and will probably continue to do so. I will continue to tell myself that greatness stems from the hysteria of business / pressure, until I earn the right to work on one thing at a time. At that point, I will probably have 70 grandkids and live in a cottage, but boy, what a great One Thing it’ll be.

Hi it’s me, captain excitedpants. I’m going home a week from tommorrow and am starting to get all yay about it. It reminds me our dog, Tanner, and how – when we took trips to the lake – he literally could SENSE when we were a few miles away and would start to freak out and hang his head out the window, smelling the water and fish. That is me kind of, except I am smelling goodwill. And chicken nuggets. Oh, and my family and stuff.

One of the many, many reasons that I am a very lucky girl is that I have a rad Dad who loves Musicals, among other things that I also like. When I was doing the Growing Up, he always had the cast recording of whatever musical what new on Broadway – so I gained a knowledge of and love for a Good musical before I’d ever even been to New York. Thanks Dad! One of our favorites, Ragtime, is just about to open on Broadway, and I just got a surge of excitement to see it. It captures perfectly a moment in history – and it’s got the most beautiful music (Sarah Brown eyes) and even small shout-outs to sort of part of my name, I have decided (A shtetl iz Amerike).
Okay, now I go see who I need to Kill to get tickets.