Stream of...

Must go to bed. But have swimmy swummy brain.

a) I am not getting sick.

b) I have a new appreciation for pencils. I’ve spent a lot of time disliking pencils. I have been finding them pleasing lately.

c) When I woke up this morning, I felt like I had been persecuted throughout the entirety of the night. Suddenly in a flash, large chunks of my dreams started bombarding me with enough force that I’ve actually continued to have flashes of them throughout the day (strange…as it’s been quite awhile since I’ve actually remembered one….) The painful crux of what I think was actually one REALLY long epic dream, was this: the woman who wrote the movie I shot, “Hog Island”, had some sort of gathering at her house (which, of course, looked nothing like her real house), and initially when I arrived, her husband, the director, and other guests were all very normal and civil and then suddenly, the woman entered the room and projected really loudly - directly at me - something like, “How DARE you be here you horrible woman! I’ll give you 5 minutes to leave my house! You have ruined everything I will never forgive you!” and then a weird epic chase that involved a lot of packing (I somehow had managed to leave things ALL over the house that I NEEDED to find and pack before I could go) and running up and down stairs and corridors, inside and outside (somehow an entire village entered into the picture here and this section even included a bear hunt, but I’m shaky on the details…) but then back in the house even random guests were trying to help hide me from this woman, who was getting progressively more and more demonic…and all towards be. There was a battery of other insults and personal attacks that I’ve blocked. I know it doesn’t sound that bad, but in the dream, I just had this horrible, awful, no good, very bad feeling the WHOLE time that I was this horrible, awful, no good, very bad person who had done some irrevocable horrible, awful, no good, very bad thing. *sigh* It’s possible that the fact that I’m playing a really mean character in my current show is actually kinda hard on me and those feelings are bleeding into my subconscious. I still don’t know what it was that I did wrong. Ah well. That’s kind of the way I feel a lot of the time in life.

d) Had a burrito at Ananda Fuara today. To go. Man, I love that place. Even to go. I’ve had A LOT of different items there, but never the burrito, and I am pleased to report that it was DEElicious.

e) a few minutes before I started this, I was doing my after shower preening, which includes putting baby powder on me bum and I thought of something that I could not bear forgetting, so I went to write it down at my desk, sitting upon my desk chair. When I got up, I had this awesome butt print from the powder, but instead of looking like a heart, it looked like this: ΠΠ I mean if that was smooshed together. It was very angular like that and it struck me that it looked like a robot butt.

f) On the way home from my 1,894th rehearsal of the day, I had an incredibly meaningful silent exchange with a scrappy little dog. I was at the red light at Turk and Gough Streets (it’s ALWAYS red there, I NEVER hit it at the right time), and there was a woman stopped with her dog, waiting to cross. Right when I turned to look at the dog, he turned and looked at me. We stared at each other for quite some time. It struck me that he didn’t lose interest so I started to make faces at him like one would to a newborn baby and he still stared directly at me stone-faced, unblinking. So I asked him how he was doing. He seemed to tell me that he was ok, but rather bored. The fact that I thought that I received this message made me break our eye contact and as soon as I turned my gaze, so did little mr. scrappy. I looked back directly at him to see if I could regain contact and strangely enough, he felt it and looked right back at me. I smiled, but knew that something had changed, and today him goodbye and started to bike away, when he suddenly let out one quick little ‘YAP!” His walker person seemed shocked by this as she said, “Why did you bark? You don’t bark!” And I smiled and felt deeply happy as I continued down Turk struck by the meaningfulness of my scrappy dog interaction. This segued directly into the morbid thought that perhaps this would be when god would strike me down as I had somehow broken down an unbreakable barrier and in speaking with dogs I had become spiritually whole and no longer needed the rest of my time here. I think I need some sleep. I don’t even believe in god. Although this reminds me a very wow Jon Krakauer quote that I will put in here once I have caught some Z’s.

g) In the middle of everything else that is going on right now, I got a last minute call to audition for the California Shakespeare Festival/Theatre. They are an amazing company that I thought I would NEVER work with, as I do not have a theatre pedigree nor the requisite experience in Shakespeare needed to work at such a high level theatre. Anyhow, I was called in with one days notice on top of moving the work office and “4 Adverbs” rehearsal and everyothergoddamnthingthatcouldpossiblybegoingonrightnowjesusmaryandcows and somefreakinghow I did it. I was prepared. I went and just played at the audition and did my very best. Was called back that very night to see if I could come back in at 10am this morning to meet the playwright… There is a whole story here that I may choose to expand on later, but basically I am beating around the bush to just say….well: pick me pick me pick me! I REALLY would like to do this gig. *sigh* that was hard. I find it very difficult to admit to really wanting something because it makes it that much harder when it does not work out. I feel butterflies in my tummy every time I think of what will happen. I feel strangely invested in this one, cause I have let myself get me hopes up, so I’m setting myself up for MAJOR excitement or really DISMAL fucking failure. I’m starting to feel yucky just sitting here typing honestly about it. I will go sleep now.

Good night.