Hey all! Here are some brief updates Re:My Existence--
Our cast played Lazer Tag at the nearby Family Fun Center between our workshop and our evening show (which took place at a GORGEOUS little outdoor space surrounded by massive pillars.) Vince and Wes took the lead in the first and second games, respectively--but I snagged second in both rounds. BLINDFIRING AROUND CORNERS FOR THE GODDAMN WIN.
Yeah, bitches--I've got an alternate firing mode.
"Bull in a vagina shop" is my new favorite phrase. Spread the word. Be the toast of the now with your 'fresher-than-E40' lingo.
Somehow or another, while walking to Borders or Fuddruckers, I forget which, a strange concept suddenly hit me. As I looked out at the traffic (and the following day, as I looked out at our high school audience) I realized that we are--inextricably on the same team. It wasn't the usual "Love everybody!" message, but instead a more practical sort of "Same teams, man! Same teams!" the thing you shout at someone when they come around the corner during a water fight. It's delightfully simple and reassuring. Remember, in fact, the sudden rush of assurance you got when you realized that not only is this person in front of you not your enemy, but in fact they're working with you to accomplish a goal? That's what our true nature is when we quit ignoring it. Even someone who does potentially negative things--its not necessary to place them so close that their exploits (positive or negative) have a deep emotional effect on you. Its enough to realize that your goals are in line.
Whoops, fell off my soapbox there--
Anyway, I'll write more when I'm in a 'writey' place. As it stands, I've got too many things I want to DO. I'm like a bull in a vagina shop.
FULL CIRCLE FOR THE WIN.
Love,
Dakotah
P.S. I heard in some song that apparently, every girl's crazy 'bout a sharp dressed man.
P.P.S. Also, I got a haircuit from a dude who, while hanging out with his Reiki master, had bought a 200 dollar jewelry chest from Nepal ON A WHIM. Yeah, turns out I had misconceptions about Omaha. And yes, my foot tastes GREAT.
If you buy that vest, I will fucking kill you. If you buy and wear that vest, you will have cleavage and an hourglass figure. You will need a goddamn fainting couch. You could audition for Libby Appel's OSF production of Pride and Prejudice in that vest. You will have a new understanding of what all that heaving bosoms nonsense in romance novels is about.
ReplyDeleteI could go on. Love ya.
I have no idea what you're talking about, and I have the e-receipt to prove it.
ReplyDeleteGave you a scare, huh? No no-I'm just gazing listlessly.