UPDATE.

Okay...

Okay...

So yes, I'm sorry. I don't have a decent excuse for the extreme lull this time. Not like that Jaguar attack...and yes, I capitalized Jaguar.

THAT CAR NEARLY BIT MY ARM OFF.

No but fo reels, I've just been in Idaho--doing the tour thang. Twelfth Night went splendidly! Those are pictures of said production. Yes, I am playing Orsino and Sir Andrew. Yes, that wig did smell horrid after a show, and yes--an audience member did lean over to her friend and whisper loudly, "I can see his penis."

To her credit, I did perform that one in the nude. No, ISF will not be hiring me again.

OH WAIT HAHA LIES JK JK JK SIMMONS. I'm currently three days away from a flight back to Boise! I'll be stepping in to play Proteus in this summer's production of The Two Gentlemen Of Verona. It's an incredibly ridiculously high honor. Even to have had the chance to read the part was an honor. It's intimidating as all hell, but it'll be fine. Turbulent, of course--but fine in the end. I'll just be happy to get to Boise and start looking for a home base with my home girl from tour. We'll be moving in together so the sitcom that is our respective lives will air 7 DAYS A WEEK.

The pilot will feature 12 scenes of us playing Twilight Princess on Wii, 8 scenes of drunken dance parties, and 3 scenes of awkwardly raucous pooping.

I'll leave you to guess who'll be doing the poopin'.

That may have been my favorite sentence to write ever.

L.A.'s been nice, but I'm soured on it and I'm surprised at how not surprised I am. In terms of home bases, this definitely has the advantage of "buddies I've known since I was a tadpole" but the lack of job opportunities that don't require me to bite the proverbial bullet is a definite negative. Especially that bullet-biting job at the shooting range (Why do they even HAVE that?) It's a matter of VIBE, too. I was having a chat with my wonderful wonderful (she's cute and single to boot, GEEEENTLEMEEEEEEN) BFA friend in Santa Barbara last weekend and we commiserated about the L.A. thing. Her coming from SB, and me having a Santa-Cruz hippie heart, the vibe in LA is just...incredibly intense. There's a kind of frenetic energy that offers a bullet-train ride to an unknown place, and the toll is an IMDB page, a pair of aviators, and a shirt from Express. L.A. will cut you off and not give a fuck. Boise may take 10 seconds to realize the light is green, but you don't really fault the poor Subaru Outback. All they've done is make you late for a flexible appointment with Flying M.

Whoops...I think my bias is showing.

In short, I've had more surreal moments of 'not quite fitting in' during the time I've been home than ever before. Part of it, certainly, is the lack of car. But maybe I don't want to live in a city where I need one. YOU EVER THINK ABOUT THAT, YOU BIG METAL JERKS?

It really turns out its time to move on. On to a place where I have some actual agency. That is to say, on to a place where the EXPRESSION of that agency is clearer. More instantaneous. Am I thinking entirely with my ego? Quite likely! Do I care? Not slightly!

SO--I'm back on the blogosphere. And on this hemisphere. Performing Shake-a-speare. More updates to come! Fo realz.

Hornily Yours,
Deeks