Today was going to be productive. Today was going to be calming and focused, all the better to prepare for Final Dress tonight, Preview tomorrow night, and our Sold Out (!!!) Opening Night on Saturday. Today I was going to drink coffee and do some work. Read a few journals and the Times and maybe play some Minesweeper (but, calmly ). I was going to then make some long overdue phone calls, write an entry, write lists of things I need to do once Twelfth Night opens and I mostly get my life back. To plan to finally get back to pushing the script, calling the too many companies and agents and managers who have it and havent gotten back to me on it. To working on the other scripts. To sending out the short of which we finally have 100 copies (to actually celebrate for a fucking second having produced, directed, written, acted in, costumed, and catered a short film). To give them to not only the cast and crew, but to the above companies, to my other industry contacts, to my agent, etc. To eat some cheap Chinese food, and drink some Dr. Pepper. To beg the $20,000 Chesterfield Writing Contest to let me submit my screenplay and a one act play 3 days late because the Post Office mangled my totally on-time submission (a lie: I just found out about the contest this morning). To breathe and laugh and talk to people.
Have I been able to do any of these things? No. Of course not. And why? Because Ive been too busy watching live streaming video of a little puppy named Shakira on the Miami Humane Societys Puppy Cam. There are lots of puppy cams (and kitten cams) and apparently they really help get animals adopted a lot quicker. Case in point: were I anywhere near Miami right now, Sassy Shakira would be mine, baby.
Really. Shes so cute.
And Im getting all involved here. Im sitting at my desk in Los Angeles talking to a puppy 3,000 miles away:
"Your ball is right there. Get the ball. Get the
I truly hope by the time you read this, shes gone (the good way, not the other). But if not, and you live in Florida (ahem: Sara), go adopt her. Shes so cute. The number is 305.696.0800.
I dont like to talk about the whole Stella situation, but obviously my already complex feeling about pet ownership have gotten a lot more complex since March and Im sure when I finally do get another puppy, Im going to be a nervous fucking wreck. Or maybe Ill just relax and enjoy the pup. Or maybe Ill just get a cat and let it live its own persnickety life.
Good night Shakira.
The Twelfth Night dress last night was very bad. Everything is really complicated in this show (from the bi-leveled set to our costumes to having a live cellist to the storm sequence) and now that all the elements are together, the acting is going to hell. This always happens right before opening, but this is probably the strongest group of actors Ive ever worked with and I just hope the acting doesnt become secondary. It cant. It wont. But I just want us to let the rest take care of itself and get back to affecting (is that right?) each other on stage. Thats why were here. Well, wish me luck on the opening.
Damn that was quick we got our TapLights! Fuck yeah, they are fresh. I cant figure out where to put mine yet. Maybe in the bedroom to weave some of that TapLight magic damour.
"Oh honey, I want to see you in all your manly glory but I do not want you to get up just now. What, tap that white circle on your wall? OK (*click) Oh my! That is just the perfect amount of the light for us to make the love. It is so sexy, yes?" (Apparently my girlfriend is Eastern European now.)
Im telling you, if the TapLight works like I hope, Im definitely looking into that VibraTouch.
The Larry King Happy