Eh, Shit Happens...

Notice the RADIO EDIT on the last entry? I decided that everyone who would has read it and now I feel like some damage control is necessary. Perhaps I'm supposed to be more cryptic in my entries, but I strive for brutal honesty about all these types of things. All the same, having that little quiz out there and someone finding it has spooked me that the Internet is not as anonymous as we would like to be sometimes. Well, duh. Too bad, though. I liked my writing on yesterday. Ah well. I'll have to express my skanky ass elsewhere, I suppose.

This morning the world was out to get me. The 4/5 has been a little bitch to me. Some problem with a smoke detector somewhere and I have to re-route way out of my way to get to work. Lucky for me almost every subway line comes close to Wall Street.

It is a beautiful day today. I came out of the subway and smiled, and tried to rinse the subway drama off of me with the sunshine.

And then a bird shit on me.

I swear to God. A bird shit on me.

And then I busted out laughing. Of course. OF COURSE.

When I told Lyle and Vanessa about that, they were like "Great! That's supposed to be good luck."

Really? Bird Shit? Lucky? Has anyone else heard that feces from anything is a sign of good things to come?

Hold on. Let me see if I can research this thing.

This person experience the same thing. Apparently some Chinese woman told him/her it was good luck. And here talks about it as well. Apparently, I'm the only one who thinks a bird shitting on me is not something to be overjoyed about.

I think I'm getting sick. Perhaps a little too much time on the Flatplex roof? I bought some Airborne and hopefully I can nip this in the bud before too soon. I have a show opening next week. That's just crazy. I'm still really frustrated about my part. I can't shake my girliness. So I think I'm going to play the character like a gay man--that way I can keep the feminity while still remaining gender-ambiguous. Like Boy-George crazy drag queen or something. I don't know. I have a week. Jesus. Some divine intervention would be swell right about now.

[looks up to sky]

Help? Anyone there?

[bird shits on my head]

Perfect. Thanks.