Existentialism on Prom Night...

That title comes from this song, which I enjoy much much.

Dear Lord, this is funny.

I don't know where to pick up where I left off. I can say, I have been a machine at work which is ridiculous because no one's here. If a temp does more than her fair share at work and no one is there to see it, did the work really get done?

Ah well. I'm gonna go home at like 3. Someone already signed my time sheet saying I was here until 5. And not only did I do my work, but Vanessa's as well since she's not here. So fuck it, I'm gonna go home and smoke a bowl before I do "The Ritual" again.

The show went well. I think the audience was very confused about what world Daniel had put them in (and us, too). It's one of those things where if we had a budget it would be easier to have a set that would let people know they were in for a crazy ride, but alas, we'll have to wait until we take it to Broadway.

I was a hit, though. Which is odd because this part has made me bang my head up against a wall in frustration more than any other part I've ever played. I think it's the make-up.

I come home and Conor and Keleen Snowgren are sitting in my apartment. I haven't seen Keleen in many moon (according to her, I saw her at my UT graduation party--"You were obliterated!"--yup, sounds about right). It's really amazing to see her--we have a very very long and very very odd history--now friends, now not, now friends, etc. etc. She let herself become a bitch for a while, a fact which she admits to, but her essence is sweet and loving.

"You've shrunk!"

Jesus. Everyone seems to be commenting on how small I am these days. As far as I know, I'm the same height I've always been. I do know that I've dropped 10 pounds since moving to the city, so that could be it. I don't know. I look in the mirror and still think I look 16. And when I was anorexic, I thought I was hideously fat. Now I just know that I can't really trust what I see in the mirror. I am who I am and I'm pretty pleased with her, so really in the end it doesn't matter I suppose.

We get really high and look through my old high school pictures. You want journey to Nostalgia Land? Oh, dear lord. We were Thespian Society Officers, but we couldn't remember what positions Jaime and I held. So, after having played phone tag with Ms. Jaime for a couple of months, I get a hold of her.

She can't remember what we were, either. Too much pot ago, methinks.

She asks me what I'm doing. I tell her.

"WHAT THE FUCK??!!! YOU WORK ON WALL STREET?"

It was the first time I've paused to think how cracked out it is that I do. Of all people, of all my crew in high school, little hippie/stoner/English fanatic/theatre freak, would wind up on Wall Street is sort of amazing. Sometimes the current carries you so easily and swiftly you forget to notice where you ended up--Holy crap, I'm getting swept into the ocean.

South Park was the most brilliant episode ever. Keleen and I try to get our life stories in the commercial breaks, with Conor being TV Marshall and hushing us when it starts back up.

I was in a million worlds yesterday, all of which were thrilling and interesting and all-consuming, and I am exhausted and spent and wiped and wired and look forward to doing it for the next few weeks.

Awesome.