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Rambling rose: Why you ramble, no one knows. (I know. It’s the magic wine.)

I officially have a day and a half off starting right now. THIS IS VERY EXCITING. I kind of had the day off today, but that didn’t really count, because I spent a lot of it at the theater? So that was kind of like working. But once I got home (after one stop at the wine store, I mean, a person had to stop at the wine store, considering there was only half a bottle of wine left in the entire house, and that’s kind of cutting it too close for anyone’s comfort, wouldn’t you agree? Yes, yes you would) I am OFFICIALLY on vacation for a day and a half.

Now, most people would probably do something totally productive with this, like maybe take a road trip or, I don’t know, hang out with friends or whatever it is people do, but mostly I plan on writing a shit-ton of blog posts and effing the hours away online. This is a good use of my time, I think. Also, I cleaned the house last weekend. I mean, who cleans the house two weekends in a row? Crazy people with OCD, I’d think. Who wants to be that person? I don’t. I mean, there’s only so clean a bathtub can get. Why would you OVERCLEAN a bathtub? That’s crazy-talk. OH! And I totally have a foreign film to watch. And I want to go to the library. As you can see, it will be a very busy day of vacationing.

Oh, yeah, I’m supposed to have a theme today. I don’t. Sorry. I already started drinking. At 4. I know. I’M ON VACATION BITE ME. Can you say that when your vacation is just one day off from work and one weekend day, and the day off work is only because you underestimated how many vacation hours you had and if you don’t take the next two Mondays off you’re going to start losing vacation time, so your boss grudgingly said “FINE TAKE THE NEXT TWO MONDAYS OFF THEN” so it’s like a random act of kindness, only with vacation time, and really, no one was really all that kind about it? I’ve decided yes. Yes, you can say you’re on vacation. I can do whatever I want, as long as I don’t kill anyone, I think. Or tell anyone about Fight Club. Shit. I already screwed up.

Anyway, so today, I went to the theater, because I had a meeting, then I had to meet with the actress I’m mentoring, then I promised I’d watch rehearsal for the show I’m stage managing in February. I’m exhausted just thinking about it. Whew. The meeting was our committee to choose next season’s slate of shows. I like this part of my job. I think because it involves reading and debating literature and theater with other people who are similarly intelligent about both things. Also, lots of lists get made. And there are few things in life I like more than a good list. Lists of the plays that were submitted that I read; lists of potential slates; lists of what plays are comedies, dramas, mysteries, contemporary, you name it, I WILL LIST IT. So many lists. Lists lists lists.

So today we made total headway and that was encouraging. We have a while still but it’s nice to get it done sooner than later. So one task down.

Then, mentoring! I know, you’re all thinking, this is a SUPREMELY BAD IDEA. No! I’m actually totally inspirational, so suck it. The actress I’m meeting with is auditioning in New York City at the end of the month for acting schools, so I’m helping her with her audition pieces. We’ve selected the pieces (one classical, one contemporary), timed them out to meet the very, very stringent time constraints the program puts on her, and now we’re working on making them sparkle. Jazz hands are NOT involved. I mean, they could be, but then probably she wouldn’t be chosen, and I so want her to be chosen, she is a total peach and I adore her. Also, I’m pretty sure then she would HAVE to mention me in her acceptance speech when she wins the Tony, right? RIGHT. It is the most fun, and this time I didn’t even derail the proceedings by talking incessantly about A Song of Ice and Fire with her (mostly because we’ve exhausted talking about the three books in the series we’ve read, so I think we’re safe, until we start the fourth book.)

THEN, rehearsal. I know, are you totally the most jealous of all my arts shit today? I know you are. It’s ok, my little jellybeans, most of my days off are, I promise you, spent right here in front of the computer being lazy as hell. Rehearsal was awesome, even though, unfortunately, they were not rehearsing the scene where the words “They’re your friends, Jesus” are uttered, because that’s my favorite scene, especially when the emphasis is placed on the wrong word in the sentence.

So now I am home. OH! You know what you all need? Nephew Report. I totally have wine-related ADD today.

**NEPHEW REPORT**

Today in Nephew Report: The Nephew spent the day and night with my parents last night, so when I called last night to tell them I was not set upon by marauders on my way home from work yesterday, he was there, being loud and awesome, as usual.

Things he did while he was staying with my parents:

  • When my mother told him he could have cake if he took two more bites of his dinner, he said “But there IS no more cake. We ate it all LAST time.” I love that The Nephew thinks cake is finite. He was VERY excited when she revealed that, in fact, there was a WHOLE NEW CAKE. This probably blew his world wide open, I’m thinking. I wish I lived in a world where I was just learning that cake can be infinite. That would be the best.
  • He wanted some juice. My mother went to get him some. He said, again, “I want some JUICE.” She said, “You have to wait, The Grandson (see what I did there? Sweet, I rock at pseudonyms, no?), I’m getting it!” and he said, and I quote: “Waiting makes my nose itch.” WHAT? Who says this? This is potentially the most brilliant thing a child has ever said. Where did he come up with this? His nose itch? The Nephew is obviously the most brilliant, I swear. He’s going places, you guys. Like, amazing brilliant places. I don’t know where yet, though. I’ll get back to you on that.
  • When I was talking to my father, he ran in in TEARS. When my father said, “What’s wrong?” he wept, “I’m not FUNNY.” After much calming down, it was discovered that the problem was that he and my mother had been playing a game: he would run and plop down on her lap, and laugh, and she would laugh, and he would say, “You’re not funny!” and she would say, “YOU’RE not funny!” and then they would say this over and over and over and the game would repeat itself. Out of NOWHERE, she said her response of “YOU’RE not funny!” and he was SO HURT that she implied he wasn’t humorous, all of a sudden.  Hurt to TEARS. Well! The Nephew, listen! I also hate: criticism, people implying I’m not funny, and people who have to put in their two cents about me. I ALSO change moods on the drop of a hat, cry randomly, and get VERY UPSET about minor things. I love you MORE, if that’s possible, for this beautiful little melodrama. Well-played, The Nephew, well-played. Give it a few years and I’ll save a spot for you at my theater.
  • When he refused to eat his breakfast this morning, and my mother tried to convince him to eat, he said, in a tone of wonderment, “You’re ARGUING with me.” Hee. Yep. How DARE she, buddy?

OK. FINALLY. So in order to make 2012 THE YEAR OF AWESOME, on TOP of the two amazing trips I have planned, there is a small-yet-swelling movement for myself and some of my favorite Twitter-denizens (Twittizens?) to attend NYCC in October. For those of you who are all “WHAT THE EFF” that’s New York Comic Con. So, all the geekery you might want on this coast, and not as scarily-packed full of people as SDCC (oh, stop freaking out, that’s San Diego Comic Con.)

I just checked, and a four-day pass is $85. Even broke-ass me can afford $85. I’d pay $85 to hang out in an airport bathroom with some of the people who’ve said they’re coming, to tell you the truth. DONE. NYCC, here I come. Also, I love New York City, and it’s been much too long since I’ve been. A few years, at least. It’s time I go back.

Alright! I’ve totally rambled and brambled enough, and I have pork chops to barbecue and wine that won’t drink itself and SHIT to DO, yo. I AM ON VACATION. For a little over 24 hours more. I AM LIVING LIKE I’M DYINGGGGGG.

Happy Sunday, everyone!

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About lucysfootball

I'm not the girl with the most cake. Someday. SOMEDAY. View all posts by lucysfootball

9 responses to “Rambling rose: Why you ramble, no one knows. (I know. It’s the magic wine.)

  • J.C.V.

    It sounds exciting to be a stage manager. Look forward to hearing about the theater. Enjoy your wine.

    Like

  • Bronwyn Kelly

    YAY for NYCC!! i’ve never been to NYC, so i’m kind of freaking out that this might be an actual thing!! :D :D

    Like

  • blogginglily

    Your nephew should talk about Cheetos more.

    Like

  • Omnibus

    SONG IN MY HEAD NOW!

    Though I love you… with a love true… who can cling to… a Ramblin’ Rose… Ramble on… ramble on… when your ramblin’ days are gone… who will love you… with a love true… when your ramblin’… days are gone…

    Like

  • Julie

    So, I’m a little late to be commenting on this, but I just happened to run across it today and want to say that my 4-year-old daughter told me today, “I hate waiting. Waiting makes my nose itch.” Seriously! Swear to God, the EXACT SAME PHRASE. Which makes me wonder if it was something that was seen on a show…or if this is just something in the 4-year-old collective unconscious. Hmmm…

    Like

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