You Don't Want an Apology

You want posts. I don't have much of an explanation as to why I haven't posted lately. All I can say is I thought about it sometimes, but I didn't do it.

So to get myself back into the posting groove, here's some random stuff.

I have scratches on my hand and I don't know how they got there. Perhaps I have multiple personalities and am blacking out and I'm living secret lives that even I don't know about. Sometimes the simplest explanation is the most reasonable.

I saw the movie "Walk Hard" with some friends tonight, and we laughed out loud at just about every line for the first fifteen minutes. If you don't mind puerile jokes and nude scenes, you'll probably enjoy it, too. If you rent the DVD, there are also some funny special features. "The Last Word" with John Hodgeman (hey Ben -- John Hodgeman!), had me laughing out loud. Yeah, lots of laughing out loud in general. Even after the wine wore off.

After several weeks off, improv classes have started again. They scare me. But you know, in a good way. I'm now on Level 3, which means I was eligible to audition for their student performing teams. Didn't get in, but at least I gave it a shot. If facing fear is a victory in itself, then I was a victor that day. I do well when you don't measure success by, like, success.

I got another Chinatown haircut! It's all short and bobby and spunky and cute. And most of it is my natural color now, which is blonder than I thought it would be. Especially under florescent lights.

I have become Obnoxious Baby Picture Person. I never thought this would happen to me. It must be deeply ingrained in our DNA, such that resistance is futile. I got a digital camera for my birthday, right before Christmas, and I took pictures of my nephew -- holding a bottle of beer, wearing a cute hat, making faces. And then I forced the roommate who had the misfortune of sitting next to me when I uploaded them to my computer to look at them. (John, I'm sorry. You were a good sport.) I've never been baby-crazy, but them infants sure is funny when they're related to you. The Neph holds his mouth open like a baby bird waiting to be fed, which could have amused me all day. But then, I also like to color.

And now it's 2:30 am. Not good for the sleep schedule. When, oh when, will I find work that allows me to be nocturnal? Saturday Night Live, when will you hire me? I've been right there in my cubicle, waiting to be discovered. Surely it's just a matter of time. Lorne Michaels, call me!