This may be my last entry for a bit, I have no idea what my schedule's going to be like for the next little bit. My parents left this morning for the East coast, taking the Squidge and Babar with them, and they will not return for two weeks. The most obvious conclusion that can be drawn from this is that I am home alone. For two weeks. Huzzah. I love being alone. A lot of my friends have a hard time with that concept, because being alone is odd. They need something to be there, to sheleter them from their thoughts. (Yikes, my prose is getting all Margaret Atwood right now.) Even Mike--and this drives me crazy--always has to have the tv or something on in the background to fill in the void.
The premiere of Memoirs of the Muse was last night. It was interesting to watch. They cut two scenes from the play for lack of actors, and unfortunately one of these was the TS Eliot scene, which was kind of the point of the whole freaking play, but I digress. They also cut the Milton/Paradise Lost scene, which is no big loss, as it was rather dry. People laughed (though not as much as I hoped), my dad demanded a writing credit because I used some of our family in-jokes, it seemed to be relatively well-received. I don't know if I'm disappointed perse, but I'm definitely having to curb my instinct to yell 'noooooo'. Mike and I are going to see it again tonight with his mom and a bunch of his aunts, so maybe it will be better.
I'm still quite tired, and in need of a shower, so I think I will go do that, and perhaps return my playwright thoughts when I can actually form one that's coherent.
Darth Caster has a gig at the Reverb in Toronto in a few weeks, which is pretty exciting.