How about that weekend?

I don’t know about you guys, but I had the best weekend.  All my plans seemed to go awry at the last minute (i.e., I was supposed to see the opera the Marriage of Figaro, Skype with Kevin, go to church) and I wound up having the entire weekend to myself, with nowhere I needed to go, nothing pressing I needed to do. My homework was completed by mid-morning on Saturday. A local marathon kept me from going to church on Sunday. I wound up just taking a couple of really lovely walks; I baked a cake; I did laundry; I did yoga; and then spent most of the weekend watching old Harry Potter movies on TV!

I don’t know — what could be better? I so rarely have two days in a row where I don’t really have to do much of anything.  And the Harry Potter movies are such fun time-wasters.  I actually sat in my own living room, in my own easy chair, and I watched television for hours.  (There was a Harry Potter marathon on ABCFamily.) For some reason, I don’t spend much time hanging out in my own living room.  It has become a luxury. Something that symbolizes “free time.”

I had a great phone conference with one of the producers in L.A. yesterday. Last week, I actually let the other producer go.  (Or however you would say that  — it’s not like I fired him.) I came to the conclusion that even though he was a really nice guy and had great ideas, those ideas were taking my own idea in a really different direction that I couldn’t connect with — and because of that, the re-writing process had become tortuous for me.  As soon as he was out of the picture, a veritable flood of great ideas started pouring into my brain. Interesting how that works, isn’t it?

And nothing beats having enthusiasm for a project you’re writing, right? Enthusiasm is that fine line between heaven and hell.

The trip to New York City is getting closer. It’s supposed to happen in two weeks, they’re just trying to nail down the best airfare.  It is so hard for me to believe that my life is really this good. The money still needs to be a lot better, but I know it’s on its way.

Yesterday when I was taking my walk, I was getting so psyched about being able to go see Broadway shows again! I can’t remember the last time I got to see a Broadway show, but I think it was about twelve years ago.  You know, New York City has changed so much since the days when I first moved there. Back then, in the 80s, I lived with my first husband on the corner of W. 45th Street and 8th Avenue, in the Camelot Building, fittingly enough!

The Camelot Building, New York City
The Camelot Building, New York City

This was literally just a few steps from every theater on Broadway, and tickets back then cost $15, if you can believe that. I was in my early 20s and a waitress in those days, and I saw every show on Broadway.  Then, gradually, it just got more and more and more expensive.  It got to the point where I could only see one or two Broadway shows a year.

I read an article in the Hollywood Reporter over the weekend that said that 78% of the people who attend Broadway shows are white, and %68 of them are white women, with an average age of 44 1/2 years old, with an average income of $186,500 a year.

I don’t know. Those numbers just sort of made me feel weird. I read them over a number of times, trying to make sense out of what has happened to the world I used to know. Not that it matters. I’m just curious.

All right, well. I have to go work for a few hours, so I need to get crackin’ around here. I hope you have a great Monday, gang, wherever you are, and I hope it’s the start of a super-terrific week! Thanks for visiting. See ya.

[This was the first Broadway musical I saw that truly blew me away. And here I’d thought I was going to be bored…]

 

 

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