Okay, Now It’s Getting Stupid

Whoa. Talk about feeling the burn. The new Booty Core workout is now inching into the realm of getting stupidly hard, however, I am sticking with it and doing the best I can.

I still feel great when I’m finished, but, man. Who thinks up this shit? And who needs, you know, a booty that intense? Pas moi!! I’m okay with just having a butt. Well, I mean, I wouldn’t want someone telling me that my butt is really boring. Still, you know, if anyone on Earth is noticing my butt at all anymore, I’m gonna just call that my lucky day!!!!

But I do want to stress that I do feel really good afterwards so I’m glad I’m doing this. It’s making such a difference in how I walk across the floor. I know that sounds stupid, but it makes me feel more centered and more in my center of gravity. So that makes me really happy. (Because, to be honest, for a couple of days there, I was afraid I was never going to walk again.)

And oddly enough, my ex-husband in Seattle emailed me this morning, saying that now that he’s gotten old, he walks a lot slower. WTF??!!

ME: “No!!!!!!!! I don’t want to hear this!!!”

For god’s sake, when he and I got married (like, yesterday) he was only 25 years old. And now he’s 63. Okay, well, to me 63 is not old. (And my other ex-husband, in NYC, is 65 now and has already had a heart attack.) You know, like, what is with these guys? I am 12. I’m staying 12. Even if that means I spend a fortune on all my many cremes & lotions from France, and on my magic hair serum that is indeed keeping my hair from falling out and making it thicker, and I’ll stick with the Booty Core if it means I still get to walk across the floor.

Jeez. Come on, people. I mean, keep up. (Oh! And the company in France sent me yet another new product — get one at half-price and a second one free to try it out. So I did. And it’s this calming 2 in1 cleanser& toner and it is 99% plant-based and it is amazing, gang. I’m so serious. I only got it because I found the notion that it was “calming” really appealing. Not that my face ever feels not calm. However, it makes the little wrinkles around my eyes lots less noticeable!! I mean, like, I couldn’t actually believe it, it was that dramatic. And that’s not even what it’s made for. Anyway.)

Well, today was pretty good. That phone chat with my accountant was revelatory. A lot of his other clients work on Broadway or in the theater in one way or another, and he was able to really give me a clear idea of what to expect over the next couple of years, as far as the two plays are concerned. So I just feel really blessed.

(And I am going to try to keep my business-related expenses down because, I’ll tell you, the IRS was not at all amused. Meaning that I couldn’t claim as much as I really needed to this year, you know? But onward. I’m not gonna fight the IRS, that’s for sure.)

I also took care of the spreadsheet for Abstract Absurdity Productions today and sent it off to Peitor, and I think he was sort of amazed that I actually got to it so quickly. Now all I need to do is get that darn web site built. (Oh, and then we have to make about 8 micro-short movies, and then we’ll be good to go!)

And I did study French some more today and tried to figure out why I’m so insecure when it comes to speaking French. I have just so little confidence. Yet, I breeze right through all these course lessons because, you know, I know French. Why wouldn’t I, after 50 years? So I’m not really sure what my problem is there. But, you know, none of my cats speak French so it’s not like I really need to confront this particular fear.  And, I mean, I’m not afraid of spiders, or bees, or snakes. Or bats — unless it seems like one might get tangled in my hair:

Image result for gary larson bat cartoons

So I guess I’ll be okay with my fear of speaking French. But I’m still kind of curious what’s going on there with me. I was never afraid of speaking Chinese. It’s just French that has me stymied.

Okay, well. I guess I’ll get back to another episode of Ken Burns’ Jazz. Only 2 episodes left to watch. And I really am loving it, despite my feelings re: the musical styles of Dizzy Gillespie, Charlie Parker, and Thelonious Monk. I have learned so much about all these musicians and singers that I’ve listened to all my life and knew next to nothing about.

So have a good night, wherever you are in the world. Thanks for visiting. I’ll leave you with a little France Gall, how does that strike you??!! One of my favorite songs by her: “Le temps de la rentrée.” It’s super pop, in case you’ve never heard it before. (Oh, and I saw today that they’re doing a biopic of Marianne Faithfull! That should be very cool.)

All righty, then. I love you guys. Sleep tight!! See ya!

That Dash of Chaos!

I’m not a big fan of chaos. In any form. Which doesn’t mean everything has to be easy for me to understand as quickly as possible. And it doesn’t mean that there has to be an easily perceived order to everything. But it does mean that I really like the silences in between.

In between what, can be an unknown variable. I’m comfortable with not knowing things. But I do like to be able to find the rhythms of life, the patterns. The cadences. It’s how I actually prefer to live my life.

So I’m not a fan of chaos.

In the Ken Burns Jazz documentary, which I’m almost done watching, we are up to Dizzy Gillespie, Charlie Parker, and Thelonious Monk. It’s interesting to me how they heard the music and how they were able to see it in this sort of un-anchored stream. That is interesting to me, maybe on an esoteric level. But listening to it — it’s that intersection where jazz becomes something that doesn’t resonate with me anymore. I can only listen to it in small doses before it starts to create some sort of disconnect in my brain.

But I do still like learning about it — what each human being’s individual story brings to an over-arching story. Because what I do really love is the human story. So I’m going to keep watching the documentary until the end, but it has really shifted now.

But, you know, I think that understanding why you don’t like something is just as edifying as understanding why you do like something.

It’s similar to why I went to Divinity School, actually — even though I’ve always felt called to follow Christ and I still feel that; and I felt called enough to finally invest all that time and money into Divinity School and do the best job I possibly could (and I graduated magna cum laude, which I’m really proud of); still, I undertook all that because I wanted to make absolutely certain of the reasons why I didn’t believe in Christianity, per se.

Studying the traditions of Christianity and where they come from and how they got to  be the rigid structures that they are,  it actually made my faith in the reality of Christ’s presence that much stronger, but my understanding of him doesn’t resemble anything structured or formulaic or traditional. (Even though a lot of the traditions of Christianity — or perhaps the pageantry of the traditions — are comforting to me, but only in a cursory way.)

So, I really do like understanding what Charlie Parker was able to perceive about musical chords and what they were at their roots, and how the structure or labeling or rigid patterns of music are also myths, in a way. Myths that he took apart and got in between, in terms of improvising from note to note.  I really appreciate knowing that, because it helps me think differently about music and about a lot of things that seem fixed but aren’t, really. But I don’t like listening to that style of jazz. Or I like it only in small doses.

Yesterday was actually a very interesting day. Got the taxes done, and it became really clear that I will need an accountant again. So I have an appointment to speak with him this morning. Get that on track now, because the year is going to start sweeping past.

And I finally made a clear decision about Italian: I’ve stopped studying it. It absolutely does not resonate with me. I gave it 9 months. And I’m basically only able to say what I could say before I started the lessons, unless it’s all right in front of me and I’m taking a quiz. When it’s not in front of me, I can’t remember any of it.  I still have 3 months of pre-paid language lessons left, so I decided to just switch to French, which I enjoy and understand reasonably well.

I spent a couple hours on it last evening, just because it was fun. But because I already understand French, I could now see how they structure the lessons, and I can also see that there is no way on Earth I would have ever truly learned Italian from that type of lesson structuring.  And why? Because it’s too chaotic for me.

Interesting.

But it was also interesting to me, as I spent all that time studying French last evening, how all the times in my life where I’d studied French in the past, were coming back to me. I’ve been studying French since I was 9. So that means over 50 years now. Isn’t that fucking bizarre? That I call it “studying French” instead of saying that I speak it?

At what point do I think I will be done studying it and that I will actually speak it? I guess at some point, we’ll find out.

The last time I was in Paris, I was in a tea shoppe, buying some bulk tea, and I was talking to the proprietor, in French, and apologizing for my French the entire time, and he finally looked at me, sort of bewildered, and said, “You’re speaking very good French.” And it really shocked me. I think it was because I felt really comfortable with him, that my brain just switched over to French without my even realizing it. Because, normally, in France, I don’t speak at all unless I absolutely have to. And I mean, like, at dinner parties — attending hours-long dinner parties with French writers where I’ve said absolutely nothing at all. Nothing. Because I’m only just now learning  French — I only started studying it 50 years ago.

Jesus. I’m so fucking nuts. Basically, I have no confidence that I will be understood. (I guess I feel that way about all of life, really, and so that must be why I live alone with cats and just write. No one’s gonna understand me anyway, so why bother?)

Well, I think today is going to be about doing more paperwork. I have a lot of spreadsheet type stuff that I need to do for Abstract Absurdity Productions, so I might do that today. I had a long phone chat with Peitor in LA last evening, so it seems like now is as good a time as any to get that tedious stuff done. Move the company forward.

I guess I sort of need this down time from all the projects. Actually, what I think I need is a little space from the play so that when I read it again, I will be able to hear it in a fresh way and figure out if anything is still missing. (I think something is still missing, but I don’t know what yet, but I don’t think it’s anything huge.)

Around 4am, I was sound asleep and this sort of distant bell began calling me. And then as I awoke, I realized it was that clanging bell outside my window, that alerts you that the train is coming.  And even though its a freight train, it immediately brought to mind “Chattanooga Choo-choo”, which, coincidentally, couldn’t be further from Charlie Parker-type jazz.

But it is what I’m going to leave you with, for now. Because I have to go make that phone call to NYC and speak to the accountant.

I might post again later, though. Meanwhile, have a good Wednesday, wherever it leads you. I love you guys. See ya.

Contrary to What this Looks Like!!

It’s actually quite a rainy little Tuesday morning here. Although laundry is indeed underway!

And last night, I went into town and got my groceries so I don’t really have to go anywhere or do anything today outside of my house if I don’t want to. So I’m feeling kinda cozy here!

While texting back & forth with Wayne yesterday regarding my (our) old accountant in NYC (Wayne doesn’t actually keep tabs on my accountant, he uses the same one), I told Wayne that I had an updated version of Tell My Bones and asked him if he wanted to read it. And he said yes, so now I’m waiting to hear what he thinks.

He’s actually a helpful critic for me because he does tend to like my work, in general, but he also knows what I’m capable of and usually has good insight into how something may or may not be working as well as it could. (Plus, he was a professional stage actor for a really long time and has read a ton of scripts.) So I’m really curious to know how he feels about that chunk of dialogue at the end. After I hear back from him, I’ll look at the script one more time from start to finish. And then sort of “get ready” for the trip back to New York. Mentally, I mean.

I keep getting the feeling that this new character arc is so unexpected and intense, and the one song the character sings is so creepy, that Sandra is going to switch gears and say that she wants to do that supporting role instead of playing the lead of Helen. It wouldn’t surprise me a bit if that happens. But we’ll wait and see. Sandra won’t be reading the script until after she gets settled in up in Canada.

So.

Booty Core continues to astound and amaze — burn-wise. Wow, gang. Yesterday almost killed me. But it’s only a 30-minute workout so that makes it endurable. (Plus the video instructor will suddenly say things like, “don’t forget to smile,” which cracks me up and makes it easier. Or she says, “if you don’t feel like you’re gonna die right now then you’re not doing it right!”) And the difference in my core muscles is really incredible, considering that I’ve only been doing this workout for a few days.

The downside, of course, is that it’s making me curvier. Already. I’m not super thrilled with that, since I really enjoyed being straight up & down and wouldn’t mind returning to that (I’m just so 1970s, gang — the culture from which the chic anorexic look sprang), but I just try not to look in the mirror, you know? (I realize that young women nowadays want to be super curvy but that whole look just creeps me out. My goal here is not to get more curves, it’s to simply be able to walk across the floor… Well, that part’s going really well, too. So I guess that’s the trade-off: you want to be able to walk, you’re ass is gonna get curvier.)

(1970s women, courtesy of Helmut Newton — these are the types of images I grew up with and I loved them! If you don’t know who he was, he was a famous photographer, not a designer or anything. And he did a ton of erotic nudes, as well.)

1970s, Vogue, Helmut Newton
Vogue, 1972, Helmut Newton

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Charlotte Rampling, 1973, by Helmut Newton

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

An occasional muscle, perhaps, but no curves… (this look had something to do with the popular notion back then that you could never be too rich or too thin.) (And nowadays, I guess, only about 4 people in the world are rich, so why bother to be thin?)

Anyway. That was all yesterday. We only look forward now, right? Right!!

Okay! So. I’m not sure yet what today is going to be about. (Besides more Booty Core.) I’ll either write something, or I won’t. I might work on the new website for Abstract Absurdity Productions, but I might not. I haven’t made up my mind yet about anything. I only know that I am in a really good mood around here and I am super happy with how all the various projects are going. So I might just spend some time kicking back and feeling happy. We’ll see!!

Meanwhile, I hope you have a terrific Tuesday, wherever you are in the world! Try not to get too rich or too thin today! Thanks for visiting, gang. I leave you with my breakfast-listening music from this morning — “Satin Doll” by Duke Ellington & his Famous Orchestra. (Although the version on the CD I was listening to is over 8 minutes long and is incredible!!) All righty. I love you guys. Enjoy. See ya!

Such Intense Decisions!

Do I want to post to the blog, or keep doing the paperwork for my taxes?

I’ll tell you this much — I am astounded by all my business-related expenses from last year.  I am hoping the IRS will not feel similarly. They get sort of funny when your business expenses seem a little disproportionate to your business’s income…

However. I feel confident they will have plenty of reasons to tax me a whole lot more in 2020, so onward, gang!!

And in the middle of “crunching the numbers,” I got the much-anticipated text from the director of Tell My Bones. He loved the new character arc. He is going to try to pin down Sandra’s schedule (she starts rehearsals in Stratford, Canada in 5 days), and he wants to pin down the other actors and finally get the first table-read at the Dramatists Guild in NYC underway.

Which means, coincidentally, more intense contracts that I have to sign.

Which means also another business-related trip to NYC, almost immediately. (I just went through all my receipts from this past trip to NYC, for gas stations, restaurants, the Airbnb, Amtrak trains, many many many Lyft cabs — I got kind of exhausted, looking at all that stuff. And now I’m going to do it all over again. Although I think I will fly there… Right.)

I’m just getting so accustomed to being squirreled away in the peace & quiet of my sanctuary in the middle of nowhere…

Plus — did you know I maintain five websites now?? Well, I do. Funny how that happened. It seems like it was only yesterday when I sort of lost my mind and dismantled a ton of websites, stepped down from my many Executive Director positions, yadda, yadda, yadda, and maintained a single blog. And that was it.

And now it is, once again, five websites later. (Of course, none of them are anywhere near as time consuming as the old ones were. Just nowhere close to it.) (Which is why I’m not on prescription meds, I guess! Yay!) (And I sleep through the night now. Like a baby. Only occasionally waking up to wonder what Nick Cave might be wearing, but other than that, I sleep!)

Well, the Booty Core class went up a notch yesterday. Wow, did I feel the burn. But it’s okay. It’s still fun. I’m really liking it a lot. But it is definitely intense now. To the point that, late last evening, I realized I had burned through more calories than I usually do and my tummy was empty. And wanting ice cream, of all things. So off to the dollar store I went!!

And, boy, did I stand there and ponder.  Because, you know, I don’t want to bombard myself with junk. But I really, really wanted ice cream. It’s great that they put the calorie count right on the front of the tubs now. So I went for the lowest-calorie one with the least amount of bad stuff in it that would still be considered delicious ice cream.

And as I was getting ready to pay for it, a wee tiny voice in the far back of my brain cried out plaintively: buy milk! buy milk!

But for some fucking reason, I did not buy milk!! And now I am out again! But I still have coffee to drink!!

Aaaarrrgggh… Back to the dollar store I shall have to go.

A few days ago, at the store in town, I bought a really cool looking jar of instant coffee. I never drink instant coffee. But this jar had the coolest shape to it, and it was actually made of glass. And it didn’t cost much. I was just so attracted to the jar itself. And the instant coffee made me think of my friend/colleague in Exeter, England — the musician/artist who is a Croatian war exile. (I’ve blogged about him before.) But when I stayed with him in his place in Exeter, we always drank instant coffee and had very long, wonderful conversations. So it made me think very fondly of him.

So I bought the instant coffee, and I’m actually drinking it now in the afternoons, which means I’m going through way more milk than usual. (Because instant coffee tastes terrible, so you have to put a lot of milk in it.)

I’m guessing you think I’m insane, but my point here is that it’s an hour there & back, to the fucking market, because I live in the fucking middle of nowhere. I’d really rather not buy milk from the dollar store or the gas station, unless it’s, like, right now, and I fucking have to because I’m out of it. Again.

Which sort of reminds me (only because my Croatian friend in Exeter is gay)… if loyal readers of this lofty blog recall that, early last summer, a deaf guy made me that guitar-pick necklace? Well, he is also mentally handicapped. He can speak, but he’s loaded with stuff to enable him to hear.

I saw him the other day. He said, “Do you still have that necklace I made for you?”

And of course, I do. I just treasure that thing. So much. I was astounded when he gave it to me.  Out of the clear blue sky. That he even thought of me at all.

Well, he looked depressed. I mean, he actually looked on the verge of tears. I said, “What’s wrong?” And he was very angry at his girl friend because she had called him a homosexual. And then he said, “But I’m bisexual. I’m not homosexual. It’s not the same thing. I like boys and girls.”

I was just astounded that he was telling me this. (But I blogged about this recently — how young guys have always seemed to feel very comfortable telling me about their sexuality.) I was very supportive of him, you know. Obviously.  And it sounds like his girlfriend is a bitch. I didn’t tell him that, but I did tell him that his girlfriend sounded ignorant and he might want to break up with her. But I thought to myself: wow, this is so amazing; he’s deaf and mentally handicapped and yet in touch with bisexuality.

Just kind of awesome, right? (Oh, plus, I’m old enough to be his grandmother.) Anyway, I told him that I understood what he was saying about himself because I was bisexual, too. That I like both guys and gals but that I’m not a lesbian.

And he said, “You’re bisexual?!”

I said, “Yes.”

And then he hugged me and he said, “I will keep this to myself.”

Oh my god. It was just too precious. Just so sweet. It made my day.

Okay, well. I’m gonna grab lunch. Finish the taxes. (I think. Maybe.) (In fact, Wayne, my ex-husband in NYC, just now texted me my old accountant’s current phone number in NYC because, clearly, this is the last time I should attempt to do my own taxes!) And then I’m gonna feel a little bit more of the Booty Core burn!!

Oh, and last night, as Kansas City was winning the Superbowl, oddly enough, I was watching the episode of Ken Burns’ Jazz that’s all about Count Basie and the Kansas City stomp/jazz/blues/swing era. Another really great episode!! So much stuff that I didn’t know about Kansas City. So I’m gonna leave you today with “One O’clock Jump”! By Count Basie and his Orchestra, from 1937. Enjoy, gang. It really swings.

Okay, thanks for visiting. Have a terrific Monday, okay? I love you guys. See ya!

Feeling the Burn, Yes-sirree!!

Yes, I woke up this morning fresh and happy!! And I thought: hey, why not do my taxes today? Get all that out of the way. Get my refund sooner rather than later. Let go of 2019 and move fully into 2020!!

And so I got out of bed, fed the cats, fed myself. Took my cup of coffee back upstairs. Did the meditation, the Inner Being dialogue thingy. Went and sat at my desk.

I was focused. All my paperwork was in its handy tax-paperwork file thingy next to my desk because, for some weird reason, throughout every entire year, I keep all my tax stuff in one specific file and filing my taxes has become sort of a breeze. Sort of. All things considered, you know. (For a long, drawn out reason that I won’t go into on the blog, I co-own government-subsidized property in Maine.)

But anyway. So there I was. Ready. Then suddenly, I was sitting and staring.

And then suddenly I was thinking about the new Booty Core workout (online) class that I’m doing and how great it’s going. And I began wondering if maybe continuing to feel the burn in my quite comely behind (okay — for a gal who’s almost 60, it’s quite comely…still) — I wondered if maybe that might not be way more fun than doing my taxes!!

And it was!

So I’m thinking that maybe tomorrow I’ll do my taxes!! (As they used to say back in Queens, NY, 30 years ago: Yeah! That’s the ticket!!) So tomorrow it is, then. (And I think this might be the last year that I’ll be able to get away with doing my taxes myself. Which is nice & inexpensive. Not that I don’t actually love my accountant in NYC– I do. But, still. Well. Anyway. I think it’s going to be a whole different kind of year than it’s been for the past two.)

And you know, this Booty Core thing has already made a noticeable  difference in my core muscles, which were actually kind of worrying me after I had that episode in December where my legs gave out and I couldn’t get out of bed. So, for whatever subconscious reason that I decided to suddenly switch from yoga to something more Pilates-oriented — I think it was a really good idea. Plus, it’s fun.

I don’t think it will actually replace yoga for me, because it doesn’t have that spiritual element to it that yoga has, which calms me and centers me and uplifts me. But I think that when this 21-day program is over, I’ll keep doing it sort of part-time.

Well, today is the day that the director will be reading my new version of the Tell My Bones script and I can’t wait to hear his comments. Plus, I think he’ll be able to tell me exactly what’s missing from that closing chunk of dialogue that I don’t think is really working yet. The language of the dialogue is good, but it doesn’t feel emotionally anchored to me. Something’s missing.

And then, you know, once that whole thing is tackled — another trip back to New York!

It is really sunny and beautiful here today. And I’m just feeling sort of dreamy & happy. Like all I want to really do is lie around on the bed and look out the window and just think about life. So that’s probably what I’m going to do.

I spoke really briefly, yesterday, to a female friend who completely surprised me and said she was thinking about maybe moving out here to Crazeysburg and finding a house to buy. She’s in her late 40s, gay, divorced, with 3 grown kids. I just love hanging out with her. Even though it might prove super distracting to getting my work done, man — I would just love it if she were sort of one of my neighbors!! She drinks & smokes, of course. And she’s actually an ex-hooker with a heart of gold (before she realized she was gay). Truly from the really poor side of the tracks, as they say (in her childhood, anyway), but she is this amazing and compassionate and funny human being. And we actually have a lot in common, underneath all this glamour of mine. So we’ll see. It’s a huge transition from city life to Crazeysburg.

Okay, then. On that note. I’m gonna get down to laying around in bed and staring out the window!! And await word from the director re: Tell My Bones.

I hope you have a wonderful Sunday, wherever you are in the world! Enjoy the Superbowl, if that’s your thing!! Thanks for visiting, gang. I love you guys. See ya.

A couple of white-trash chicks in Crazeysburg, sitting around, talking…

The Better it Gets, Gang, the Better it Gets!

Okay, well. Yesterday was amazing. Peitor and I worked for hours (on the phone) but we got nothing new done on the “Lita” script because we wanted to start getting our Mission Statement down on paper for Abstract Absurdity Productions and figuring out how we wanted to approach the layout of the web site, etc. (which is my job to execute in my “spare” time!!).

And then, while in the midst of that, we wrote three new micro-micro-shorts. I’m so serious. It’s, like, insane. How creative we are together. And the stuff is so funny that, once again, I ended up crying.

And it’s not the kind of thing that a viewer would necessarily see as “funny.” More, like — hm. that went someplace I didn’t expect. And even though the micro-micro-shorts are under 60 seconds in length, they are complete stories and are just really complex as far as filmmaking and ideas and sound, which, to Peitor and me, is a large part of what makes it so funny.

But it did, again, become extremely apparent that I’m going to have to spend a lot more time in Los Angeles. And I’m super hoping that my birth mom is going to be okay with practically living here when the time comes.

It is her birthday today, btw. She is 73. And it also would have been my stepmom’s birthday. So I called my dad first thing this morning and he’s not doing so great today. But overall, he’s managing.

And oddly enough, Peitor’s dad died yesterday morning. But that’s sort of really personal to him so I can’t comment on that. I can only say that we were off-the-charts creative yesterday. And just all day and on into the night — when I wasn’t thinking curiously about Nick Cave’s final Conversation in Brussels and wondering how on Earth I would live the rest of my life without knowing where he is, what he’s wearing and what he’s talking about, I was thinking about one specific story Peitor and I had thought up yesterday and it would just make me laugh out loud.

Which leads to the topic of the final Conversation in Brussels last night. Only a couple of photos of Nick Cave were posted to Instagram, but quite a few photos of the enormous sign in the theater lobby stating that phones weren’t allowed during the performance were posted. So, people in Brussels apparently have a strong belief in the truth of signs.

[mini update: as the morning went on, tons of photos and videos got posted, including him singing “15 Feet of Pure White Snow”!!!! Yay!!]

[another update — it looks like someone got engaged on the stage in Brussels last night!?]

I know, I know. I really and truly hate when people take out their phones in any type of performance space. I really do. And it’s really great that some people somewhere still know how to experience their lives without their phones. I’m actually that way myself. I would rather revisit what’s in my mind than what’s on my phone. Still… man, Jeez. Well. Okay, I’m not gonna go there. Don’t use your phones when you’re not supposed to!

The director of Tell My Bones texted yesterday saying that by Sunday night, he would have time to read the script and have comments for me re: the new character arc. I know I still want to work on the final bit of dialogue before the final song, but I am really eager to hear what he thinks of the new stuff. Because, honestly, I think this play is just about almost entirely finished!!!!! (Until it goes into actual table-reads…)

But this also means that I have all of today and tomorrow to either get to work on the new website, or even maybe take a little break and just do Booty Core (see yesterday’s post) and then relax!! Who knows? We shall see.

Meanwhile, have a happy Saturday, gang, wherever you are in the world! Thanks for visiting. I leave you with my breakfast-listening music from this morning. I just love the atmosphere of this entrancing song! From 2009, “Listen the Snow is Falling” by Thea Gilmore (but it’s from the Lennon/Ono Wedding Album, originally, but this version is just so hypnotic.). All righty. I love you guys. See ya.

“Listen the Snow is Falling”

Listen, the snow is falling over town
Listen, the snow is falling everywhere
Between Empire State Building
And between Trafalgar Square
Listen, the snow is falling over town

Listen, the snow is falling over town
Listen, the snow is falling everywhere
Between your bed and mine
Between your head and my mind
Listen, the snow is falling over town

Between Tokyo and Paris
Between London and Dallas
Between your love and mine
Listen, the snow is falling everywhere

Snowdrift, snowfall, snowfall
Listen

c – 1969 John Lennon & Yoko Ono