Odds and sods, chapter 1814

From this week-end: Leaning towers and Repentance


With the first week-end of the play over, life can now go back to normal. Sitting at home, watching 30 Rock and The Avengers. Taking up running with Corb. Preparing our great road trip down the East Coast. Finishing that Twain autobiography. Getting back to actually writing about things, in a style that less resembles a haiku and more resembles a coherent story-line.

Well, almost. Tonight I've been invited for sushi with Hot Coco. The great party machine that has been Guys and Dolls rolls on, and I love it.

Oh, and at work, I'm computerless, which is really harshing my mellow. the hard drive crashed over the week-end. "Bad drive," I'm told. Bad drive...I need to get things done! I have no time for bad drives. Today I'm working at home, so I can at least have some computer access and get some projects moving.

What have I learned about this whole experience? Oh, so many things. Work with people you like being around, because it makes the entire process so much more enjoyable. Also, cast the right people in the right roles, and let them go to town. I am by nature a collaborative director, and the ongoing discussions I've had with my leads, with the ensemble, with the set crew, have really been a source of enjoyment and made the show better.

This is one show I won't look back on and say, "Ugh, not that." And I think a big thing I learned was that no matter what the end result, how you get there is just as important. At least, for me.

Thursday, back to New York for a day. Looking forward to that.

Oh, and did I mention, I'm profiled in a book that just came out by Writer's Digest? It's called "Writer with a Day Job," by Aine Greaney. The book came out the same week as the opening of the show, so I was too tied up to mention it. Anyway, it's a handy guide for writer's looking to hone their craft, and you get a section of me talking about my writing process and endless ruminations on my kids and ex-wife. I mean, what else would you expect?

Corb just woke up and, while heading to the bathroom to drain his wang, muttered "typey typey." True, but I have to admit, getting up in the morning and just typing for even a half an hour is a nice way to start the day. Time to get back in the habit.

Maybe next time I'll even write about something that has some substance to it. Who knows? 

Southern exposure.

I am Anthony's weiner. Gaze upon me and despair.

Here I am, for all the world to see, captured like a fly in amber, shown in all my glory, in my native jungle habitat, struggling to break free from my tight cotton-knit enclosure, poking around like a stick trying to bust open a pinata.

Want to know a secret?

I didn't really ask to be paraded around for all the world to see. I was perfectly happy, if you want to know the truth, just letting Anthony talk to a pretty lady while I dangled salaciously between his legs.

Oh, I was asking for some attention, that's true. Some tender loving care. Some movement of the man meat. I'll admit that one, sure. But really, I was looking more for a visit from "I am Anthony's hand" than anything else. I mean, it was late, you know? Can you blame a guy for wanting a little happy ending?

Yell at the brain. Honestly! That damn brain's the genius that decided it'd be fun to get me to stand up and bobble around on camera. Say cheese! Stupid brain. Seriously, I didn't ask for it, not one bit! And even I wanted to, I can't talk. No vocal cords down there, you know!

Not that I mind the exposure. I mean, what self-respecting penis would? Hey, maybe I'm not the biggest act in town, but I can hold my own. I've seen other ones in he locker room.

I mean, I guess. Right? You'd say I could hold my own, right? Come on, just tell me that. I mean, I know I'm not related to Ron Jeremy or anything, but even so...

What's that? Tiny? You called me...tiny? Well, *sputter*...screw you! I dare you to come over here and say that. I'd spit in your face, I would. All over your face. That'd show you!

Ah, you'll forget about me. You will! I'm just a four to six inch pocket rocket of sunshine, here to brighten your day for a day or two. Just the latest in an endless string of political dicks, spanning both sides of the political aisle, from Bill Clinton to Larry Craig. I may be the latest, but I'm not the last. Although I am the first to be seen on Twitter. Maybe that counts for something.

But let's be honest, for just a minute.

You know who really should have spent MORE time on Twitter? Anthony's chest and abs.

Now THERE's something worth talking about...