November 10, 2003, 7:44 pm
You may laugh and scoff all you want about my stupidity, but seriously, no one warned me that boiling oyster shells is quite possibly the foulest stench on God's green earth. My gorgeous, spacious house now smells akin to a crusty barnacle on a pirate's ass right now. Good God.
So the play is in full swing. It opens on Friday, and quite frankly, I'm a mess about it. In addition to it just not coming together, I'm concerned that a) the parents will hate it and run me out of town for producing it, b) the kids won't care enough to bring it full circle or to give it depth, and c) everyone will finally discover I have no fucking idea what I'm doing, and will say so. I'm also quite nervous as I'll be seeing katslater for the first time in a long time, and she's a theatre person and a person whose opinion I value very much. She'll tell me if it sucks, and while I welcome such criticism, I'd really like for her to feel good about seeing it at her alma mater.
I'm too nice, I think. I feel stupid enforcing rules now because I was so grateful for people to show up that I didn't think things through, and now I'm suffering. I hate that I'm this way.
I hate that I have great control in the classroom but have no control in my theatre group.
I hate that I want to quit my job this summer.
I hate that I fucked up yesterday. Damn you, St. Louis! Coincidentally, my husband Kyle will be spending more time at home as he's out for the rest of the season. Poo. Due to popular demand, I'll make my picks a regular part of the weekend.
Did you like how I called that Tennessee game to be "a close one"? Uh, yeah. Just like the Indy game with the Panthers was a "Please." I've always wanted my own football column since reading the weekly "Punt, Pass, and Pick" column in my college newspaper. Care to place some bets?
And AnnaRain? You're on.