Most boring life, ever

So. Here's what I did this past three-day weekend:

Saturday: Patrick went to the NAMM show. I slept in and read, and listened to one half of "Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me" while I took a shower. I love Roy Blount, Jr. I watched all the reruns of "Reba" I taped during the week. I also love "Reba."

At 6 I got in my car and drove to Santa Monica, where I ran the lights for "The Bald Soprano." The director was a little late, so I spent about fifteen minutes shivering in front of the theater with the cast, while they ran lines. I shot the shit with my friend Bo, now playing "Mr. Smith" (before the break, he was "Mr. Martin"). I think I made somebody laugh. Ding-dong, ding-dong! It was a fine performance, and damn cold in there. Afterwards, I drove the director home and met her new kitten, a tiny black ball of fur named Sasha. I started planning how I might spend more time with Sasha.

Sunday, Patrick slept in, and I got up at some point. I listened to the same one half of "Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me" (weekends suck on KPCC). I took a shower. I read some more, watched some trashy TV, plucked my eyebrows, and reminded Patrick that we were both going to Santa Monica, as we had planned the 10th annual (I don't know how many years it is. It ain't ten. But "10th Annual" sounds better than "4th Annual") Rizzoli Christmas get-together. Well, not really "planned" - someone (me) sent the following email to the former Rizzoli crew:

Your former management team is currently starring in/playing a behind-the-scenes role in the play "The Bald Soprano" by Eugene Ionesco at City Garage Theatre. The show just wrapped up eight weeks or so of a highly successful run (packed house, turning people away at the door, excellent reviews - go to www.citygarage.org to read them, and for contact info to make your reservation!) and is on a break for the holidays... but will be returning January 12, 2008, for another four weekends. Bo Roberts [former music manager at Rizzoli] will star as Mr. Smith, a man with a wife "more intelligent and feminine" than he. And that wife is played by our very own, the lovely David E. Frank [former general manager]. Paul [former holiday worker/worst Christmas wrapper, ever] will most likely be running the place, giving the actor's "places" and keeping the not dimwitted at all [that wasn't self-deprecating humor, I was talking about the young guy from the company who really isn't dimwitted, not in the slightest; I used "dimwitted" for comic effect. yeah, yeah] box office person in line. And me [former operations/boutique manager], well, I'll be in the booth, running the lights and sound and making sure nobody's standing there in the dark or waiting for a doorbell to ring.

That email was enticing to three people: Sarah, Maria, and her new fiance. Afterwards, we went to dinner at Johnnys New York Pizza (the food was good, service was terrible), and it was fun to all be together again in Santa Monica. David's wife Susan tried to convince Patrick that we should move home to Venice (she's English; she and David have lived in Santa Monica, the Palisades, and Venice. I appreciated her vigorous-ness, but it isn't going to happen. The house I would like, in Santa Monica (just up the street from Sasha the kitten) is going for 2.2 million. If I can't have an $11,000 bass flute, what do you think the odds are of me having a $2.2 million dollar home?

Yeah, no.

Monday was spent in bed, watching about 12 hours of America's Next Top Model (the one where Nicole won from out of nowhere). Literally: IN BED - I got out of bed just to get more food. I slept a little, but mostly I watched television. I think maybe I was a little upset that we had to go to work today. I can't wait until our holiday in February, when we go to El Paso.

Today at work was busy. Lots of crap to do, lots of people to talk to, and I was a tad bit grumpy. After work I got a hair cut, and I love it. New guy named Carlos, in Downey. He's fun, and showed me how to do it (though, part of doing it involves hot rollers, and seriously, what are the chances of that happening? How's that $2.2 million dollar house looking now?), and showed me photos of his dog Sheila. I liked him, and I like my hair.

And now I'm home, where I just finished a dinner of a chicken breast cooked on the George Forman grill, some garbanzo beans, and a piece of yummy ciabatta bread. I re-read "By the Shores of Silver Lake," just because the book was lying there (I had loaned my hardback to my niece and had not yet put it away). And now I'm doing laundry and considering washing the dishes.

Tomorrow we're going to David and Susan's to play Guitar Hero. Last night I played a little, and couldn't beat "Lou" on Medium ("The Devil Went Down to Georgia" is a tricky song! Who knew, what with that stupid solo of the devil's being so laaaame). But it doesn't matter, because David's still on Easy.

Ha!