(no subject)

I'm really really tired. THe bad shiraz and the really long wait for the PATH train didn't help. Work at 9am, and then a rehearsal.

There's this girl involved with the show who is the absolute spitting image of one of my obscure celebrity crushes, and it's incredibly disconcerting, and sort of hysterically funny for reasons I'll explain at some interval when I am lucid.

I owe lots of people email.

I was supposed to get paid today. Did I? No. How late is my 1st check? 20 days. How late is my second check? just a few. I should have them both by Tuesday, and maybe tomorrow. Which I'd like for a really long ass list of reasons.

Today I listened to a lot of music I haven't in a while -- Boheme because I finally found my CD, and I can't hear it without being utterly immersed in the show and really the whole context of those couple of months, which were really sort of extraordinary on a lot of fronts.

Also listened to a compilation CD I was given which has a lot of songs on it that meant a lot to me about a decade ago and I haven't thought of much. I burst into tears listening to Out of Range, for all sorts of weird reasons, a lot of them having to do with not being a certain type of young anymore, and not getting to be the type of young 20-something I really always felt I should, mainly because I was incompetent and needy. It's hard to explain, especially when I'm this out of it. But I was just sort of breathless from it and Tori Amos' Precious Things and Sinead O'Connor's Red Football (next time I need to sing a random grrrrrl! anthem of a song at an audition, someone remind me of this).

After being extremely disciplined with my eating habits for nearly two weeks I ate disgustingly today, and felt sick for it, and that made me glad, because I've never ever felt queasy from eating a week's worth of sugar in an hour before, and it's about damn time.

I feel old. Not in a good way or a bad way or even a remotely interesting way. Just. I feel old. And it's making me sad. I feel like the whole range of stuff that's led up to who I am now is a hell of a lot more interesting than who I am, and maybe that's normal, but... I dunno. I'm having a thing... in general, the word right now is cusp.... I feel like I'm on the wrong edge of lots of stuff, sometimes early and sometimes late.

A book I was interviewed for years and years ago came in the mail today. I'm not in it, and I am more grateful than I know how to express.

(no subject)

In one of my past jobs, I did an immense amount of work on issues related to corporate marketing and the privacy of medical records (HIPAA for the geeks). So with that in mind, I find this both incredibly disturbing and utterly mindboggling.

In a sharp departure from its past insistence on the sanctity of medical records, the Bush administration has set forth a new, more limited view of privacy rights as it tries to force hospitals and clinics to turn over records of hundreds and perhaps thousands of abortions.

http://www.nytimes.com/2004/03/06/politics/06PRIV.html

In my mind, one of the great, unspoken health issues of my lifetime (and probably anyone's) has been people lying on medical records -- the most common reasons being to protect their privacy, to get access to experimental treatments, or to get insurance to cover things it otherwise wouldn't. I've seen it about AIDS, abortion, STDs, drug use and an immense and random variety of pre-existing conditions. It ranges from trivial to beat the system to causing potentially life threatening issues when it comes to medication and proceedures.

This article judstifies a risky behavior because it seems to indicate that a particular paranoia isn't well... all that paranoid. And, as with so many other things going on with this administration, the precedent this sets is scariest of all.

If you're not clear on it yet, this is just one more reason, we're fighting for our lives and livelihoods in this election.

st. patrick's in hoboken

Back from rehearsal. Was an interesting lesson in how others perceive me. We also did this warm up where we had to say something good that happened to us this week -- just as fast as anything could pop into our heads. And um, nothing did, and I sort of freaked out. That was fun. Yeah.

Am very very tired, but I suppose that's already been established.

It was St. Patricks day in Hoboken today. They do it weeks earlier than anyone else so as not to interfere with all the other events in the area. I learned this from the hoards of drunk people with open containers on the PATH train, who apparently spend the entire month of March going from local celebration to local celebration. They told me about Manhattan and Brooklyn and Rockaway and Woodside.

In Hoboken itself there were lines of hundreds of people to get into every bar, and it had been like that since 10am apparently. Lucily there was also a parade with bagpipes and all that good stuff (I love love love bagpipes), and I couldn't help but thin of Michael and how much he always hated all of this. "Songs of the drunken potato rebellion" he called it. I wasn't impressed with the drunk people (were were in lines as long at the pizza parlors gearing up for round 2 on my way back), but I gotta say being Italian would be cooler if we had bagpipes.

Made me want to watch Road to Peridition.

The F train was messed up again and it was a bit of an oddyssey to get home. It's warm and gorgeou out and I want to be going around doing things and being famulous, but it's hard without having gotten my paycheck yet. I just keep telling myself, a few more days and I can eat outside, and go to Tartine, and check out the hamburgers made of weird animals at Sunburnt Cow. Just a few more days. Just a few more days.

(no subject)

I can't believe I just visited the Advair site so I could look at the pug.