(no subject)

There is theoretically a long post for me to make about the play, being a good sport and my general modes of being (and of course childhood trauma, because really what is poetic self-analysis without it), but, alas, I've been cheered by kind words from good friends, intense reasoning with from the gf, and wrting a gushing email to my cast. And now I'm tired, so I'm going to bed, while absently thinking of the next projects -- which means the other short plays D&J in this form fits with, a full-length version of D&J and of course, chihuahuas. I loathe any moment where I'm not working, and I think spending six weeks on this has made me antsy about not acting, so time to dive into the next thing, whatever it may be.

Watched Kinsey tonight on cable, and was soothed by its loveliness.

jumping on the johari thing

http://kevan.org/johari?name=rm

There weren't like any negative adjectives that I sort of really wanted, maybe that's fucked up.

(note, my brain keeps saying "Jopari" which is a character in HDM).

(no subject)

There is snow coming and the abrupt pressure and temperature changes are making me entire face hurt.

(no subject)

Jingoistic inanity that it often inspires aside, I just love the Olympics. But it makes me cry, a lot. Watching the opening ceremony now, and I must note just two things, neither realted to crying:

1. ballroom dancers in cow costumes
2. I think the theme is all about passion, but mostly I feel like we just get to see a lot of writhing around via Dante.