Here’s a little secret: we’re halfway through the run and still rockin’!

So…

(a) I forgot to mention how fun it was to hang a bit with James this past weekend. You never know what to expect with web friends; happily, James continues my lucky streak.

(b) Another web cutie has reared his well-trimmed head.

(c) Theatre and theater are two different things. My friend Jack brought this orthographic issue to my attention, so I figure now’s as good a time as any to clear up the confusion.

Simply put, theatre refers to the art form, theater to the physical site at which it is performed. Ergo:

George Bernard Shaw wrote many theatre works, but heaven forbid you actually go to a theater to see one performed.

Or:

Last night, Xavier and I saw the most amusing piece of theatre in the parking lot of the 7-11,

but,

As I walked out of the poorly-designed theater and into the street, I was nearly run down by an unmarked vehicle driven by a woman who, for all intents and purposes, might have been the ghost of Bella Abzug.

Pretentious? Perhaps. But it’s all in the name of good grammar.

Lord, how’d I miss this? A thoroughly reasonable, rational editorial in the Times-Picayune criticizing the anti-civil union bill currently being debated in the State House of Representatives? How’d that happen?

During my brief New York residency, there was an amazing public art project on 42nd Street. Called simply “The 42nd Street Project,” artists took over abandoned shop fronts between Broadway and 8th Avenue and did as they pleased with them. Todd Oldham gussied up an erstwhile peep show with kitchy 60s designs. Nam June Paik installed a few dozen monitors and played endless loops of his video work. But to me, the best was the work of Jenny Holzer, who placed her truisms on the street’s many empty theatre marquees. Walking down the sidewalk, glancing up at the marquees was a jarring experience: where you might expect to see titles like “The Young and the Hung XXII” or “Kitten Natividad’s All-Girl Revue,” instead you got little lectures, little epiphanies. It was breathtaking, in a way.

Today, while waiting for some documents to upload on my blazing 56k dial-up, I was flipping through a book of Ms. Holzer’s and accidentally rediscovered some of these pieces. For the both of you who’ve never seen/heard them, here’s a few of my favorites:

YOU LIVE THE SURPRISE RESULTS OF OLD PLANS.

IT IS IN YOUR SELF-INTEREST TO FIND A WAY TO BE VERY TENDER.

THE BREAKDOWN COMES WHEN YOU STOP CONTROLLING YOURSELF AND WANT THE RELEASE OF A BLOODBATH.

SPIT ALL OVER SOMEONE WITH A MOUTHFUL OF MILK IF YOU WANT TO FIND OUT SOMETHING ABOUT HIS PERSONALITY FAST.

Bear with me, folks. I’m dealing with:

1. An aging, whiny, ludicrously insecure actor (wait, that’s redundant).

2. Projects I never knew about, all of which have deadlines I can’t possibly meet–at least, not without a batallion of monkey butlers schooled in Quark who’ve been trained to do my bidding.

3. About a squillion production details for current and upcoming shows.

4. Renovation of a 160-year old house (still).

5. A Great Coffee Famine, which began when my Mr. Coffee decided it didn’t want to hold water any more.

6. Two flea-ridden hounds and a cat that’s prone to knock over breakables at 4:37am with frightening regularity.

Surprisingly enough, taxes aren’t on my to-do list–somehow I got my ass in gear and filed ’em early. Who knew?

Just in case any of you were wondering, we’re a hit!

Looking back on the past weeks’ posts, it seems like my life’s been pretty dull. Nothing funny has happened to me. Nothing seriously tragic, either. My boyfriend went away on a mini-vacation, but with everything else going on in my life, the only time his absence really got to me was at night, as I lay in bed alone with the hounds. I feel like I’ve been working non-stop with very little to show for it.

But despite my overall fatigue and the lethargy that’s creeping upon me as temperatures begin to rise, I find myself getting busier and busier. I’m involved with at least three productions going up this summer. And I’m doing much more reading and writing than I used to. And I’m finally getting motivated to organize the piles of bills, clippings, and other crap sitting on my desk.

Curious.

Factoid: today’s obsession is none other than Daniel Auteuil. Congratulations, Daniel!

We interrupt today’s blog for a special news bulletin: Rip Taylor is still alive. Repeat: Rip Taylor is still alive.

We now return you to your regularly scheduled programming.

Gasp. Pant. Gasp. Wheeze. Gasp…. Jesus H. Mary and Joseph, what a weekend.

As I own a penis, I’ve never had the opportunity to experience giving birth to a child, but I can only imagine that it feels a lot like the last-minute push we made to get Camille up and running (minus the buckets of blood, of course). Between the layout of the programs and the stitching of petticoats and the down-to-the-wire tech, I thought it’d never get done. But of course, it did. And I must say, I think we did pretty damn well. All the major reviewers came, and unless my ears deceived me, they all had a good time (by now, I know their laughs by heart). Of course, we’ll see how the reviews themselves turn out….

Only drawback? There’s no A/C in the place, and we’re having a bit of a pre-summer heatwave. That’s fine for around the pool, but not so nice when you’re wearing a wool tuxedo and a bad toupee. At least the rent’s cheap.

Over the next few days, I hope to fully regain conciousness and catch up on my sleep. After that, I’ll probably be a little funnier and a lot more engaging. Until then…

P.S. I unloaded a roll of film the other day that must’ve been two years old. Not too many pics on it, but there was a pretty good one of the boyfriend at Decadence. See?