Ariel and all her quality

Haven't been here in quite a while. And for those of you who don't really care: screw you.

No, screw you.

Rehearsals for The Tempest are going well, but the tryranny and exacting acuteness of Dr. Booze has me mourning the loss of my artistic freedom and feeling incredibly tired. The grandeur of this production (or at least the concept for it) have me very wary of our ability to produce it in only 5 weeks. I'm going to fly. As in up in the air. As in I'm hanging 30 feet over the stage and the only thing keeping me from death is a harness and a prayer. Awesome. Off book Tues. I'm almost there.

Am in a bit of a weird mood due to certain insinuations that have been flying concerning myself. Insinuations that most definitely would not arise were it not for the fact that I have a vagina. I really wouldn't care, but someone else could be hurt in the process, and that's what is irritating.

There might be more silence here on the way, but that depends on how much rehearsals are going to make me want to kill myself. If I'm going at a mild mame, then we're okay, but if I get to wrist slashing, you won't hear a lot out of me for a while.

Exeunt Sparks, stage left.