Managing Expectations, Or Not

I always say that hope is the first step towards disappointment.



And yet I can't help but be a tiiiiiiiny bit excited to spend tomorrow night with this guy.

I Only Need Three Walls These Days

I have a brain like flypaper that catches onto things indiscriminately and never lets them go. While I was in bed with my bowl of cereal this morning, I had the most random memory. I was in a musical called Once On This Island my senior year of high school, and we did something ridiculous like two weeks' worth of matinees for schoolchildren.

There was -- of COURSE -- a smoke machine effect at some point in the production that set off the smoke alarm during one of these matinees. So we're standing outside, the schoolchildren huddled together, the cast bunched together near the stage door. And we're goofing off, joking, pushing and shoving, probably making out at random intervals, and then one of the leads swooped over to us.

"Guys. GUYS. Stay in character, okay??"

And we all nodded. Chastened.

I don't know why that cracks me up so much, but it was just so ridiculously EARNEST, as if the theater we were doing which was anything other than (Gemma, back me up on this?), say, mediocre plus? That we somehow thought that letting the fourth wall crumble would have DIRE CONSEQUENCES?

He Can Read Me Any Old Thing He Wants

Actual post with actual thought and ideas and maybe even feelings to come.

Cracked My Cynical Heart Right In Two.

When You Know the Notes To Sing

Apparently, this was a promotional event for the Belgian version of the BBC's reality series "In Search of Maria," a program that found the woman who's now playing the role of Maria in "The Sound of Music" playing in London's West End. This has been making its rounds around the internet for a few days now, but it makes me so freaking happy I had to share.

I mean, come ON.

Really?

Things I Ate While Asleep, Vol. Million

I'm about to have houseguests for four nights. I'm actually kind of hoping some weird sleep antics will go down, so I'll at least have the testimony of witnesses.

Last night was a particularly fitful night of sleep. I remember getting up and NEEDING pudding. I remember thinking, "Too bad I can't sleep" and picking up the book in bed next to me and reading for a long while. I don't remember getting up to get cereal, but I was fervently clutching the box when I woke up (sorry for the neglect, blanket) and had Honey Nut Cheerios in my hair, sooooo....you tell me.

I did have a very clear memory of finishing my book, so I threw it in my bag along with the others I needed to return to the library and dropped it off. While I walked home, I realized that while I had a clear memory of FINISHING the book, I had (and still have) no memory of WHAT ACTUALLY HAPPENED in the final chapters.

And that is why I will never know how Tori Spelling's autobiography ends.