It’s been a horrid day. While mulled wine, made in the microwave, eased the cough I can’t shake enough for me to sleep last night, it knocked me out to the point where I overslept today, and never did manage to shower or dress, beyond the addition of underwear and old comfy (ripped in a thousand places) cotton leggings. I also managed to spill said wine on my soft, blue, cotton NaNoWriMo shirt, thus making it look as though I was shot. My grandmother, if she had been buried instead of cremated, would be rolling in her grave. If she were still alive, she’d be calling me words like “ragamuffin” and “you look like a miserable wretch,” and she’d be write.

So the day started badly.

It then got worse. I broke my blog, lost the piece I was writing for work – twice – spilled water on electronic equipment, jammed my printer, and knocked my already-damaged keyboard tray off it’s rollers thus breaking it MORE, and I fought with Fuzzy, and the cord on my keyboard isn’t long enough to put on the top of my desk because of the way the cords are strung, and Fuzzy brought me DayQuil instead of a dedicated cough suppressant, but it just doesn’t work, and I don’t have enough of my work stuff loaded onto the MacBook to use it exclusively.

I just want to scream.

AAAAAAARRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Actually, that felt kind of good.

My skin is dry, and itchy, and lotion isn’t helping, and I’m drinking tons of water, but it’s not helping either. I’m tired and crabby didn’t get as much done today as I’d hoped.

Also, Macs seriously need to look into the concept of right-click. And the Vaio has way better video.

A friend in Houston is getting married this weekend, and after being sick on and off all year (so far), I’m really excited about getting away, even though it’s only overnight. We wanted to stay longer, but this is a bad weekend for that, so Fuzzy’s agreed I can book a weekend at a B&B in Galveston for later this spring.

In any case, Friday night we’re staying at the Hotel Indigo, recommended by the bride, and it looks fantastic. Their design theme is all very nautical, and their philosophy involves Fibonacci sequences and Phi, as well as the nautilus. The rooms all have cushy high beds with tons of pillows, hardwood floors, and frou-frou showers, and there’s a Starbucks in the lobby. The decor in the pictures is very similar to my own tastes, and has me wanting to paint the house. (We’re starting with the kitchen.)

I’m thinking about painting our bedroom blue. A cheery blue. With sneaker white trim. I like nautical colors – our bedding now runs toward nautical themes. Blue and that sunny-but-not-overwhelming Italian yellow. Happy colors.

Stayed up too late cleaning because I was wired. Off to work now.

I say… And you think…?

1. Nude :: naked
2. Support :: system
3. Rachel:: Ross
4. Crane :: Paper
5. Candy bar :: Ghirardelli
6. Material :: istic
7. Mind games :: Brainfuck
8. Eviction :: Notice
9. Produce :: Direct
10. Joke :: Cosmic

Like this meme? Play along here.

In playing in meme-land I’ve recently been introduced to Sunday Scribblings. This week, they’re asking about Superstition.

When you grow up living and breathing theatre, you hear about theatrical superstitions from the ground up – never wish anyone “good luck,” a bad dress rehearsal means a good opening night, never whistle in a theatre, never put a hat on a bed, never refer to a certain Shakespeare play by name, but rather as The Scottish Play, etc. For someone like me, though, with an active imagination, the crowning superstition is that of the Unfinished Story.

It’s a common theme in entertainment – characters enter a scenario only to be locked in until the story plays out, at which point everything ‘resets,’ and, for me at least, it’s related mostly to scary stories. I refer to unfinished from the reader’s perspective, in this, and not the writer’s, though the corresponding writerly superstition would be “talk about it and the story dies.”

But I digress.

There’s a kind of power in a tale that hasn’t ended. Until you get to the ending, you don’t know if the vampire will be dusted, or the war will be averted, or the lovers will reunite, and if you’re me, and read a lot of scary stories, and have an imagination that runs away with you, you NEED to know how things end.

Case in point. I recently read a novel called Fangland, which I mentioned here, I think, was so creepy I had to read it in daylight. It was the kind of story that lingered in my mind, whispering at me as if walls between reality and fiction had grown thin, and the whispers didn’t cease, couldn’t cease, until I’d read the tale to the end, and the resolution had been accepted.

So, that’s my superstition: Stories must never be left unfinished.

I’ve confirmed that it’s the software for my cell card that causes Norton to disallow the checking of email. Stupid software.

Woke today all dry and scratchy-throated. Couldn’t breathe. Lungs hurt, head’s all spinny.  Fuzzy’s insisting I’m too sick for workshop, but even though I know I’m running a fever, I feel guilty for staying home.

My week is always off-kilter when there’s no workshop. :(

Okay, too much whining. Whining never helps. Something good: Mac arrives to-morrow. Yay, new toy, better workflow.

The best therapy for a wrenched knee is the traditional RICE treatment. Rest – Ice – Compression – Elevation. But the second-best therapy is the one I chose, and it worked wonders. My therapy? Ignoring it completely and taking part in an improv show.

I could barely walk even as late as this afternoon, and I was hopped up on cold meds, but I gathered every ounce of reserve I had, and went to the show, with my ponytail bouncing. I have a friend visiting from the frozen north (Minnesota) after all, and I wanted her to see me on the field.

I was tickled to find out that I was playing on the Red team, and that my teammates were Captain BigE and TC. He asked us for input about games, and neither of us wanted to choose, and the Blue team was having similar issues, so RefB called us to warm up and sent the captains to make decisions. Warm ups weren’t anything exceptional, but they did keep me from focusing on my knee, which was good. By the end of it, I was ready to go. It wasn’t until almost time for vending that BigE said, “We’re playing interrogation and audience sound effects,” and I was excited about both, until he told me I was guessing for interrogation. I’ve only played it once, and never even workshopped guessing, but one of the things that’s cool about playing with BigE is that he pushes me to try stuff I’ve never tried. “You’ll do fine,” he coaxed. “It’s easy.”

It wasn’t exactly easy, and I made a few mistakes, but in the end I guessed correctly that I was coloring outside the lines in a park in France with James Brown. And If I get to play it again, ever, I’ll know how the game ‘feels’ from that POV, and won’t make the same mistakes.

Blue played a game of Moving Bodies that had really good puppeteers. They also played Dinner at Joe’s. We played Blind Line, and then, Five Things – which was tough. Really tough. We never finished the fifth thing, and didn’t get the fourth. Or maybe we did. It went to fast I don’t remember.

Blue played Dance Party after half time, and had some interesting justifications. We ended with Story followed by 185.

Blue won, and notes were long, and specific, but really constructive. I learned a LOT tonight. I had my back to the audience more than once, and shouldn’t have, stuff like that.

But my knee? That’s not bothering me at ALL.

Appetizer
What does the color pink make you think of?
Cherry bubble bath, and linzer tarts, the heart shaped ones with the lingenberry jam in the center.

Soup
Name something you thought you had lost, but later found.
My nerve. For a while after Valentine’s Day I was dreading ComedySportz, but then I found my courage again. Now, I’m eager to play, even though I’m still kind of sniffly.

Salad
In 3 words, describe this past week.
Sunny, sniffly, brief.

Main Course
What are you obsessed with?
These days it’s all about books and BPAL perfume, though improv is still a big obsession. I’m happy about sunny not-humid weather, but it won’t last long. Oh, and I crossed to the dark side and ordered a macbook that has yet to be shipped, so I’m a little obsessed about that.

Dessert
What kind of perfume or cologne do you like to wear?
First? I only wear oils, because the alcohol-based sprays drive me nuts – too strong, too much perfumey scent. I like the stuff from BPAL because it’s interesting to try and sniff out the notes, and because their descriptions are half the fun.

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Thirteen Things about MissMeliss13 of my favorite comfort foods. Peanut butter, banana, and honey sandwiches on lightly toasted whole grain bread. Macaroni & Cheese – preferably the kind from Stouffer’s, made so there’s a blistery skin on the top. Pasta e fagioli – an Italian noodle and bean soup, made meatless during Lent, but often can include meat during the rest of the year. Chili and cornbread – there’s something so completely soothing about a steaming bowl of chili. Sliced tomatoes – lightly salted, and preferably just off the vine and still warm from the sun. Pizza – either just cheese pizza, or with pepperoni. Thin crust. Cold coke. Falafel – Who new the chick pea could be so stylish. Wrapped in pita with tahini sauce, this is just smile-inducing. Beef stew – with a little red wine and a crusty bread to go with it. Cheeseburger, fries, and a chocolate milkshake – artery-hardening, but so tasty. Polenta – it’s more than cereal, less than a real meal. I’ve had it once or twice with gorgonzola – pungent but pleasant. Tuna fish with a hard boiled egg mixed in – my mother used to make this for me when I was a kid. It sounds gross, but really it’s quite tasty. Chocolate pudding, served still warm. It’s fine if there are bananas or Nilla wafers in it, but it’s also good naked. Cheesecake. Dry to the point of being crumbly, and more rich than sweet.

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Have been unwell, congested, sore throated, and sometimes nauseous, since three AM Monday morning. (I woke when Fuzzy came to bed, and fled to the bathroom to puke, then spent part of the next several hours lying on the cool tile of the bathroom – it felt so good against my feverish skin.)

Today, wrote some stuff for work, slept a lot, tried to breathe. Slept more, finished a book, went blog cruising and found a great post from John Baker about Sylvia Plath and cooking. (I also turn to The Joy of Cooking for recipe help at times.)

Am now watching The Day After Tomorrow on DVD while sipping the cold-buster smoothie that Fuzzy brought me from Jamba Juice.