![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
This morning, when I went to the Safeway, I left my house keys in the kitchen. For context, the number of times I have left my living space without my keys is approximately three in seven years. Anyway, the extremely reliably always-home people I left my spare key with were inexplicably in Half Moon Bay all day and my roommate is in Paris, so I had to call a locksmith. Jebus. Now I know a good reason to be thankful for my good memory: emergency locksmith services ran me $165. ::facepalm:: And I really did not need to lose the three and a half hours in which I waited around with some friends, dithered, and then waited for the locksmith. Erg.
We had a cast party last night, and let me tell you: theater people get mighty touchy-feely when they're drunk. The married, allegedly-straight guy playing one of the villains was constantly draping his arm over my shoulder and giving me "tips" on singing (um, thanks guy, but I've heard you sing and I'm not super-impressed), and the woman at whose house we were partying ended up passing out around 10:30. Her 30-year-old flamer friend (also in the cast), who I suspect she's been trying to set me up with, drank six bottles of something girly and was sloshed enough to suggest a trip to Badlands (somewhat trendy gay club in the Castro whose management has been accused of overtly racist hiring policies) for those who were not totally gone -- needless to say, I begged out. The party was also weird because I was one of two people not drinking; it seems so much social interaction is predicated on alcohol. It's not that that makes me uncomfortable, but it does confer "outsider" status.
Tomorrow starts my two weeks of hell: 14 days, 10 rehearsals, 1 preview night, 2 shows. I think we get Saturday the 21st off, but I'm not sure. It's possible that we get Friday off instead. Either one would be *really* nice.
Today is my last chance for cleaning and apartment-y things before the roommate gets home (late!), so it's time to break out the vacuum and attempt to do a cleaning job that will last until the show is over :-| Oh, and beta duty for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
phaballa.
We had a cast party last night, and let me tell you: theater people get mighty touchy-feely when they're drunk. The married, allegedly-straight guy playing one of the villains was constantly draping his arm over my shoulder and giving me "tips" on singing (um, thanks guy, but I've heard you sing and I'm not super-impressed), and the woman at whose house we were partying ended up passing out around 10:30. Her 30-year-old flamer friend (also in the cast), who I suspect she's been trying to set me up with, drank six bottles of something girly and was sloshed enough to suggest a trip to Badlands (somewhat trendy gay club in the Castro whose management has been accused of overtly racist hiring policies) for those who were not totally gone -- needless to say, I begged out. The party was also weird because I was one of two people not drinking; it seems so much social interaction is predicated on alcohol. It's not that that makes me uncomfortable, but it does confer "outsider" status.
Tomorrow starts my two weeks of hell: 14 days, 10 rehearsals, 1 preview night, 2 shows. I think we get Saturday the 21st off, but I'm not sure. It's possible that we get Friday off instead. Either one would be *really* nice.
Today is my last chance for cleaning and apartment-y things before the roommate gets home (late!), so it's time to break out the vacuum and attempt to do a cleaning job that will last until the show is over :-| Oh, and beta duty for
phaballa.
There are 8 comments on this entry. (reply.)