Mornin'
Not much g' about it.
Except for all of our framily.
My initial reaction yesterday was to end class early, and not just because a large number of my students were just getting up and leaving anyway. I let them go without question, and then stayed with a few others who clearly needed to work in order to keep their minds off the dreadful news ( and even more dreadful rumors ) that kept assaulting us via everyone's Facebook and Twitter feeds. When we finally had to leave because another class was about to start in the room, I wasn't sure what to do. I had already RSVP'd to attend a reading at the Playwright & Directors Unit at The Actors Studio, but there was a large part of me that just wanted to go home, pick up Max and snuggle with him in a dark corner. But how do I go home? The subway seemed too frightening a prospect, a cab would be impossible to get and walking, well, 74 blocks past a lot of prime targets...
Ultimately, I decided to walk, and I headed up Eighth Avenue. And of course, nothing really stops New York. I noticed a higher than usual number of police and security vans gathered, and people were walking with a more strained look on their faces, but for the most part it was business as usual. And I kept walking. Past the back end of Penn Station, across from the gorgeous Main Post Office, through the ass-end of the old garment district, past the Port Authority and across 42nd Street into the Theatre District. Occasionally I'd stop to text with my sister, or with a friend of mine in L.A. whose grandson is attending Boston University ( He happened to be in L.A. yesterday ). But as I walked, I realized that if I went home, I'd be defeated. I wouldn't be living my life. And when I got to 44th Street I turned left and headed to the studio. The reading wasn't very good, the talk-back after was fascinating, and I was extremely glad I went. Because that's
my life and I'll be damned if I let anyone else dictate, whether through fear or judgment, how I live it.
Cheyenne Jackson tickled me. AFTER ordering SoMMS a drink but NOT tickling him, and hanging out with Girly in his dressing room (where he DIDN'T tickle her) but BEFORE we got married. To others. And then he tweeted Boobs. He also tweeted he's good friends with some chick on "The Voice" who just happens to be good friends with Tink's ex. And I'm still married. Oh, and this just in: "Pettiness, spite, malice ....Such ugly emotions... So sad." - After Eight, talking about MEEEEEEEE!!! I'm so honored! :-)
Updated On: 4/16/13 at 08:39 AM
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