1.11.02

okay, i’m being a sourpus. opening night was fun after all, lots of people bought me opening night gifts (altho, curiously enough, all of the gifts were in the incense-candles-potpourri category of sweet-smelling stuff, which makes me wonder if the cast was trying to tell me something), and there was the usual excitement backstage and the foo-foo party afterwards. the party was kinda dull – lots of people i don’t know and the yummy food was all gone by the time i got there – but mike, the stage hand who crews the show with me bought me drinks and told me stories about his ex-wife and his psycho ex-girlfriend, and it was fun to see all the shop guys dressed up in ties instead of their usual paint-splattered jeans. the carpenters all treat hannah and i like kid sisters – they tease us and make up nicknames for us and mike beats up on me, but that’s okay b/c i hit him back, hard enough to make him say “you sure don’t hit like a girl.” i warned him i had brothers.

but when all is said and done, i come home and the house is empty but for zeke. i’m lonely out here. how does that phrase go? i made my bed, now i have to lay in it? i asked for this independence, i know. but i’m trying to learn the difference between things that actually make me happy and things that i think should make me happy. it’s a fine line. i don’t know where the answers lie. if my post-college 20’s have to be as unsatisfying as they were for wynona ryder in “Reality Bites,” at the very least i wish i could have her hair.