Monday dump

some of the ingredients for last night’s stir fry – it was so colorful, I had to stop and take a picture – now my phone smells like garlic
  • When we go to California on vacation, one of the ways we offset being in an expensive part of the country is by preparing some of our meals instead of eating out the whole time. We always go to Trader Joe’s to get inexpensive food and–more importantly–inexpensive wine. I’m excited that TJ is opening stores in Texas. The first Houston-area store opened in the Woodlands last month, and two more (actually in Houston) will open before the end of the year. We went to the Woodlands location this weekend and weren’t disappointed. In fact, for the hour or so we spent in the store, I felt like we were on vacation. Then we walked outside, and I remembered where I was.
  • I follow a lot of tiny house blogs. You often see the same houses (literally the same photos) over and over, from blog to blog. Which is fine. What’s not fine is that one blog, Tiny House Swoon, has decided to charge 49 cents for you to view their posts. Now, if these folks were searching out the houses and taking the photos themselves, no problem. But they’re just posting things they’re finding on the internet. Needless to say, I unsubscribed.
  • While showering this morning I was thinking that if I were to open an Italian restaurant, I’d call it Manipesto. (some people sing in the shower, some people come up with stupid names for shit) Figured I wasn’t the first person to put that word together, and google confirmed it.
  • A short play I wrote a few years ago–Militia Slumber Party, or Embracing the New World Order–will be produced by Revolution Theatre Company in the Abbie Hoffman Died for Our Sins Festival next month. Revolution Theatre is an awesome repeat customer–this is the third time they’ve produced my work for this festival. If you’re in Chicago, you should check it out. The festival goes for 72 hours straight. I’ve always wondered what kind of stuff is happening in those overnight slots. Because the audience is bound to be drunk. Or over-caffeinated.
  • Got up to pee in the middle of the night. (note to self: quit drinking 20 ounces of water before going to bed) Guess I was half-asleep (and hunched over) because I ran face-first into the wall. Hoping this isn’t emblematic of the kind of week that’s ahead.

4 thoughts on “Monday dump

  1. Did I mention that I got up to pee in the middle of the night a few weeks ago and found a bat swimming in the toilet?

    Also, when I lived in LA it drove me crazy that my name wasn’t Trader Joe. We used to go there for their house brand Vodka (Vodka of the Gods) poured it over red cups filled with slushy frozen Gatorade and called it Gator Gods. Too good to be true as we wolfed down ribs straight off the grill and threw the bones to the dogs…

    Also, during a middle of the night interlude on the toilet (yeah I spend a portion of each night there it seems) a rat ran out of a hole I had been meaning to plug, looked at me, froze, then rolled over on its back as though it wanted me to scratch its belly.

    If you saw my trailer you would understand all this.

    But enough about me: good for you on your play being produced and it is cool to sorta know a real writer. And Abbie Hoffman really did die for our sins.

    the other tj

    1. I learned from your comment that: bats can swim (even if the pool is small) and rats can act like dogs (or maybe possums).

      Coincidentally, last week I was sitting on the couch with my friend Lisa (who lives in Connecticut and has had multiple unwelcome encounters with bats in her house) when we spotted a fucking rat walking along next to our house and then disappearing into the wall of our enclosed back porch. So now, every time I let the dogs out, I wait for that fucker to run up my leg. I think I heard him (or one of his brethren) in the wall of the living room a couple of days ago. Live and let live and all that unless you are a flying cockroach or a rat. Shudder.

      Thanks for the congrats. I’m sort of bad about ignoring my previous plays to focus on the most recent one (good thing I never had kids), so I’m glad this piece is getting some action.

  2. “Because the audience is bound to be drunk. Or over-caffeinated.”

    You say that as if those are mutually exclusive states of being, and after slinging hooch at Catbirds, we both know that is not the case. Even worse now in the age of the “energy drink”, the only think worse than a coked up drunk is a drunk that is out of his mind on Red Bull.

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