Also, I'm On Page 250 Of Harry Potter, And Will Spend The Rest Of The Book Worried That The Tongue-In-Cheek Spoiler I Read Was Real
I can't decide if I've been delinquent or just busy, but the truth is I've only actually been not blogging, and whether that makes me criminal, well, that's just up to you. I haven't gotten any "where's the blogging" emails or texts or phone calls, though, so maybe I shouldn't have brought this up. Maybe the catblogging tides you over better than I'd thought. Maybe the catblogging scared you all away months ago. Who knows.
365 and the move went well, though both seem to refuse to end. For the move there was the truck day, then the mom's SUV day, then the final "cab trip," which, thank god, became a "packing John's car to the brim" trip, because there's no way that shit would've fit, not that any cab would've stopped for us with all that shit. Though everything is finally in my apartment, "everything" means my stuff and Kate's and James', so it hardly feels final or settled. I also saw my first cockroach yesterday (one of the tiny fast ones), so all I want is for James to be moved into his place so he can babysit my cat for a few days while I fill my new home with poison.
For 365 there's still the First Sundays presentation at the Public this weekend. Normally these monthly things are the last four (or five) weeks of plays, each company doing their week, so you get a month of 365 at once. For the "JulyFest," where each week had four companies producing each week, each company gets to do two of their week's plays. I wish we got to show off more of our awesomeness, but the two plays we got assigned are two of my favorites, so I'm happy to get to see them one extra time. (Reservations for the weekend are gone, but the Public seems to have a solid track record of getting just about everyone in off the standby list - performances at 2pm and7pm, info here.)
For all that it was really hard and incredibly unfortunate timing (sandwiched between/overlapping with The 24 Hour Plays and moving), 365 felt really good. It was hard to put together, but the plays were weird and beautiful and I'm very sad that I only got to see them three times. Someone told me he'd never seen theatre like this before, which is pretty great. I think he was more taken aback by the weirdness than he was letting on, but honestly? That's pretty great, too.