July (belated blogger)

Oh Fart.

I forgot to blog.

I may or may not have slept through most of the month (the parts that I wasn't in Savannah A. Teaching Classes B. doing background work i.e. being treated like cattle).

Apologies.

Are you ready for the summer? No, really - are you?

Today, I


1. Finally made Mike his Monster Squad shirt

Finally, a shirt that looks cool and is totally factual.

2. Finished reading IT (bad news: Richie Tozier lives... little racist bastard)
3. Watched the final episode of King of the Hill.
4. Purposely forgot about the many years of getting every rock and pebble trapped in between that "shield" of hard plastic and my delicate footsies, and decided that what was missing in my life were Jelly sandals; and then I ebay-ed them into my life.

Here they are, ready for the summer.

5. Confirmed that my dream bike, the Huffy deluxe cruiser, while not perfect, would be okay for riding around town. Whew.

All I need is someplace to ride the bike to. Oh, and the bike.

So.... now what? I just finished up my spring work (Alice/Wonderland and Singin' In The Rain) and have work lined up for the fall into winter (Sleeping Beauty tour), but as of right now, my summer looks kind of... well... dead. For this little southern actress, June through August is a big empty stretch of thumb twiddling.

I mean, there are lots of things to look forward to in the next few months ( The Downtown Drive-In, for instance) (a possible trip up to Wisconsin, for another instance) (a crafting explosion in our little apartment for yet another instance) -
but I sure would like to know what the hell I'm gonna be doing in between vegan chili/fancy margarita parties*.


Right now the only thing I have lined up are a bunch of discount books from Little Professor Bookstore.

And my 29th birthday.

Yikes.



*A one woman gathering in my living room where I drink tequila and margarita mix and eat Amy's Black Bean chili straight out of the can.

Song of Summer (moving past your fear of short shorts and short income)

Summer is usually reserved for relaxing and over indulging, which are both wonderful things as long as you are financially secure with extra money blossoming out of the tiny crevasses in your apartment and so skinny that you look like a Dickensian reject in a romper. 

Yes, we like to fantasize about the summertime as life being uninterrupted by, well, life. Kudos to those jerks folks who are able to live out this dream, but for the rest of us who are feeling the burn of an economy that doesn't favor the norms, you might trick yourself into thinking you haven't earned the right to take a holiday.

Bull roar.

You know who loves summertime and for almost next to nothing (not counting family vacations and various arts/sports camps)? Kids. Those lazy little dweebs* who, after a year of apparently not learning any grammar that they will actually apply to the most common activities in their lives, texting and interwebbing, have suddenly earned the right to a couple months off. From what, I ask you? Who cares? It is summer and for some reason, nature insists that everyone must enjoy their lives and their surroundings for approximately 2 months, until it is so ungodly hot that you have a heat stroke if you even think about stepping outside.

The Summer will demand that you marvel at it's awesomeness.You really don't have a choice, so why honor it by:

sunbathing on the rooftop terrace of your kinda rich aunt's beach condo that faces the ocean and reading something you saw the detached but cool looking girl at the non Starbuck's coffee shop reading,

floatin' down the crik' with a cooler full of beer in the tube next to you while talking to your bff on your cell phone about the latest episode of True Blood (it starts next week, y'all!)

or opening all the windows in your apartment, fixing a pitcher of sweet tea and bourbon and inviting your 20 closest friends to come have a bad movie marathon.

And for the love of god- don't forget to indulge in all those summer treats. If you have country cousins, disguise a visit to pick all their wild strawberries and blackberries with a need to go off roading with them. Once you are smothering that fresh baked berry cobbler with french vanilla ice cream, you won't regret it.

Put on your shortest shorts, or jorts, if you must, light a shit ton of citronella candles and try not to punch your coworker at the company bbq while they talk about how they dragged their husband away from the golf course at the country club and took their skeletor-ish daughters, their skeletor-ish daughters' douchy boyfriends, their parents and all 50 of their neices and nephews on their 250th visit to Disney world (and 25th visit to Harry Potter world, even if they don't "support witchcraft").

Porch Tunes


Hold On - The Postelles from The Postelles on Vimeo.




Slow Down, Molasses - Late Night Radio

Bruce Peninsula - Light Flight

Volcano Playground - Waiting

Lake - Roger Miller


*It is important to note that I don't really think all kids are lazy little dweebs... just yours. (hey, jokes)