(no subject)
Last night, I threw myself a going-away bash at the Keg and Barrel. About ninety percent of the people that I actually cared about showed up, and most of the people I didn't stayed away, so I can't ask for much more.
I gorged myself on Guinness and smiled when the thought that hit me was "St. Patrick's Day in New York City." My friends all filmed ridiculous goodbyes on my camera, but the juice ran out, so those will have to pop up later.
I went for coffee with Katie this morning and she introduced me to Puppy Emmett, a ten-week-old Yorkie that is so tiny, I'm not totally convinced he isn't actually a gerbil. He also wears a manly plaid bow, because Puppy Emmett does not conform to gender stereotypes. He'll doubtlessly be making appearances in Murphy's Town.
It was rough, watching her drive away. But I know I'm never gonna lose her for real, just like I'm never gonna lose Dwayne or Michael or AC. She's not quite the Noel to my Julian, but she could be. We banter well. She thinks as fast as I do, and she's just as funny, if not funnier. We'll be plotting together for many years to come.
Annieboos visited as well. I gave her the CD I made her, and we cried like the sniveling ninnies we are. Then Extreme Kati visited, and we watched Lifetime and cried some more.
Heading to the Pickle for one last hoorah with the wife and Jessika and maybe Sam in about forty minutes.
It's sad, yeah, but you know what? My creative brain cells have been suffocating under the pressure of ten thousand overweight rednecks for the past four years. It'll be nice to get to a real city where there are real people who don't purchase Bumpits and don't sound like they just stepped off the set of the Deliverance remake.
The section of Atlanta that I'm moving to is full of other transplants, just like me, so at least I won't feel left out. Nooner's the TD at Actor's Express, and Sarah told me that she's actually cast in Grey Gardens, so she and Adam will be there.
I've got nothing to worry about. My life is changing for the better, and it's high time I looked past the sadness and moved onto the joy.
Vienna waits for me.
I gorged myself on Guinness and smiled when the thought that hit me was "St. Patrick's Day in New York City." My friends all filmed ridiculous goodbyes on my camera, but the juice ran out, so those will have to pop up later.
I went for coffee with Katie this morning and she introduced me to Puppy Emmett, a ten-week-old Yorkie that is so tiny, I'm not totally convinced he isn't actually a gerbil. He also wears a manly plaid bow, because Puppy Emmett does not conform to gender stereotypes. He'll doubtlessly be making appearances in Murphy's Town.
It was rough, watching her drive away. But I know I'm never gonna lose her for real, just like I'm never gonna lose Dwayne or Michael or AC. She's not quite the Noel to my Julian, but she could be. We banter well. She thinks as fast as I do, and she's just as funny, if not funnier. We'll be plotting together for many years to come.
Annieboos visited as well. I gave her the CD I made her, and we cried like the sniveling ninnies we are. Then Extreme Kati visited, and we watched Lifetime and cried some more.
Heading to the Pickle for one last hoorah with the wife and Jessika and maybe Sam in about forty minutes.
It's sad, yeah, but you know what? My creative brain cells have been suffocating under the pressure of ten thousand overweight rednecks for the past four years. It'll be nice to get to a real city where there are real people who don't purchase Bumpits and don't sound like they just stepped off the set of the Deliverance remake.
The section of Atlanta that I'm moving to is full of other transplants, just like me, so at least I won't feel left out. Nooner's the TD at Actor's Express, and Sarah told me that she's actually cast in Grey Gardens, so she and Adam will be there.
I've got nothing to worry about. My life is changing for the better, and it's high time I looked past the sadness and moved onto the joy.
Vienna waits for me.