the full moon was waning

Last night at work a man yelled at me because he was disgusted by the ladies next to him, with open toed shoes, who had put their feet up on the wall in front of their seats in the Lords Chair section. He refused to say anything to the ladies, he didn't want US to say anything to them, he just wanted to yell at me. I was more stunned than anything. It was like I was a cat and he picked me up by the nape of my neck---I just hung there and stared at him. This is, of course, without the soothing chemicals that get released in cats when they get picked up by the nape of the neck. In fact, since I obsess over everything, as Chris and I were at the grocery store later my shoulders started to hurt so bad that I wanted to cry. I'm getting a massage on Monday (I had a coupon!) and there couldn't have been better timing. Well, maybe, but this is really good timing.

The most redeeming part of last night was that my friend Chris Johnston had his first day in the box office and it was so good to see him. He told me all about the modernized production of Twelfth Night he just did in Utah... where the soliloquies were done with CELL PHONES. This is apparently the "new" thing for Shakespeare--- soliloquies said to an imaginary person on a cell phone. Someone called us once telling us about this Othello she saw in Norfolk or something where it was set in South Africa and they used cell phones for the soliloquies. She said she LOVED it. That poor woman. These poor PEOPLE. I mean, what are they THINKING??? Ugh. It's so easy... and yet, so easy to completely screw up.

Oh.... anyway... oh. So this massage. I'm really excited. I'm also getting my hair cut which is also exciting. I don't know what I want to do with it... I just want it to be cool. I haven't had COOL hair in a while. I think a lot is going to have to come off since dyeing your hair every month is not the best thing to do to hair. I'm going to research hair when I get done blogging.

So. Michael Phelps, eh? It was just meant to be for him. Everything fell into place for him exactly as he needed it to. Sometimes things are meant to be and sometimes things are not; this was meant to be. No silver medalists should feel bad that they lost to him; IT WAS MEANT TO BE FOR MICHAEL PHELPS. It's not their fault. I'm sad the swimming is over. It was exciting. It was also exciting watching the women's individual gymnastics. I cried a lot. I was watching those two American girls doing their floor routines, heat swelling inside my chest as if I could send them positive thoughts over the TV and half the length of the earth.

I have to do dishes and I do not want to.