On return visits

Some days, I find that returning to blogging is of a great comfort to me, like visiting an old, dear friend whom I haven't seen in a goodly long time. This is often the case, in fact, as I now discover I don't tend to blog unless something is bothering me, and, as we've often noticed in the past, I will dance around the topic like a centipede with tap shoes on a hotplate. We shall also ignore all the logical inconsistencies of the metaphor I've just written, and instead applaud it as a reasonably clever use of imagery. (On a semi-tangential note, William recently mentioned to me a string of words to the effect of, "blows like a Hoover in reverse," which, I've decided, I like a great deal, despite a certain...inelegance to their arrangement.)

God, I really am a pompous ass some days.

I've lost what I was planning to say. I think it was somewhat insightful, to me, at least, and that is, of course, what ultimately matters in writing something like a blog on Myspace. Writing a Myspace blog is a little like masturbating in public, I think. It requires a certain exhibitionism to really be successful, and unless you are gratified by the process itself you just end up with a soggy sort of mess at the end.

I am here reminded that Isti and John Brooker, back in my AP Chemistry days as a high school junior, actually laughed in my face when I proclaimed, in a slightly offended tone of voice, "I'm rational!" (I'm not particularly sure why this occurs to me. I know perfectly well why they laughed in my face).

Ah. For a moment, I actually recollected what I was planning to talk about, but once again, it vanishes like smoke in a stiff breeze. Bloody hell.

Tangent. The Wild Party, which is the show I'm currently ASM'ing, is going extremely well. The cast is very skilled (note here that I prefer the term 'skilled' to 'talented' when it comes to trained actors. Talent without skill is, in my opinion, something of a tragedy.) The direction and choreography are superb, and the composition, for those of you Philistines who don't actually know anything about Andrew Lippa's The Wild Party, is quite marvelous. I will indulge a moment in hypocrisy here as well, because until I actually started working on The Wild Party, the only song I knew was "Life of the Party," and I remembered that I wasn't altogether all THAT fond of it. I do admit that I have a certain fondness now, however, for "Maybe I like it this way" and "What is it about her?" or, as they tend to appear in my notes, "Militw" and "Wiiah". Like a couple of incredibly unfortunate individuals with truly sadistic parents.

I could waffle some more, but I'm modestly tired and a bit frustrated with...life, the universe, and everything! No, not really, but...with myself, perhaps. Some days I'm quite pleased with myself in all my aspects. This is not one of those days.