Join Me at Dog Story Theater on August 8 at 8PM
Well, I'm not giving a reading...but that's okay. This is actually more fun. (And less stressful for me.) Dog Story Theater invited me to participate in their VIP Comedy Show. Don't worry. I'm not doing the improv part. Basically, they let me sit in a comfy chair and ask me about my life and then they do an improv show about it. For $5, you too can be there to witness embarrassing truths about my past...and see just how they're going to work in the title to my books. I imagine they'll ask me what's so good about sausage.
So. Dog Story Theater. Monday, August from 8-8:50. I'll be there. I'll have extra books. Come to laugh and hang out.
I used to do radio shows and plays at Dog Story when I had a little more free time. Their location has changed since then (for the better). They're now by St. Cecilia Music Center and around the corner from that Chinese Buffet place on the corner of Fulton and Jefferson.
Night O' Crazy Dreams
Last night, my house was freezing, so instead of turning the heat up (as a new heat-bill-payer I’m terrified of the new expense) I tossed on a super-thick super-fuzzy blanket. The only trouble with this was that I became so overheated I was having dreams that were more like hallucinations.
I’m sitting in my office currently trying desperately to ward off sleep. Oh, but she’s seductress that one. Sleep. Calling to me. I mean, yes, I did a great work out and then promptly filled my tummy with warm soup; and, yes, I’m sitting in a cozy office trying to write and read; and, yes, It’s 2PM—the Nap Witching Hour. On top of all that though, my daughter was up a good portion of the night last night so I’m feeling pretty much exhausted.
Now that I think of it, I can blame my sleepiness on something else entirely. Last night, my house was freezing, so instead of turning the heat up (as a new heat-bill-payer I’m terrified of the new expense) I tossed on a super-thick super-fuzzy blanket. The only trouble with this was that I became so overheated I was having dreams that were more like hallucinations.
Last night I was supposed to go to Dog Story Theater and watch some comedy shows and then try improv and then go out to drinks. Because my little girl was sick, I ended up staying home, taking care of her and being a good mom. But in my DREAMLAND, I did go to Dog Story. It was super weird. There were tons of people there and everyone was laughing, only I couldn’t understand what any of the performers were saying.
Then I woke up in bed and one of the performers was sleeping next to me, with his arm draped around my waist. WTF? How did this happen? And why was it this particular performer? (He is cute and all…but…REALLY?)
And then I was trying on a wedding dress because I was going to force this guy to propose to me. (Why in my dreams am I always forcing someone to propose to me? Does it really take coercion?)
Thankfully, I woke up. Discovered that the gentleman sleeping next to me was not said performer but my 5 yr old son, who was snuggled so close to me I had to de-Velcro him from my side. And I wasn’t wearing a wedding dress or forcing anyone to marry me. I was still in my enormous comfy pant pajamas and tank top.
I’ve since taken that blanket off my bed. I’ll try kicking up the heat tonight. As fun as those hallucinations were, I’m exhausted. I need a good sleep. And, sheesh, if I’m going to dream that someone is in bed with me, you’d think we’d be doing more than sleeping. Like maybe he’d be playing with my hair.
That’s not a euphemism, people. Really it’s not.
Santa: Reinvented
I say he needs an image makeover. First, a serious diet. And someone should check him for diabetes. That much weight around the middle is a sign that something’s not right. Let’s put him on a treadmill, get him on a healthy diet with plenty of fiber, and then, I’m sorry, but that beard has got to go.
I was at Dog Story Theater last night watching a fabulous night of improv with very talented people. I’ll link it so you can see who I’m talking about. Then they did their Open Improv Jam. Basically they let anyone try their hand at improvising. I was grumpy and wearing black and generally feeling very moody, so, of course, decided to jump on in. It made me feel better. First off, everyone was funny, and secondly, I sort of like the challenge. Also, secretly, I like being on stage. In a spotlight. It’s warm up there. Anyway….Our prompt: holidays. My epiphany: Santa desperately needs to be updated.
It occurred to me the current image of Santa Claus was invented by Coca Cola. At the time, a jolly old man with a long beard was warm and appealing. Now, he’s a little bit creepy. He’s vastly overweight, with a long, unkempt beard, and he wants kids to sit on his lap. It makes me uncomfortable.
I say he needs an image makeover. First, a serious diet. And someone should check him for diabetes. That much weight around the middle is a sign that something’s not right. Let’s put him on a treadmill, get him on a healthy diet with plenty of fiber, and then, I’m sorry, but that beard has got to go.
I want a lean Santa. A clean-shaven Santa. A Santa that says “I’m approachable and healthy. I’m well-adjusted. I take pride in my appearance”. In fact, I want Santa all to myself, in a dark room, lights twinkling, some mood music in the background. In fact, as long as I’m reinventing Santa, I want my Santa in his late thirties, open to commitment, with a good stable job. And I want him in a thong*.
