Things I love

The geese honk to each other in the dark.  Then they drop from the sky, flap, still honking, and land.  The bus must've been fast, I looked up and we were crossing the bridge. I read 26 pages of a play, but don't think I fell asleep this time.

I left work early to meet friends.  I had another committment, but stayed there a little later than I had planned.  I didn't want to leave.  I got to my other thing, meeting with former classmates to keep doing work.  At 7 pm, I was talking about the Meisner class and saying that I didn't think I wanted to do anything outside of that, by 8:30, I was campaigning for submitting an application to a showcase.  Even if we don't get in, it would give us something specific to work torward, and we could split the time with monologues.  I didn't do one tonight (which was why I was reading the play on the bus, trying to find something), but realized that I wanted to, and that's a change.  It's good, I should get to the point where I want to perform for people. We did some cold readings as well; I certainly need to do that more.  Anyway, from that time I walked in until the time I left, I was completely there. Only there.  So, I'm glad I went.

While talking with one of the friends earlier, someone I spent a lot of time with when I was younger, I found out we were born in the same town (in California).  It's not super unusual, we were both born into military families, but I never knew that.  I guess I never had a reason to ask when we were kids.

There's a great sense of liberation in saying your "short comings" out loud and having the listener get them, relate.  It makes me feel less alone in the world, to tell the truth about something, and not be dismissed.

I still haven't come up with anything, though we have a relationship and circumstances surrounding that now. 

There are traces of you everywhere.

I don't feel well.  I can't be sick, we have to do chair work tomorrow.