Here is my skit from Playwriting:

written by me and my partner in crime, Jana.

(Grocery Store. Lorraine is in the produce section picking out melons. Squeezing them.)
IGOR: Hey, man. Nice melons.
LORRAINE: (shocked) Excuse me?
IGOR: (starring at Lorraine's breasts) I said nice melons. (laughs like a 14 year old boy)
LORRAINE: Oh, well...I...well...(Nervously shifts melons. Melons begin to roll off display) Oh, lord!
IGOR: Let me help you with those. (They begin to pick up melons. Both reaching for the same melon, their hands touch. Eyes meet.) You have beautiful eyes.
LORRAINE: Well aren't you just the cutest little thing.
IGOR: And exquisite breasts...I mean, you're fucking hot, man.
LORRAINE: Is that any way to speak to a lady? (Fluffs hair, sticks out chest.)
IGOR: (Noticing ring on her finger.) If you were my wife I'd never leave you alone.
LORRAINE: If I were your wife we wouldn't live in this town. They don't take too kindly to the Mexicans here.
IGOR: I'm not Mexican, man I'm Serbian.
LORRAINE: Serbian? Well I never heard of Serbia. Is that in Africa?
IGOR: No, I'm from Bosnia.
LORRAINE: Oh, Bosnia, of course. (She has no clue what he's talking about.) That's a nice shirt you got there. I think I have one just like it. That's my Saturday night shirt.
IGOR: You have a fishnet shirt too? You should wear it all the time. I bet you look fucking hot in it. (Changes mind) Actually...you should never wear clothes, you should be shot in the fucking face for wearing clothes.
LORRAINE: (Stares at him in disbelief. Starts laughing) Well...I...
IGOR: No, I mean, you're just so beautiful. (pause) I'm in a band.
LORRAINE: What kind of music do you play dear? (Flustered, begins putting produce in cart.)
IGOR: (Not taking hint, follws) Yeah, man we have a show tonight. It's industrial rock like Nine Inch Nails but way fucking cooler. You should come.
LORRAINE: What? You play with nails? Like tools? What kind of crazy band plays with tools?
IGOR: No, we are not Nine Inch Nails. That's a different band. We are Superstars of Mass Destruction. I'm about to go to sound check. Want to come with me? We can have a few beers and you can hear me play.
LORRAINE: I guess that sounds alright. My husband has poker night at the house and he don't like me around when the boys are playing poker.
IGOR: Awesome. Do you want to come with me now?
LORRAINE: Yes, honey just let me pay for my melons and we can get better aquainted. (winks)
IGOR: I'd be happy to help you with your melons anytime.

YAY! My Show Closed This Weekend...

And it fucking rocked. My dad came to see it. It was pretty funny because there is some semi-heavy seduction going on in my scene and the only thing my dad said after the play was, "I saw you smoking onstage. You're not a smoker are you?" He was all worried about it. OK, first of all...IT WAS A PLAY! Second, "Am I a smoker?" what is that all about? It's like, go be a huge slut all you want sweetheart, if you start smoking I will disown you. Parents are weird.

Sunday, Andy and I went to go see "Date Movie". DO NOT EVER GO SEE THIS MOVIE!!! I think it was probably the most painful hour and a half of my life...and I'm a masochist. I can't tell what upset me more: Losing $8.00 or losing that hour and a half....or losing 30 IQ points due to subjecting myself to such mind vomit. Seriously, I think an 8 year old could write a better movie and be more witty and hilarious. The jokes weren't even clever and the farce was unclear. BLAH! Damn you Allison Hannigan!!! You were so cute on Buffy. Why would you ever agree to making such complete and utterly tastless crap? Why? WHY?

So My VD Rocked...

Yes, I realize VD stands for something else, however in this case it is meant to stand for Valentine's Day which is usually the dumbest holiday ever. Gay boyfriend and I went to Wal-Mart at 2:30 and bought the little cheapo paper Valentines to put in people's boxes at school. Then he made fun of me for taking forever to write them all out because I was matching the right Valentines to the right people (personality-wise). Then Andy surprised me by coming to visit me after rehearsal. He made me a potato stamp Valentine and gave me an awesome art book and a bunch of pictures of hot, half-nude celebrities. I gave him a scrabble board with a Valentine message glued to it. Then we hung out and didn't get drunk....Huum...that's odd.

Oh yeah, tomorrow I will post my play writing skit. It is hilarious. I will give you a hint: It involves melons...nice ones.

Today I Had the Worst Dream...

Only it wasn't bad in a conventional bad dream way, it was worse. Because I was at rehearsal and making noises in my sleep. I won't get graphic about what the fuck I was dreaming about, but there was blood...a whole fucking lot of blood. But, I did wake up and run my hands all over my body as a sort of once over to make sure everything was still intact. Then I called a friend and got laughed at. Supportive.

At Play Rehearsal Today...

I had to seduce the leading man in a scene and the director wanted us to try something different. I am standing in front of leading man, say a line, and push him onto the bed. Then I crawl on the bed beside him. Then...I was supposed to stand over him straddling his legs and pull him back up. Only when I went to stand up I got a sudden intense pain in my leg and I immeaditely fell down and began screaming and laughing at the same time...because my leg hurt like a bitch, but at the same time I think that was maybe the most unsexy thing that's ever happened to me. Painfully unsexy.