You know how life can get away with you? My life has totally gotten away from me. I thought I was cool and keeping things together and then I realized that I haven't posted on this blog since August. AUGUST. Holy hell. August. I don't even remember August. I can barely remember August Osage County and I saw that, like, two weeks ago. What the hell happened to me?
Well, I'll tell you. I went on Birthright (that's a trip to Israel, for all my goyim in the audience). Then I came back, moved out of my parents house into my own apartment, started a new job and started directing a play. All within one week. And since then it's pretty much been "go-go-go" that gets briefly interrupted by breaks for sleeping and drinking water (i.e. booze).So the struggle, oh, it continues, does it ever continue. A highlight reel? You got it. With photos that have nothing to do with anything but are still hilarious? But of course!
Struggles have I known, Autumn Edition:
1. I almost got arrested by airport security in Ben Gurion Airport, Tel Aviv, upon departure back to the mess that is JFK because I had organic date honey in my bag and apparently there is a thin line between condiments you were bullied into buying on a kibbutz (Pushy Israelis? No! Say it ain't so!) and bombs. I politely explained to the nice (horrible) woman at airport security that if I was a terrorist, wouldn't it make more sense for me to be bringing things INTO Israel rather then sneaking them out? She was not amused.
2. I moved into my new apartment and had an incident with my smoke alarm, and by this I mean that it just went off one day and would not stop beeping. Literally WOULD NOT STOP. At 10pm. On a Sunday. So then when I tried to fix the central alarm box in the common hallway, I locked myself OUT of my still-beeping apartment, in my Pajamas. I couldn't go to my parents house to get my spare key because not only was it raining, but I wasn't wearing shoes. Or appropriate undergarments. So I had to call my father to come and help me out. That's right. I called my daddy. Struggle.
3. The day before my Fringe Show opened, my sound designer quit. And despite the vodoo dolls and fist waves at the sky, I still had to actually figure out a solution and run the damn sound myself. Just another name to add to my death-list book.
4. I went to the theater and a complete stranger told me to punch my new boss in the dick. That one was pretty funny, actually.
5. My hair still doesn't know what it wants to be when it grows up.
So, sorry for the delay, anyone who might be reading this, but I promise, I'm back, and struggling more then ever. But hey, you probably called that, right?
Denim + Fringe
2 hours ago