The nature of life in reality . . .
if wishes were horses . . .
I really wish that I had more time to write. Actually, I could make time. What I need is the motivation (and the muse). I think about things to say all the time but I don't capture the thoughts soon enough and they escape me.
My friend Harold has a fabulous journal and he updates all the time. In his latest entry, he said he's contemplating the idea of going daily. I feel inferior to him in many ways. But, he is a writer and web-guy by trade. I am not. (Here I go excusing again).
It's been a busy time for us (anyone care to count how many times I've said that?). We close on the condo in a little over two weeks and the freak woman at the Mortgage Company has been making my life hell. I'm sure that everybody that has ever bought a house has dealt with this kind of crap, but let me spell it out for those who haven't had the pleasure yet. The Mortgage Company will assure you that everything is "fine" and "beautiful" and that you're "pre-approved." That's a load of shit. There isn't really any such thing as "pre-approval" at all. That just means that you "should" be approved for the loan. The Mortgage Company has nothing to do with it. They go by the underwriters - and they always want more information than the mortgage company has given them! So, that means that you have to scamper and scurry like Bambi in the forest fire to get everything into them in time to close. The mortgage company could have done all this ahead of time - I mean you're paying them an exorbitant amount of money in interest and needless "fees" right. They won't. I'm sure that everything is fine. I just wanted to bitch. I'm allowed.
life is funny that way, sometimes
I just got a call from the Mortgage Company. The underwriter has approved everything. We're set to close now. Tonight I can sleep the peaceful sleep of one who has faced his enemy, and beat the living shit out of him.
. . . and all the men and women merely players
I got a good review for The Old Neighborhood. I was really surprised. The local theatre critic has a reputation for smashing people for no particular reason (sometimes he has one, but even when he does he can be exceptionally cruel). I know that I'm not supposed to revel in such things, but I do. This show has been, for the most part, a trying and unpleasant experience for me. I needed recognition for my work and I'm not ashamed to say that I'm glad that I was vindicated. We close this weekend and I can say, with some assurance, that I won't miss it. I am planning to audition for more shows this upcoming season. I just hope I'm able to make the time.
the perils of education
I've been wanting to go back to school for a while now. I really want to get an MFA in directing, but that's not entirely practical. I was planning to go back and get a second BS in Marketing. The company will pay for it, and I thought it would be a good entryway into another field (PR and Advertising). But a little monkey came to visit and as usual, he reached around and flung his shit at me.
Two weeks ago, I was asked to go back to my old grade school as a guest artist. I really, really enjoyed it. I'm planning to go back and do that again and again, with the hopes that it might work into something permanent. I talked with my old headmaster and he was really enthused about my coming back. This got me to thinking - - if I get a Masters in Education, I might be able to get a full time job there. They are building a high school and they will need a drama teacher. I'm sending out feelers, and I think I might just go that route. Or I might get both. Who can tell?
and so, in conclusion
There are a lot more mundane things in my life, but I don't really want to talk about them. Maybe on another day, just not now.
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