aww butterflies are pretty....wait wtf?

See those butterfly wings of redness on my cheeks, that sort of meet in the middle over my nose? Ah yes, gotta love that lupus malar rash. AKA the butterfly rash. So, whilst in the wild, a butterfly is beautiful, graceful, and a sign of hope, on my face it means BOOO. Of course it doesn't help that I sort of look like death. I stayed home due to a horrible migraine, and body pain equivalent to being beaten with a baseball bat. I specifically use baseball bat, because I had a dream about playing baseball. Only, it wasn't normal baseball, it was pirate baseball. And it wasn't like the baseball scene in Hook. It was on a pirate ship. It was hard to determine where the bases were on the main deck. But there was some sort of otherworldly implication to this game. Like, we had to win, otherwise all these lost pirate souls would come up from davy jones locker and overcome our beautiful gold pirate ship (now, one would suppose that a gold ship would sink, but then again, it was a magic ship, and moreover, it was a DREAM). And I was up to bat. Everyone else on the team had been taken hostage. I had to win. And the whole time I'm thinking but I can't run fast, so unless I hit a home run off the end of the ship, I won't be able to run fast enough to score. More strange was that there wasn't anyone in the outfield, because there wasn't really an outfield. So who was going to catch it for an out anyway? I have no idea. I just know that suddenly, the ball came flying to me, and I hit it hard, and whoosh off it went into the ocean, and I ran (and I was ABLE to run somehow) and we won. My scraggly pirate crew and I were SAVED from the souls threatening our ship. And after that I ate rainbow tarts. Don't ask me what the heck a rainbow tart is, I don't know. But it was delicious. Then I recall a different dream in which I was babysitting a little asian baby....and later we (I don't know who all the people in the dreams were) were sitting on a couch talking, and I took a picture of us on my phone, and noticed several ghosts in the picture with us. WEIRDED OUT. All these dreams seem to have some weird magical element. Except for the last dream. That one was just my friends in my house, and Adrian was sleeping on a pile of clothes that I had to put away, and when I pulled the clothes out from under him he got really really mad, and tried to trip me as I walked away. that was just nonsense. 

Other things going on in real life are that I've been working on the play, getting aggravated with my stupid co-cast member. He is 32 but acts much younger. Very immature. And that bugs the hell out of me. We are here to do a show, we have only 13 days till we open, and he's being an ass. Trying to throw in things that we've never done before, without ASKING first, just trying to be funny, and I hate that. Improv has its own place in the theatre world, but we are NOT doing improv. We are in a scripted, well-written play, so just stick to what we have done and rehearsed. It is like that time Dave Mellisy decided that as Albert (in Bye Bye Birdie) he would KISS me, Rosie. Now, had we rehearsed that and had the director wanted to put that in at the end, that would be fine (though I would have still been ooged out because I think Dave is icky), but the fact of the matter is, Dave just threw it in during the final number, during an actual show. He was lucky I didn't just punch him. He was lucky that I'm a good enough actress to stay in character and just laugh and be happy (though I did NOT kiss back, I just broke it off and laughed and continued the dance number). ugh. Look people, the director does things the way he wants them done. The writer writes in what he wants to. Don't add shit in. Grumble. Sometimes I don't think I should do theater since some stupid people stress me out, and I don't need that. Oh well.

An actual fun moment from the week was when some co-worker assumed that I have a boyfriend, and I just started laughing. And then he is like "why is that funny?" I just said, "no I'm sorry it isn't funny funny, it is just sort of a funny concept to me." and he said "why?" and I said "I suppose since it has been like 3 years since I have dated anyone even remotely seriously, and prior to that single incident, probably about 5 years" So, other than a 3 month stint (in which I was very much in love) a total of about 8 years of solitude. I was very glad for that 3 months of in-love-ness. Mutual in love-ness I should say. because there was another time when I was in love with someone, and thought it was mutual, but it was just me imagining it. proven by the fact that we never actually dated. which makes me sound like a nutcase stalking some guy, but really there was a sort of physical leading on aspect from his end, which make me think there was something there, but no. damnable men. When I told my dad about this moment, I said, "I guess it is sort of sad that I laughed at that", still laughing. And my father said, "actually, that IS sort of sad". At which point I stopped laughing. I felt like I was being reprimanded for thinking that it was funny. At what point I gave up, I don't really know. I know I am still a romantic at heart....I still think the idea of love is very pretty. I just don't think that I think that the idea will ever be real for me. Anymore.

Of course I dream of playing baseball on a golden pirate ship.