I want these chicks to be my new best friends. Also I want them to write my obituary.

PRAETER SPEM

Or How John's Summer is going thus far. Well. What to say? Hmmmm. The town is small. I mean small. It makes Abingon look like Metropolis. The theatre is small. Very small. Just to give you an idea of how small, gentle reader. The entire budget for this theatre is only slightly larger than my Stage Management budget at the Barter. I am not saying I was lied to, but the AD was very creative in avoiding certain truths while interviewing me. When he said "We only have two people in the office right now." How was I to know that by "right now" he meant this season? Really. How was a boy to know?
Also with the town is that, as my mother would say "there are poor people there". And I mean all over. Apparently in this town you are either doctor, lawyer, indian chief or you are a blue collar worker. And say what you want about the south the people are at least polite.
Another delightful thing about the theatre is that I am living with a family. The theatre housing wasn't quite ready so I am staying with them for what the AD claims will be a week. I am like a gay exchange student. You have no idea how weird it feels to wake up in the morning in a strange house and have to search through the drawers in the kitchen to find a knife. Having just written that sentence and knowing my friends an alarming percentage of you may know just exactly how that feels but this is about me not you. I feel like a squatter. The people are very nice but kind of do treat me like an exchange student. They treat me, well just a bit strange. They seem a little off put that I don't want to be adopted into their family. That I don't want to spend every moment I am not at work with them. Which truly isn't a judgment on them just the way I am. I already have a family I don't need another, dear god I barely need the one I have. Also there was a slight plumbing problem in the bathroom yesterday and I think they secretly blame me. As if my super gay toothpaste somehow ate away at the sink drain pipe making it burst through the kitchen ceiling below. I am just praying that the regular housing is ready soon.
I am not yet ready to panic about the situation this summer. The Managing Director is super cool. I realized she and I were bound to like each other when I looked over and she was reading my favorite gossip website. So there is hope. Also in the plus column is the fact that I may be coming down with a slight case of irreversible liver damage. Which could make my summer end a bit early. Of course that would mean I was dead but still.

The Closer To The Family, The Closer To The Wine

The last few days have been . . . difficult. I leave Tuesday for my summer gig and not a moment too soon. Today we reached critical mass with family time. Anymore time together and there would have been a massacre. But Tuesday I am off to the Catskills. In the plus column I have a new GP who is awesome. I have never laughed as much at an appointment. She is totally cool. Also in the plus column on Thursday I had the distinct pleasure of giving someone the finger in traffic, it was quite fun.

You may have noticed that as of yet I have not posted a link to the summer gig. The reason is that while we here at POS strive to be positive, this sumer that policy may, well, fail miserably. Our pre-season communication has set off several alarms regarding the AD. It could be bad. I am preparing myself for the worst but hoping for the best. I think the posts will flow more freely if the theatre, for the moment, remains anonymous. I promise that as soon as a suitable high-speed connection is made I will update everyone on how my summer is going. Pray for me.



No seriously, pray for me.