Friday I left work, went home, ate some dinner and killed some time before a fellow improv person’s birthday party, which was starting late as she was getting off work late. The party was good times, just a few people together, drinking and playing charades. Your faithful Loopy dominated. I got home at 6am.
After waking up at 1 or so, I got ready for rehearsal for Hedwig, and went out to Long Beach. Had a good time, got the songs down pretty tight. After we were done, Patrick asked if I wanted a ride to Pasadena. I had no plans, and I was fairly certain that if we were to hang out, it wouldn’t be long, as this was woman time. Woman time isn’t to be trifled with, but I threw caution to the wind and went out to the City of Roses. En route, I got a hold of my brother, who picked me up and brought me back to the family’s pad.
Hung out there for a while, then got a call from Curtis, who was going to a show in Hollywood. My brother and I went out there, and heard some awesome mashups by some great DJ’s, then a live mashup band played, and rocked my socks off. 1979 and Don’t Stop Believin’, I tell you!
After the show, I went back to Pasadena and crashed. The next morning I went out to Sherman Oaks to make funny, and as it turns out some friends came, lastminute, and I went back to their place in Monrovia after the show. This meant a ride on the Gold and Red lines. I fell asleep on the Gold line, as I only had 2 hours of sleep. I made it to work anyhow, and was hating life for most of it. Luckily the calls weren’t bad, and I was able to get a cobb salad for lunch. That’s how I treat myself. It’s just so evil.
Finally home, I’m pooped. Thank god for self-medicating.
Bewbz.