Pourquoi, my dear knight

Am I sleepy again? It appears sometimes it's not the hour, it is the company. Hence, randominity, in which I trust I make myself obscure:

Overprotective mothers are a pain. Not mine, thank God!

Sometimes Foxtrot is very true. And those who snoop are seldom rewarded. (Beyond which, many trust themselves to be obscure.)

Half-way through editing Christmas Carol.

Hamlet on the Common was by and large wonderful.

Shooting Hamlet promo tomorrow.

Red, Hot and Cole was pleasantly entertaining. Not so for the whole weekend, but there one is. Yay for indoor theatre.

Have done renderings of some costumes for Nutcracker. Poor Fritz.

Have gone costume shopping at Salvation Army - bwahahahhahahha.

Am most of the way through reading A Scholar of Magics which - once I finally got past the dullness of the first chapter - is really very good. Yay for Fantasy of Manners!

Did I mention grrrness at mad overprotectiveness?

Managed to bash out a scene between Clara and Sophia in Nutcracker which I like. Hoopla! Has one exchange that gets particular approval from all test audiences and includes in a later diatribe Johnny's teastrainer. Hurrah for inside jokes!

Must look into WGAEast.

Diet Coke (aka the caffine therein) is from the gods. As is Chinese food and chicken salad.

Enjoyed a particular 40 minute stretch this afternoon with no one in the casa but meine schweister und mich perhaps more than any time during the whole of summer vacation.

Now, however, am in mood to find a convenient wall and kick it. Or at least scowl unmercifully.

Pudding! We need more Thorton Wilder pudding in our lives! Doom on you to pudding naysayers! Bah and humbug! Pudding, Cornelius! Pudding! Pudding!

Pudding is a particularly silly looking word.

And there I shall end with exceptionally random randominity even for ye merrie olde typicalle randomynity. Poot to monthliness and perpetual woozlishness. (Nonproreantidisestablishmentarianismistically? Bwahahhaha.) Aaaaand...good night.

Mood: Nonproreantidisestablishmentarianismistically about sums it up, actually.
Music: None at the moment, the more my loss.
Thought: High strung folk ought not to be.