1. Pink for October!
2. How is it October? Seriously - one minute ago it was July. Holy fucking shit.
3. The only reason I know it's October and not July is that I can't go anywhere these days without getting a pumpkin scone in the face. And by "getting a pumpkin scone in the face", I mean "buying and consuming a pumpkin scone at every possible opportunity."
4. I feel very behind on reporting the minutiae of my day-to-day life. Here are a few highlights:
- I found a lump under my arm last month. Clearly it was a huge tumor and I was going to die. Histrionics aside, I borrowed some courage from the extraordinary and eloquent zoom and her recent experience with breast cancer and went to the doctor.
She felt me up. I held my breath. Diagnosis? An ingrown hair. HA ha! She drew me a very scientific ingrown hair diagram as I giggled with relief. Then she prescribed me some topical ointment that cost a million dollars. It worked like a charm! And I still have almost all of it left. So hey - if you have a bad rash and live in Vancouver, let me know and I can hook you up with this cream.
- My friend Jeba sent me a magnet with a cartoon drawing of anal beads on it. The accompanying card said "What's up your ass?" JEALOUS? Here is a photo:
- The internet is magic! Obviously I knew this already - I met Katr on the internet, for one thing, and there was also the time the Edmonton Public Library tweeted me about a book called Ultimate Porno. But last week, internet magic struck again when an old colleague of mine, MK, interviewed me for her theatre blog, One Big Umbrella.
In the interview, I cheekily told her that I had long felt that my latest full-length work should be produced at the Shaw Festival (which, if you are unfamiliar with Shaw, is a fairly lofty ambition - a little "out of my league", one might say, if one wanted to be "brutally honest" but also a little "douche-y"). I suggested Shaw should "give me a call".
The next day, I got an email from the Shaw Festival and the subject line was "Gay lady theatre". HAHAHAHAAAA!!
It turns out that I actually know the lovely literary manager at Shaw and she told me that if I thought my play was "right for Shaw" I could send it her way. So on Friday, I totally did.
Now, I'm not completely delusional. Just because there was a little internet magic doesn't mean that anything will come of this and just because *I* think my play is perfect for Shaw doesn't mean it is...except OMG, IT TOTALLY IS. Just do it, Shaw!
5. Why did I start this list in the first place? You know what, it doesn't matter. All that matters is that it's time for another pumpkin spice latte and Starbucks does not deliver. Nor will they strap your drink to your dog, even if you call ahead and tell them the dog is coming.
