Carly Simon should totally do an Amish version of "You're So Vain" and call it "You're So Plain"...
I've mentioned before about recurring dreams -- go to the 9/25 entry. I have my Doctor Who book one. I have my teeth one (though not lately -- I think I have enough real things to worry about right now).
I had one last night that I've had a few times, but this one was the most vivid of the series.
The Hasty Heart is a bad play, so bad that the 1949 movie starred Ronald Reagan. (I can't even be bothered to tell you the plot, but you can read it here) but it was my first paid gig in the theatre. I played an Australian named Digger. I was in it 8 years ago, after my freshman year of college, at a little school in the town my parent lived in. Anyway.
In this dream, I'm doing the play again. Now. And I have absolutely no idea what my lines are. (The dream prompted me to try to remember some, and I can't.) And I'm about to go on stage. But rather than being upset about it, I'm totally down with it. I'm reading the script and happy to go on and make shit up. Weird.
I feel bad about whining about my birthday. I actually had a really good time. Helen and I went to Outback Steakhouse in honor of Helen's visit. We had the World's Skeeziest Waiter (tm). When he oiled his way up to us the first time and asked "You guyz evah been to Outback b'fore?", Helen and I burst out laughing.
The rest of the night, the Skeeze worked his way closer and closer to Helen, eventually sitting on the seat next to her as he took her entree order. "Do waiters usually do that?" she asked. We lost again it again when he showed his observant side: "Do I detect an accent?"
I was just glad she was too polite to demand I pay her dry cleaning bill.
After that, we were all pretentious and went to Chapel Hill's wine bar and played video games to balance things out. I played Galaga - the world's most advanced form of fun. (Giant. Space. Bugs. What more do you need for fun?) Ms Pac-Man was also played.
Then we went to The OCSC.
On our way home, we stopped at the Harris Teeter, where Helen got me a cake. Yay! It was the first one I'd had in years. It was a chocolate/yellow marble cake with chocolate icing. So good! Then I watched an episode of Dr Who.
My Haul? I got a totally overpriced Dr Who coffee table book called Doctor Who: The Legend which I've been poring over ever since. My parents got me a third Doctor video, The Ambassadors of Death. Miss Helen got me a little spiny anteater keychain and a marvy little book called "50 Places to Eat Southern in New York". Very savvy, no? Miss Laura Llew also mailed me the lovely and below-quoted book Meat is Murder.