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I'm joyously thrilled. One more free day to lay around on my stretch-marked ass to ponder the motivations of my character in a kid's play. I was suppose to go to a read-through today. At least that's what the director said when he phoned me today, telling me it was cancelled. I remembered my dad telling me 'some guy' phoned me about 'some rehearsal'. It pisses me off that he never write messages down, then blames the caller for not phoning when I should be home! I felt like I was trying to piss my dad off by getting him all riled up just because he consistently pisses me off with this. He always ends an argument by screaming his head off, so I left without saying good-bye. I was going out to a rehearsal for the kid's play anyway, so this happened as I was on my way out the door that my dad grabs my attention with his inept message-taking. Of course, I was stewing on the bus. Actually, I was stewing at the bus stop waiting for the next one, since I was a minute too late and I didn't feel like going back into the house to face more of my dad's anger. I thought about how we fight over petty little things and that by the time I get home, all would be washed away. After frolicking in the reheasal room, freezing outside to catch my bus and arriving home [my younger brother had shovelled a part of the walkway leading from the street to the sidewalk that was a huge snowbank: thanks, bro!] I was about to wrestle the keys into the lock when my dad swung to door open. Just a silent apology between us and supper was almost ready. When my bro visits, he watches wrestling. I can't stand wrestling and boxing, especially wrestling! I've hated those two sports since my feet were a size 6, and that's a very long time ago. Although mom wanted me to sit in the livingroom with the rest of the family, I tolerated the bulging testoseroned hulks tossing each other around the ring then headed off to my room, only to be reminded that The Golden Globe Awards was coming on! I'm miffed that I missed The Critic's Choice Awards, but this makes up for it. I can't wait for the Oscars! I was reading the African play, but there were so many characters to keep track of that I decided to restart and take notes. I read only 15 pages of it when I started to doze off. There was something laborious about it, but I will tackle it again. Did I mention I had a coffee date last monday? Yes, it was through GayCanada.com that this woman wanted to meet me. I felt guilty when she mentioned how I thought I wanted to meet her then seemingly changed the meetup dates, so I replied back by leaving my cellphone number to meet the next day, last week monday. It was after work. She also worked near the same area I did, so the meeting wasn't too out-of-the-way for either of us. I was the first to arrive because I'd gotten off work so soon but had to go to a rehearsal afterwards and squeezed her in-between [My paranoid brain is thinking that maybe she located me through this thing and that she purposely found me through the other website to see what I looked like, checking to see if I'd write about her. Having an online diary is nerve-wrecking sometimes, eh?]. I thought she'd never arrive. I realized that she knew what I looked like, but I didn't know what she looked like, but I'd watch the faces and eyes to detect recognition. As soon as I saw the woman with the steady gaze, I knew it was her. We chatted for a bit as I darted my glance at the clock behind her. She seemed very homey, very earthy too. I felt like such a goof-ball, moving all over my seat while she sat concentrated on my eyes. As soon as it was time for me to leave, she didn't hesitate and bolted practically. She was out of her chair and out of sight. I guess I won't be seeing her anytime soon. There was no click. At all. She seemed nice, but we were very incompatible. That was a bit frustrating. Not finding anyone to click with gets depressing, plus on her profile, she'd already seeing someone, looking for friendship, so I'm no huge loss to her. I can only socialize with my parents so much without being babied. My mom, dad and I went and finally saw, "Shall We Dance?", the movie that was shot here, that everyone freaked out about because of it. I was looking for the scene I played in the background, and I was cut out! Bastards! Anyway, I saw the only other black actress, who I always bump into at auditions, do a scene and was twirled by Stanley Tucci as he goes away and says, "Fuck You!" to the group of employees that were gossiping about him [Supposedly, she'd simply asked to have a part in the film and it was easily given to her. I hope it's just a rumour, otherwise I'll be so bummed!]. There was another scene I auditioned for that I obviously didn't get. I was too distracted in finding the scenes that were shot here versus the ones shot in Chicago: seamless but for some familiar faces. Of course, dad fell asleep as was predictable. I'm getting tired. I'm off to watch some CSI then Six Feet Under. I need a life! [There's so much more I want to write about, but my bed calls me. Unfortunately it's only for sleep and watching tv and no recreational activities. Sigh!] While Soaking in Lavendar... - Saturday, Apr. 06, 2019 He Reminded Me of An Incident Years Ago - Monday, Feb. 04, 2019 My Rose-Coloured Glasses are Smashed & I Don’t Want Them Anymore - Sunday, Feb. 03, 2019 It’s Been Awhile - Saturday, Feb. 02, 2019 I Never Needed You. - Thursday, Nov. 27, 2014
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