I’ll be seeing The Music Man again tonight, sans Stealth Dater Boy. Woo-hoo! At least, I hope he doesn’t show up. Crap. He just might since he knows where we’ll be. Dangit! Now I’ll have to keep one eye peeled so I can avoid running into him if he does crash the party.

Anyway, I’m hoping for more flirty fun with The Music Man. I definitely deserve it. He certainly made me laugh, which, by the way, is my number one requirement for an interesting man.

Have a great weekend!

**ADDENDUM**
The Music Man came by the library today and took me out to lunch. Weeeeee! And I still get to see him tonight.

So, a few days ago I was bitching about the stalker-like tendencies of Stealth Dater Boy. Every Wednesday night, I get together with some interesting/strange/funny people from work at a local restaurant to socialize, eat, and drink beer. (Or not, depending. I’m not so much about the beer. Beer=cat pee-pee). I arrived last night, knowing my fun will always be diminished somewhat by SDB, who also attends the event and insists on either sitting next to me or talking loudly at me down the table. Ew.

Yesterday was different, though. One of our music professors brought a friend with him. I thought to myself as we were introduced that he was kinda cute. So, woo-hoo. Eye-candy. Then, I got to thinking about the sage advice of Jill Monroe when she suggested I flirt in front of SDB. Of course, I get to kill two birds with one stone here, flirt with a cute boy and thwart the efforts of SDB. Nice!

The good news, cute boy, who shall now be know as The Music Man (don’t ask) was totally up for it. I did something girlie and flirtatious (I won’t say what, because I’m mildly embarrassed by my dumb-girlie-moment) and he called me on it. I told him that calling me on my flirtation was totally not the way to get a girl to flirt with him. I think he was slightly shocked that I was that open about it. After that, the game was so on. We were so obvious and in-your-face about the flirtation, nobody could have missed it. Sigh. Except, you guessed it, SDB. Gaaah!!! (In fact, The Music Man mentioned while SDB was on a potty break that at first he thought the two of us were together. My response: “He only wishes.”)

Ah, well. Can’t say I didn’t try. At least I got a fun evening of flirtation with The Music Man out of it.

Forgive me while I begin to rant like a madwoman.

Did I mention that Stealth Dater Boy decided to work on the “Little Shop of Horrors” play with me? Isn’t that just too freaking sweet? *gag*

You know what I really can’t stand about that guy? He never shuts up. Never! And he always has to be the smartest person in the room! Always! So pseudo-intellectual horse-poo is constantly falling from the guy’s lips. We were at a cast party after a performance and I just wanted to stick a fork in his hand, or his eye, or his…nevermind.

I’m normally not a violent person, so this should tell you something. I also fought the urge to clap my hands over my ears and scream “La-la-la! Can’t hear you! Can’t hear you!” But I resisted the urge, if only to avoid the crazy-lady-on-deck looks from the rest of the cast and crew. It’s gotten to the point that just hearing his voice is like raking nails down a freaking chalk board.

I can’t escape either because, get this, we work together. (Reminder: I never agreed to date this guy, so it’s so totally not my fault.)

Then! Then! I may have developed the teensiest of crushes on one of the actors (who shall remain nameless to protect my innocence). Could I hit on him? Flirt with him? Make googly eyes at him? NO! Because everywhere I turned, there was SDB, talking–loudly–spewing his aren’t-I-smart bullcrap! No escape, I tell you. No escape!

Shit. Here he comes to chat me up at my desk. Gotta run.

I. Am. So. Tired.

I cannot think of anything witty or clever to say today because my brain is all fried and mushy from too many late nights doing grunt work at play practice. So, I think I’ll bitch about the “issues” of this play. First, the people are wonderful. Polite. Kind. Grateful for the help I provide. So, pretty much, this is a good experience overall. But, the low-budget production has created some mishaps and outrageous funkiness for this production of “Little Shop of Horrors.” And there are some horrors, believe me.

1. In helping with costumes, I’ve seen more breasts than a gang-bang porn video. If I were into girls, this might be cool. As it is, I’m like “Uh, don’t mind me while I fondle you to squish you into this too-small-horrific-1980s-prom-dress-that-the-seamstress-messed-up.”
2. The medium size plant looks like a big black vagina and it opens to reveal an old man actor inside.
3. Not enough technical support, so when I’m supposed to be helping with costumes, I’m also supposed to be doing a set change. We open today and have not worked out this problem.
4. The large plant looks like a 9 foot, hard, black cock. Also with a man inside. Someone tried to get creative and show slashes of the plant’s purple cloth interior throughout the black exterior, and then put bits of hot glue all over it so it looks sparkly under the lights. Unfortunately, this just makes it look like a huge, veined cock that came all over itself. (Freud would have a field day with the symbology we’re throwing around here)
5. The large plant is supposed to eat three people, but the plant doesn’t work the way we were promised, so they have to do a wallowing bellyflop to get in and be eaten. Then, when we retrieve them from the plant, not only can you easily and obviously see the tech people helping, but it looks like the plant is pooping out the “dead” people.

So, not only am I suffering from severe sleep deprivation, but this play is making my brain hurt. Ah, well. At least it’ll all be over with on Saturday!

This past weekend I was introduced to the new Pride and Prejudice. I meant to see it in the theater, I really did, but the guy friend I went with decided at the last minute he wasn’t in the mood for a historical chick flick (which made me want to brain said guy). Mad Madam M insisted I go rent it. I tried, but since Blockbuster has no late fees, there’s no telling when any of the 8 copies will be back in. So, I ran over to WalMart and bought it.

I LOVED IT!!!

A few things I loved:

1. Mr. Darcy wet
2. Mr. Bingley’s strange rooster-like, finger-in-light-socket hair
3. That Jane really was prettier (or at least as pretty) as Elizabeth because usually they just say she’s the prettiest sister when they’ve hired the most gorgeous actress around to play Lizzie.
4. Judy Dench’s hair. Swoosh! What was that? And she totally pulled it off. Woot!
5. Best heated exchange between hero and heroine that I’ve seen in years. Just enough passion and anger and come-fuck-me eyes to realize that when these two fight after they get married, their make-up sex is going to set Pemberley on fire.
6. BEST PROPOSAL SCENE EVER in a movie. It could so have been a horrifying mock-worthy “you complete me” moment, but Mr. Darcy pulled it off. I had to watch it like four times just to realize that yes it really was that good. Sigh.

How did I get so many works in progress? I mean, I don’t even like to multi-task this much! I have my young adult story, my spicy novella, my paranormal chick-lit romance, a new spicy time-travel novella, and the sequels to several of these refuse to wait for their turn! I have 80 billion things to write and no time to write them because I have to get ready for a presentation I’m doing at a librarian conference (I hate when my real life gets in the way of my fantasy novelist one, sheesh!)

I also have midterms to grade from the class I’m teaching this semester, which the administration likes so much it’s becoming a required GE course for incoming freshman next semester. Cue Days of Our Lives music “Like sand through the hourglass, so goes the time I had to write.”

P.S. I don’t actually watch soap operas because I think they’re both silly and addicting. Mad Madam M has heard my rant on this, so I’ll spare the general populace.

I’m baaaaaaack! I had a great vacation in Amarillo and I want to go back. Work is icky today. Gaaaah!!!

As with all road trips, I come bearing stories and lessons learned:

1. In Oklahoma at dawn, if you’re on the OK/Arkansas border, watch for strangely happy men in trucks. He pulled up next to us on the freeway going 75mph and at first I thought he just wasn’t wearing a shirt (the man had a beer-gut and a half!) until he thrust his hips up to wave his penis at us. He had the goofiest grin on his face too! Never had a man wag his wang at me from a moving vehicle (a hotel balcony, yeah, but not a truck). My cousin (who drove with me) and I looked at each other to ask “Did you just see that?” I mean, 13 hours straight on the road can mess with your mind, but we both saw it so…EEEWWW!! LOL!!

2. Oklahoma City is non-hick (which surprised me) and is a fantastic place to stop for coffee and ice-cream (the cousin and I had opposing cravings)

3. The 24-hour Wal-Mart in Little Rock, AR is on exit 156, not 157. The gas station attendant sent us to 157 and we ended up in a severely ghetto portion of town where gas station attendant #2 of the evening gave us the proper directions. On our way out of the gas station we were propositioned by a man who couldn’t speak English, but got his point across rather eloquently with crude hand gestures. If that wasn’t enough, we had a man with a gold-coated-and-diamond-studded grill (i.e. his freaking teeth) offer to sell us CDs out of the trunk of his hoopty pimp-mobile. I think we laid rubber peeling out of that place. The Wal-Mart was actually in a nice area of town, only one exit further up the freeway. Oi!

4. Nothing is more beautiful than the Memphis skyline when you’re escaping Arkansas (and it’s Wal-Marts).

Best place names:

• Mangum, OK– It just sounds like a chewable sex toy (LOL! I may have to add that to a manuscript somewhere)
• Kickapoo, OK– because apparently, Hopoverapoo and Ickypoo were already taken.
• Nathan Bedford Forrest State Park, TN– because we’re SO proud we invented the KKK, we had to name a park after the guy! Family reunions there have lots of sheet washing involved. Hope there’s a Bed, Bath, and Beyond near by. Sheesh!
  
• Toad Suck State Park, AR– BEST ONE!!! There are no words to describe how hard the cousin and I laughed when we saw the sign for this one. I mean, Toad Suck??
  

Nothing new on the writing front. Still typing in Luring Lorelei and tweaking/fixing/messing with Every Witch Way.

So, today let’s talk about the few sure things in life: death and taxes. Everyone dies (duh!) and some of us are in a hurry to get there. Not me. Which means I have years and years of taxes to look forward to–oh, joy unto me! Yes, ladies and gents, it’s tax season and I have to book a nasty appointment with the taxidermist–er, tax man at H&R Block. (Worse than the dentist by a long shot!) Now there are easy ways to do taxes, I realize. Ways that won’t charge me quite so much–TurboTax, etc. However, I have lived/worked in three different states this year alone. Last year it was two! I don’t feel up to the challenge of figuring that crap out. Each state has it’s own laws, regulations, exemptions. Dude, forget it! The Tax Man may be expensive, but today he’s my superhero. He saves me from thinking about how much cash Uncle Sam sucks from my paycheck every month. Thank you, Tax Man!