March, March, March

I have been without a temp job since Monday of this week, which is good for my social life but bad for my bank account. I am trying to treat this fact with just the right amount of anxiety, and not a dollop more. Though this morning it's getting a heaping spoon full.

Shit.

I'm going to go sit and read in the cute coffee shop around the corner from my second DC apartment. The area was much more of a wasteland back then, just the 7-11 and Kenny's Smokehouse. During the significant snow fall we had in 2003 (and I say significant as a former rochestarian) we existed for nearly a week on oddly constructed 7-11 meals... macaroni and cheese, canned soup with added frozen vegetables, cereal and milk until all of the milk was gone... But Jacob's is charming, and they make a mean smoked salmon panini.

Mmmm.

Quick updates before I am off.

Due to my un-employed-ness I was able to go up to NY for the night on Tuesday and see my brother go on in the show he has been understudying since December, AUGUST: OSAGE COUNTY. It is THE play this season, the play to end all plays, the new american masterpiece, buzz-garnering and noteworthy, and yes--it was very, very good. Amy Morton rocked my world. And my brother? A superstar. So good. Of course.

I also got to meet briefly with the playwright of CRUMBLE. Lovely, glowing, fascinating Sheila. It was helpful and fun to be eating tiny tasty crostini in Carroll Gardens in the middle of a tuesday. This should happen every week!

And lest I neglect to do so, I've been meaning to post a brag about Benjamin's cabaret break-out. He has now done his show three times, to great acclaim. If he does it again--I'm telling you, see it.

And we saw the Pogues last night. It was a fun venture out to Baltimore and Shane McGowan seemed not so much of a mess as just a bit done with it all. Kind of a mess, but not even enough of a mess to be a spectacle. He just seemed kind of... tired. And ready to be... finished. Interpret that as you will.

Okay. Life beckons.