Wednesday, October 29th, 2003
Life is hard for some, easy for others.
But we knew that already.
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The play opens in 2 days. I have the flu and I feel vulnerable. The rain in spain falls mainly in the plain. |
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“Tanagra, a village located in Greece (Beotie). Center of production of tiny clay figures, mostly in the 4th century BC”. (Larousse). By extension, the name “Tanagra” has become a synonym of female beauty and elegance.
The name was chosen by BillyBoy* and Jean Pierre lestrade, Founders of the Fondation, to evoque it’s specificity: the approach of the history of high fashion and its influence on fashion dolls. The Fondation TANAGRA has chosen the Mdvanii doll, a modern-day TANAGRA, as its official effigy.” |
Darn, if I go to sleep now, it’ll soon be morning and I’ll have to go to work again.
If I stay up, the night will seem longer and I’ll have some sort of impression that I have a life. Problem is, I’m exhausted.
Ok, I’ll revamp my site.
Now that is scary;
A Hong Kong manufacturer of crapola dolls.
They are so ugly it’s not even funny. Even the ‘upcoming products’ are dated 2001 so who knows if they are still around. You can hear the wind blowing through the broken windows of their factory.
Does anyone want a doll that looks like a 42 year old hairdresser with gonorrhea, still living at home with her parents? Let’s call her Staci or Stacee or Staysee. I want one. The male dolls are quite passable, some are even great!
these guys make it seem simple to produce a doll…
wow what a dream.
<---this is SO creepy.
i’m freezing but too lazy to shut the balcony door.
I’m homely; I look like a…
only I have brown hair.
wow i’m so sleep deprived. My eyes hurt and my tummy has that ‘i’m tired’ feeling. I can’t wait for the play to open so i can finally do my job without the fucking director breathing down my neck. Men suck. Directors suck more. This morning I went to try on the 6 inch [!!!] high heel stilleto boots that I will be wearing as Sonya in the play. That will be so much fun. La vieja mujer de cuarenta años is at it with vengence and is such a bore. I so want to slap her middleaged face. Boil her ass in fucking green tea heh fake-o-rama sensitivities.. |
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aaaahh… just had the most enjoyable poop. Always works wonders on my mood. Today at rehearsal, I dived under a bed and I got stuck there. Claustrophobia ensued and I panicked. The technicians lifted it up and saved me. Maybe I need to cut down on the pork chops. Increasingly I have less and less time for myself. |
Am I alone here thinking that Fruits, the Japanese street fashion is complete and utter bullocks??! I totally don’t geddit. Gimme Laura Ashley over this any day..
woah..
Dozed off in the afternoon only to wake up at 2am.
There goes my day off. *cries*
I want to do a staging of The Killing of Sister George.
“A flawed, credible cow..
Mrs Coot! I have no intention of playing the part of a COW in any manner, shape of form! Is that absolutely bloody crystal clear!??!”
We shot the blue screen stuff for the fake Academy Awards footage that will be part of the play. The studio was huge and very impressive. I’m in this big black gown and black wig, looking not that breathtaking. No face shots here cause I loathed the make up. Damn, I’m never trusting anyone with these things ever again.
Once again it’s October and I hate my job.
And I hate my director. Every year. Each job.
<-- clik-oh
i wish wish wish i had some time to myself.
as it is, i have to be there in 40 mins.
for 10 hours.
have lost it.
argh..
home.
fucking slobodan took notice today.
i had to bark for it.
still a long way to go.
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8:00am wake up call 9:00am get to the theater 9:15am leave for the studio 6:00pm leave studio after a hell day 7:00pm get back to the theater 7:03pm throw up the meat balls 7:10pm collapse on dressing room couch 7:12pm fast asleep 10:00pm wake up to discover they mercifully left me sleeping 11:00pm eat crepe on the way home 3:25am starving but the kitchen is bare of edible food |
slikchikgrrl has selected the “Snowflake” IMVironment.
slikchikgrrl:???
yatabazah: herro
slikchikgrrl: ah of the herro in you to me
yatabazah: heh
yatabazah: yes
yatabazah: here, have a herro
slikchikgrrl: mm, thank you *muches herro*
yatabazah: is it of the good in it?
yatabazah: i think i put too much curry in Herro
slikchikgrrl: the best
slikchikgrrl: no
yatabazah: ah
yatabazah: ok
slikchikgrrl: it has a savory burning the herro
yatabazah: you can pay by paypar now prease yes
slikchikgrrl: hahaahah
yatabazah: hehe
What if..
-A huge earthquake hits Athens?
-Burglars break in and throw me out of the window? -and kill my cats?
-A fire breaks out in the apartment while I sleep?
-I get hit by a car?
-I get stabbed by a junkie in the street?
-I get cancer?
-I lose my loved ones?
-Nobody hires me ever again?
-I choke eating an apple?
-I slip on something slippery and bust my neck?
so many things
so so many things..
yay for cigarettes and coffee.
Spent hours in the vaults of the dusty and smelly National Theater with 10 seamstresses fussing around me, trying on costumes, shoes, wigs, corsets even.
Went for lunch to my beloved crummy chinese joint
They shot a bunch of photos for a possible poster for “Delivery”. It’s the last scene where I get shot to death.
Dear God. Thank you for another hellish week at the National Theater of Taking Things Too Seriously. The magazine cover scandal did not end in my favour. I have finally put my finger on why I like Mullet, the Blonde Kenner so much; her eyelashes look like they are wet with tears. I’m drinking yellow-y tap water and it’s so comforting. I am using Selena dance moves for my role. When Kolia the slave transforms into Sonia the glam hooker and wins the Oscar. This play is silly but nice. Gawd I hate this business and the people in it. How not important it all is. I need a mdvanii ———————————> [but not like this one; she has a ridiculous wig on.] |
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What’s a guy to do on a crummy Sunday morning than to get up at 8am, make almond flavored filtered coffee, shmoke a cigar, try to learn lines and give Una and Huna hair treatments.
i have like 3 minutes till i have to go to rehearsal.
Please! Argh! Oh, the sleep deprivation!
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“Dolly keeps a Secret Safer than a Friend Dolly’s Silent Sympathy Lasts without end. Friends may betray us Could Dolly tell of us? Dolly poem — |