just how deep do you believe?

Oh, man. This weekend:


  • Had probably the best Sister Mary Ignatius / Actor’s Nightmare show of the run on Friday. RJ, Rachel V. and Jason came to see it. We repaired to Casa de Pedro afterward, which despite unforgivably slow service cooked up a quality meal. Jason talked smack about the Dresden Dolls.

  • Chorizo quesadilla still marching down my gullet, I hit up Jake Ivory’s for Laura D’s birthday. Though Jarret & Co. apparently played none of our songs, we still danced and had a good time. I have started to realize that Boston girls can handle themselves in bars. Just because a guy with spiked tips, a popped collar and the stench of AXE keeps pitching his mediocre line at them, I don’t need to offer to punch him in the throat.

    “No, it’s cool.”

    “You sure? Because I totally will.”

  • After some logistical planning that never would have worked in the age before cell phones and dashboard GPS, a few of us ended up at Lauren K’s house afterward. George G. brought over a bottle of terrible yellow wine which I wisely declined. Then I drove home. Landing time: 4:00 AM.

  • Saturday afternoon, I met Sarah H. at the Wine Gallery in Brookline for a free beer tasting. We sampled a variety of microbrews. One local brewery made a creme brulee stout that tasted sweet but went down a little hard. I definitely could not drink a 22 oz bottle in one sitting, anymore than you could eat 22 ounces of creme brulee in one sitting. However, I would definitely serve it at a party. Bring out a tray full of creme brulee shots for people to nurse while they talked of urbane things.

  • Sarah H. gave me some guff when we ended our walking tour of Brookline with a trip to 7-11 so I could buy another niacin megadose. But that shit works! After the final Sister Mary Ignatius / Actor’s Nightmare show, I slammed a bottle of that and felt fast and loose all night. I hit up coworker Fred’s going away party at Rattlesnake first. In a rare fit of extroversion I bought a round of kamikazes for my manager’s team, which Fred had been on, and we did a shot for our client.

  • At 11:00 or so I sped to Davis Square to catch the latter half of Jason H’s going away party. I spent most of the night playing Rock Band, rotating between vocals, guitar and drums. I not only managed “The Hand That Feeds” on mic for the first time ever, but sang my way through “Gimme Shelter” on Hard, too. The secret: a lot of beer. Jason kicked us out at about 2:00, but not before loading me up with excess beer from his fridge. So: party at my place. Landing Time: 2:30 AM.

  • Sunday I had my first Gorefest rehearsal. Already I can tell this cast will be a joy to work with: everyone has energy and a great sense of humor, the script packs plenty of surprises, and Bobby’s a tremendously creative director. Once we brainstorm some of the technical hurdles (e.g., “should the diarrhea cannon hit both of them, or just Liz?”), this show will fall all the way off the hook.

  • After reading at home and napping, I hit up the Nerds On Sports Pizza Party – for which read “Will, RJ and I” – at Newtowne Grille in Porter. We waited 35 minutes for our pizza, which gave us plenty of time to talk about work. “Google owns me,” I mentioned at one point. “Between GMail, Google Calendar, Google Docs, Google as a search engine and, of course, Google as part of my job.”

    “Technically, Google’s paying for this pizza,” Will pointed out.

  • Once Marie C. arrived back in Davis from Logan Airport and got settled, I bought her a beer and caught up with her trip home. I also returned two books I’d borrowed from her and lent her Japrisot’s A Very Long Engagement in return. Without the aid of a niacin megadose, I passed out around 11:30 PM.

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