Sundays

So it's Sunday night at 11:30, and I'm once again doing what I always do on Sunday nights now. Namely, I'm thinking of a million ways to procrastinate so I don't have to do any thesis writing even though I desperately need to be working on it because I have pages due on Tuesday morning, as usual. This week will mark the halfway point for me, if I actually get any writing done. I'm just finding this whole process really tiring, because each week I get a little bit done and I feel that relieved, mission accomplished feeling, but then the next day it starts all over again and I'm really tired of it. This does not bode well for possibly writing a dissertation one of these days, huh? At least I'm still on track. And I've already finished my reading for class this week, so that's...something.
The play I'm stage managing is going really well. As long as the actors keep up their end of the bargain and get off book this week like they're supposed to, I think we'll be in good shape. The scene I'm acting in is going less well, although it has been getting better lately. It has just been the most frustrating experience because basically the scene is a comedic attempted rape. Yes. Comedic attempted rape. Thank you, Peter Shaffer, for writing the most impossible scene ever. There is nothing funny when a guy pushes you down onto a bed and forces you to kiss him and tries to do more when you're not interested. It's just not funny. It's hard to play things like "frustrated" and "oh ho ho, he's so goofy and nerdy and going about this the wrong way", because really, it's just kind of scary. I think in real life, even if the person is your best friend and you're almost 100% positive that nothing much will actually happen against your will, it's still scary. So I'm having a heck of a time finding motivation in this scene. Plus my scene partner has to push me backwards off of a chair onto the floor and then pick me up and toss me onto a bed and kiss really forcefully and sloppily along my neck and jaw and he's kind of scruffy so I leave rehearsals now with my entire neck and jawline bright red. And I'm bruising myself from all the crashing around. And he's trying not to hurt me but apparently I suddenly have the most sensitive skin ever. Also, I'm sure there's a safer, saner way to block this scene but we're all about the realism and frankly, I don't have time to spend hours learning believable stage combat. It's stupid, but in my mind a little pain is worth the time saved. Plus I get to say, "I do my own stunts!" as I'm crashing out of the bed for the dozenth time.
I'm taking my cat and my dog to the vet together tomorrow. Jose needs his annual check-up, and Cohen needs his bordatella vaccine so he can stay at the kennel for a few days while I'm in New York (Chels will watch him the rest of the time). I booked their appointments together so I wouldn't have to make two vet trips this month, but now I'm thinking that poor Jose is going to be stressed out by basset baying as he's getting his shots. Poor cat.
Last night I had a very bizarre exchange with a guy at a bar in Austin. I was out with a bunch of my friends (Mandi and Jason, Jason's best friend whose name I can't spell, Debbie, and Richie) and we went to this bar on west 6th at the end of the night. As Debbie and I were standing at the bar ordering our drinks, this guy standing down the bar from me caught my eye. He was really good looking so I gave him one of those "Yes, I saw you looking at me and now I'm acknowledging that I'm looking at you, too, so feel free to approach me" looks, and I saw him lean over and say something to his friend and gesture at me and Debbie, and then I lost sight of him in the crush of people at the bar. A moment later the guy was standing behind me with his hands on my shoulders, and he sort of rubbed my shoulders and said, "So, can we use your credit card?" I pulled out from under his hands and said, "What? What are you talking about?" (I was using cash to buy my drink, which was the least of the problems with his question) and his buddy said, "You're buying, right?" and I was a bit taken aback so I didn't say anything right away and Debbie goes, "Did he just ask for your credit card?" and the first guy goes, "I thought you girls liked to have the power," and then he went to put his hands on my shoulders again and I pulled away again and walked away quickly, and Debbie said under her breath (although I wish she'd said it to his face), "Yeah. That's why we're buying our own drinks." What an asshole. Has that bit ever worked on anybody? I really hope not. I guess I could give him the benefit of the doubt and assume that he was just joking and I misinterpreted him and walked away from the situation too quickly, but no. I'm pretty sure he was just an asshole. The uninvited shoulder massage was a pretty good sign of that. I don't know you. Don't touch me. Weirdo.
I would really like to meet a normal, dateable guy.
I'll leave this disjointed entry at that.