On Friday night I ultimately decided against going to the play. Physically I wasn't up to it or rather, I could have gone but I was feeling too much fatigue and tiredness to have gotten much out of it. Instead I stayed home and did nothing, but I had a good time doing it. Sean and I traded DVDs, and I watched Resident Evil: Apocalypse and Alien vs Predator. I can't say that either one was particularly good, but I wasn't looking for something good. I was looking for something entertaining that I wouldn't have to think about, and I got it. He sat through my copies of the remake of The House on Haunted Hill, Galaxy Quest and Bubba Ho-Tep, poor guy.
Incidentally, I need to spend more time hanging out with my housemates. I came to this decision fairly recently. Just sayin'.
On Saturday that fantastic PDA I purchased arrived, which has gotta be the fastest shipping I've ever received from anybody ever. I didn't have much time to play with it though, because Ellen offered to come to the play with me. We saw rob_matsushita's Welcome to the Terrordome which we both enjoyed -- a woman wakes up bruised and beaten, and discovers that she's been taken hostage by three high school kids. Hilarity (by which I mean torture, interrogation and soul-searching) ensues. Secrets come to light. Duct tape gets purchased. Somebody gets kicked in the chest. I found myself laughing a lot and at times where I felt bad about laughing, which is a reaction Rob is very good at creating. The cast was great, especially the hostage (Molly Vanderlin) whom I've seen in three of Rob's shows now. They work well together. It was a really good show, and I'm disappointed that it got minimal coverage from the local papers.
After the show I talked to Rob and did that thing I always do where I say "gee, I really dig your work," and not much else. I hate talking to people whose creations I enjoy because I'm not good at it. I'm not good at it because I'm not good at taking compliments, and I work too hard coming up with something to say that I would be capable of receiving well. Usually it comes out as "gee, I really dig your work," except on one memorable occasion where I eloquently said "ow!" to the lead singer of You Were Spiralling.
I guess it's better than hating somebody's work and faking compliments ("Wow Paul, your poem about the dead swans is so um, interesting.").
Today I went to my parents' house for two ridiculously good meals and have probably come home a few pounds heavier. I borrowed xoshua's copy of The Incredibles so that I might be able to catch up on sleep while my parents watched it. Didn't happen. I don't think I can sleep through that movie.
Mom and Dad enjoyed it though.