Friday, April 10, 2009


My living room is a disaster of epic proportions. After my pal Caesar and Joshua dragged out the horrible couch and the equally horrible bookshelf, they left the rugs all scrabbled up, at which point Joshua decided to pack boxes on top of the scrumbled up rugs. This will probably result in me never being able to get them to lie flat again, but you know what? I DON'T CARE. I don't care first of all because I hate those rugs. Joshua, who was once a decorator, has a bizarre failing for that particular profession since he's color-blind. I don't mean that in the usual sense of red/green confusion and whatever the other one is - I mean he's incapable of understanding what colors go together and what colors absolutely don't. I believe I mentioned here once that he went out and bought a burgundy tablecloth for my red and yellow kitchen. The rugs are worse - my living room is basically red, black and white, and something in his twisted little brain told him that rugs in olive, gold and and a sort of dull orange would look just fine with that.

Boy, watching someone with the attention span of a two year old is really fun. Every time he finds something that he deems too much trouble to pack, or to think about, or whatever, he just gaily throws it out. After telling me yesterday that his collection of paperback spy novels is very valuable because they're all out of print (or something like that - I've basically stopped listening), he told me today that they should all be thrown out. Fine by me.

The only problem is, of course, his complete inability to cope with anything. The result is more and more of these odd noises ("Eep! Ork! Grrr!" and so on) that echo through the house, and more and more explosions of rage for whatever reason - it doesn't take much. Some days we get fits because he dropped something. The other result is that I do a great deal of the work. As I have said, anything to get him out of here is fine with me, but really, I get a little tired of being told to tape up boxes and sew on buttons - Joshua's form of telling stops just short of ordering, which tends (for some reason or another) to put my back up.


Meanwhile, I have been busy on my own behalf. It occurred to me that I'm really being a lazy bitch and not doing a damn thing about my career, so yesterday, in a fine burst of activity, I went uptown and ordered my new business cards, mailed off 20 bucks to the SAG Conservatory (for 20 bucks a year you get all sorts of meetings with casting directors, and voiceover classes, and all sorts of goodies), and signed up for volunteer work with the Actors Fund for the Revlon Run/Walk for Women's Health on May 2. This last may not sound like anything at all to do with my career, but think networking. I'm also going to a networking event at the Actors Fund on some date or another, but I have to look up the date to find out when. And back to yoga class when Joshua finally gets out of here...frankly, with him in full packing mode and throwing things about and grunting, I don't even think yoga class would help my serenity levels at the moment.

And I went out today to get all the Easter dinner fixings - I wasn't planning to cook Easter dinner, but Sarah called and announced that she and Seth were hungry for ham. This means I have to spend a good chunk of tomorrow cleaning the kitchen and a bit of time Sunday making dinner, but why not. The menu is idiotically much beloved baked ham with the honey mustard glaze, a recipe for a potato gratin that I found on, and asparagus with butter and lemon. The potato gratin looks good, and it has exactly four ingredients, which I can definitely live with. Potatoes (um, gee, ya think?), creme fraiche, Gruyere cheese and flat leafed parsley. Now I just have to dig up my Benriner slicer from wherever it's gone to rest and hope to hell I don't end up with a nice gratin with sliced Wendy.

It just occurred to me that I ran through this whole menu thing on the blog a couple of days ago...sorry about that. But frankly, what with all the noise and mess, I can't think straight. Not that I was ever noticeably good at that to begin with...

Love, Wendy

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