Cross Your Fingers They Like Me..

Ok you guys.. it's time for a list instead of a real post.. even if this list isn't going to be so bullet pointy, but more paragraphs following bullets.. or.. something to that effect.. I'm sleepy, it's late, I haven't packed, and I'm trying not to be nervous, so this is what you get.

* I'm meeting Jake's parents. Tomorrow night. Hi. I haven't met 'parents' of a boyfriend in oh.. years. I haven't had a boyfriend who had parents in at least that long.. Wtf.. ? No, I'm not nervous at all. Not in the slightest. Even tho I will totally trip walking over to shake their hands or something. You wait. I'll bet you a dollar. They'll think I've been drinking. On the road no less! Awesome. Let's hope there's wine there. Then I can really embarrass myself. Wait.. we're bringing three bottles.. right. Drunken shiksa impression already insured!

* Oh.. did I mention they're Jewish? No? Yeah.. they are. I'm.. not. Apparently, they don't care and I'm currently without a religion at this time. I told him to tell them I always wanted to be Jewish.. Seriously, I have. I don't know why.. Eight presents for Hanukkah maybe? No. Bad answer.. bad (I had to spellcheck Hannukkah.. see? I've already disqualified myself. I'd make a horrible Jew. Crap.).

* I did say I haven't packed. I'm sitting here at my kitchen table, typing this post for you, my FIVE lovely readers, no packing has been done - minus a point - two loads of laundry have tho - extra points - the bed hasn't been made - minus one point - So You Think You Can Dance is on pause because I can't concentrate on packing or blogging if it's playing - moot point for that - Damn. How many points is that? -54? See.. I'm going to overpack and look like one of 'those' girls when I arrive at their cabin away from the city and amidst trees and rocks and woodland creatures and with only one pair of shorts (Dude.. Seattle's expensive ok? And summer is practically over..) and who knows what else.. my bra straps hanging out probably. But maybe as long as I bring my hiking boots and a bottle of ibuprofen (I hear the 6-7 mile trail is all uphill... oh.. yay.. *wimper*), I'll be ok.. and if I say that enough, maybe I'll start to believe it..

* He met my parents last weekend, which I know I forgot to tell you. Met them at the casino. Let me just explain: My mom and my step-dad met at a casino. Six weeks later, they were engaged. I guess it seemed fitting... I walked in and was STRUCK DOWN I tell you with the sheer power of second-hand smoke. Holy mother of all that is good and holy.. HOW do you people BREATHE in a place like that?! You'd think it would be filtered out. You'd think your NON-SMOKING ROOM would NOT smell of it.. but funny thing about cigarette smoke - yeah, it doesn't read those signs. It goes wherever it wants to. So while the parents were gambling (til 4am, thank you!), I got ready for bed and was overcome with that smell while brushing my teeth. It was like someone was sitting on the counter with a lit cigarette and blowing the smoke IN my face. Nasty.

* Jake was a peach tho and drove all the way down to Tacoma to meet us there, gawked at the people who frequented this casino (as we were leaving later that night, we saw two girls out in the parking lot getting ready to go in - and by 'getting ready' I mean one literally had curlers in her hair that the other was hairspraying and taking out. Um.. in the parking lot. Ew.) and he had the same look I did when he first walked in after the Smell Of Cancer engulfed him. But we took my parents far, far away from there and out to dinner on the water in Point Defiance and they loved it. They loved him.. The night was beautiful. They called me the next day just to tell me how great they thought he was. He even said how 'laid-back' and 'easy-going' my family is. Hm.. I guess they are. I never thought of that. Makes me wonder where I get this control-freak, slightly OCD personality.. No one would call me laid back.. ever. I think I was jipped.

* In the meantime, I've been busy trying to coordinate the next show of Balagan's season, Arabian Nights, because getting a jump on arranging my crew would be ideal. Jake is directing and I wanted to be a little more organized and ahead of schedule since Burning Man will eat up a good week of plan time. Eight's agreed to be our stage manager, our friend Elvis, who also worked the Erotic Art Festival gala with Eight and I, is going to be our sound designer and I roped in another friend of mine, James, to do original music and help design since he plays fancy and funky Indian and Persian-y type instruments, which will set the mood perfectly. I secured a costume designer and someone to coordinate audition nights too! I'm seriously getting a handle on this production manager business, I tell you.. I kind of rocked today.

* And while I'm giving out some acknowledgment for rocking right now.. I want to mention how my very sweet boyfriend casually mentioned yesterday after rolling in from his scheduled massage that he'd bought me one too. Like.. for no reason - or just because I said I was jealous when he said he was off to his appointment, which he really needed. But my POINT is that hi. It's a massage.. as in mmmmm.. and it feels SO nice.. and the place was amazing and there was soft lighting and comfy rooms and a great practitioner and I was high for like half an hour afterwards because it was AN HOUR.. I mean, the man even TIPPED her ahead of time. It was fantastic, this gift he gave me. Just because. How much does that NOT suck? Ahh.. the man Rocks. My. World.

* Ok.. he's going to kill me when he gets here, ruining all the benefits of said gifted massage, because I haven't packed a thing so I best be getting to it yo.

Hope you all have a fabulous weekend! Wish me luck!! Mwah!