pamie’s mom is coming. get dressed.

I may be freaking out. I’m not completely sure, but I’m feeling like very soon, I may be freaking out. So you might want to take a step back.

My mother is coming tomorrow. She will be here sometime tomorrow afternoon to be with me after the biopsy so I can act like a baby on the couch and have her make me tea and force her to watch Johnny Depp movies and Winnie the Pooh cartoons. I will have her make my favorite dinner. I will have her rub my head.

But until that moment, it is… still… that my mother is coming tomorrow and MY PLACE IS A WRECK! So, after work, after tonight when I have a show, I will get home around midnight, and I will begin cleaning the place like a mad woman. All laundry must be washed! All sheets changed! All toilets scrubbed! And for God’s sake, throw out those stupid beans. Nothing but grief about those beans since last Saturday… the last time that they were touched. They’ve just been sitting in my refrigerator since then. Eric has started calling me the “Bean Lady.” So I made some beans! So they didn’t work out so well! So it turns out that no one wants to eat beans every day! I’m sorry. No one has a problem with Pierogies every day…

So I’ve got to clean out the beans and vacuum and wash the windows and brush the cats and lose some weight and change my wardrobe and move to a nicer place and get a successful career all by tomorrow afternoon.

Not a problem.

Eleanor is back and promises to update more. Please give her a visit and congratulate her. She’s luscious.

So tomorrow is the big day… I won’t be at work, so if you send me any e-mail, I won’t get it until Monday… but don’t let that stop you. Over the weekend I can be reached here. (Just Friday, Saturday and Sunday…. or you could sign the guestbook, I check that periodically) I’m not as nervous as I thought I’d be… and I’m not so upset or bothered or anything. I just kinda have this Zen serenity about it all. There’s nothing I can do, I won’t know the answers for a couple more weeks, and it’s probably nothing. If it is something, someone will take care of it. And it’s just not bothering me so much anymore.

What is becoming a major concern is that my mother will be here in about twenty-four hours.

Other than that, I’m peachy.

Major upheavals in the show… The Penthouse Babies sketch went over well, if any of you were concerned… and we are putting it up this weekend to test audience response. It may turn out that I am directing this show… we have three weeks. If this is the case, I’ve got to start doing a lot… lots of time putting into show… no more sleeping… much more smoking…
but, you know, when it all comes down, this is the stuff I love. Doing a show that you don’t know how it’s going to turn out… having someone say, “I don’t know what to do, do you want to have a crack at it?” Working with the troupe on another show for another audition to get us closer and closer to our goal of national recognition. Our own show. Something like that. So on one hand I’m nervous that the show may be placed in my hands, but on the other, I’m thrilled that I get to do this again.

Nutso. My cat. He’s orange, and very furry and fuzzy and puffy. My cat Nutso would wait by the door at the front window when I would come home from school. As I jumped off the school bus, you could see him meowing on the other side of the glass. When I came in the house, he’d follow me to the living room, and wait for me to lie on my back, where he’d sit on my chest and have me pet him for ten minutes. It was a ritual. Whenever I was in trouble at home and my parents were yelling at me, Nutso would stand in between me and whoever was yelling at me and meow loudly for them to stop. If they didn’t, he’d bite them on their ankle. My cat Nutso would fetch, and I taught him to knock my parents’ cigarettes down from the bookshelf and then swat them underneath so they couldn’t smoke anymore. Nutso would come into my bed at night, and if I was cold, he would sit up by my head and rub my cheek, until I stopped shivering. He only let me pet him, no one else. He played hide-and-seek with me around the house, chasing me from room to room, looking for my hiding spot, where he’d jump in the air and swat at my hands in play. My cat Nutso was my best friend from my childhood to my adulthood. Four years ago today, my cat Nutso died. I still miss him very much.

So, I’ve gotta get to work on my busy busy weekend where I’m supposed to be taking it easy… I’ve got to start rearranging a show that goes up very very soon. I’ve got to clean a damn house for my mother in order for me to let her in the door. I’ve got to go throw out those beans. I only ate them twice. What a waste of food. I’ll never cook again, I swear to God.

Oi, I’ll never get the house ready in time.

I’ll update tomorrow to let you know how the biopsy goes.. never fear, guys, you know I’ll spill it.

Spill it? Get it? Like the beans? Cause I… spill… with the… yeah… not so funny when we’re faced with the reality of our mom’s coming to town, are we?

What is that? Is that a glass on the table? Get a coaster, for Christ’s sake! Look presentable, my mom’s coming! Don’t just read this page looking like that! Are you in your underwear? Well I think she might notice that! Just comb that rat’s nest on your head just once for me, please. Christ. I can’t take you guys anywhere.