What a wonderful week or so.
That is, despite having spent my Saturday in bed unable to breathe, and not having the compugeek know-how to figure out how to RSS my SG blog to my LJ blog, so that all my cool LJ friends (No. Seriously. Cool kids. On LJ. I wouldn't make this shit up.) can keep up with what's new & hot in Quickley land.
Any advice? Compugeeks? I know you're out there. You've got my blog secretly bookmarked, and have been stalking me on the sly since November 2005. Make yourselves known. I might even show you my boobs. I'm certainly due for another boob-baring. it's been a while.
New profile pic! If you look closely, you'll see that my hot specs are leopard print on the inside. Like me.
Goodness all tumbled into place when my nearest and dearest UberGreenKat who is my general assistant in all things New Intimate Theatre Company, called and offered me a full time, 6 month contract as her assistant in her top-secret new job. Top Secret? Fancy that, there's drama involved in the theatre biz, and we can't tell anyone who might really care what we're up to 'til contracts are signed. We are now, as well as each other's assistants, each other's bosses. We work, as it were, for ourselves. Dude. This is cool.
This, followed by an impromptu trip home to cement my love for the City of Stately Elms. In the company of dear mothers, with whom we drink liberally, smoke sparingly, and fend off winter in the comfort of having each other. In the company of Old High School friends who, despite taking me with some invented level of sophistication, throw parties in my honor and remind me of the glories of having both friends who've known you forever, and friends who are not histrionic by any stretch. In the arms of WoW, who's love won't travel permanently, but remains constant, comforting, and true.
Home again. Someday. Jiggity-jig.
Due to a change in Aeoroplan points redemption policies, I was forced to spend what few points I'd amassed through years of jetting back and forth to Bermuda, on a 50$ gift-certificate from Chapters. How deeply exciting! With some thought, I realized that I hadn't purchased a single book for myself in the 2 1/2 years I've been in Montreal. And so, on the clock, with my awesome new boss, we spent the afternoon swearing to spend it on non-theatre related items.
Thursday, fought off the cold with the excellent company of Bp323, kick-ass homebrew and fantastic chili. This guy? This guy can cook. AND this guy can Brew. Seriously. If I had a million dollars, I'd buy him a brew-pub. We could call it the Llama. Or the Emu.
Friday! Oh Wow!
Friday, rehearsals started for Dice! AAAAH!
First ever rehearsal, for my first ever show of my own, in a brand new possibly self-invented style of theatre-making... and it went swimmingly. I've got not only keen kids, but talented ones. And to boot, they're doing it for the love of it. Two boot, for the love of doing it with me. 
And then there was a party! And at this party, there was a cute boy. And half way into the night spent flirting with said cute boy, a light bulb went off, reminding me that... hey. Ms. Quickley. You know this kid.
A double check into the subject's last name confirms attendance, 7 years ago, at a High-School Keener Conference, where I, having then spotted cute boy, was a Facilitator (read; camp counselor) and encouraged not to fraternize with the young'ns.
I love this shit. In addition to needing to be a bit of an asshole, possessing a deep reluctance to say no, and a preference for straight razors, the man of my dreams will come with such a crazy story.
Interesting that it was, in fact, not his hair, or shape, or eyes that I recognized, but his personality.
There were some good cuddles. A host plots setting-upage. This is new to your Hostess.
xox
