Marley is not my friend. Not this month anyway. Aside from the normal small marley burns that I get in shows, I seem to have gotten myself three really good ones this month. I've got on on my left knee. That was from a bad death drop. I've got on on my left hip. Death drop, but it was a good one; I just happened have had exposed skin in that rehearsal. Two nights ago, I got my most recent one on my right knee. Its really bad. Kind of looked like raw ground beef when it happened. In fact it was so bad that the skin that got ripped off was all stuck in my fishnets. Gross.

I'm going to make it my goal for these last 4 shows to keep my skin intact.

I haven't been here in a while. It was probably for the best. I'm not sure what has inspired me today, this minute, but here I am. I think I've had a couple random thoughts in my head in the last few minutes.

1) I may have missed my calling as a medical examiner. I know I've been watching more than my fair share of CSI: Miami and Crossing Jordan, but that's not it. I just watched a special on MSNBC called Dead Man Talking. The whole legal/biology/medical thing really spoke to me. Also, I'm rather OCD and that seems like an asset in the coroner's office. BUT, don't get me wrong. I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE what I'm doing; I just think that the ME thing would have worked out well in my alternate life that also included being a pageant queen and a hair model (those would've helped foot the bill for all the schooling required to become an ME).

2) I'd like to have Barbie legs. They really are the best. There's nothing else in this world that better defines a great pair of gams and seeing how I wasn't blessed with the Barbie bust or Barbie waist, legs is it. Call me superficial or say that I've fallen victim to what America's media has labelled as beauty, but I'd probably just ask you about the last time you didn't think a blonde was prettier than a brunette, all things being equal.

3) I am so incredibly luck to be surrounded by people right now who are so inspiring and amazing. Every night before a show, we have a prayer circle. And every time, I get to look around and see these people and am awestruck with how unique and special and inspiring every single person is. I see qualities in each person that I would love to be able to have as my own. Whether its how live your life, take care of yourself, or perform onstage, these people all show me how to do it better. I can see how to be persistent, sexier, calmer, more appreciative, more free, more sparkly, a better friend, a better partner, a better lover. It is so humbling to be in the presence of such outstanding humans.

4) Being onstage is absolutely one of my most favorite things in the world. There is nothing like it. I can't even really begin to describe what it is that I feel that makes it so great. Maybe its the audience, the lights, the other performers, the music, the theatre. Whatever it is, its magic. Pure magic. It really is. In any given show, there are thousands of things that could go horribly wrong, but somehow, they rarely materialize. Maybe that's what it is: you and me and everyone else knowing that at any given moment, my costume could rip, my shoe could fly off, my partner could drop me, a light could go out, the sound could go out. Maybe the magic is the lack of all those horrible possibilities combined with the talent, passion, and greatness of every person involved and the hopes and dreams of an amazing show.

No more.

I think I'm having a hard time adjusting to this thing called Daylight Savings Time. At my age, its bad enough that I still need a nap around 4 or 5 in the afternoon, but it makes it considerably more difficult to get up when I can see the sky darkening outside.

My tooth hurts.

You're not supposed to know this is here.

How do you explain to someone that taking a certain job, or making a big move in your life, could just be taking a step back? Its one thing to step sideways, but no one should ever, ever move backwards.

When exactly do you know its over? Is it something that you feel, but at the time, you can't precisely pinpoint what it is that you're feeling? I think its over. I'd like to think it was when I became a hopeless romantic with an endless optimism in matters of the heart. Maybe that's the moment everything started going down hill. Even that's a little blurry. In hindsight, it could've started out on the descent, but I'm too damn stubborn to just let go and tumble all the way down to the bottom.

Cocktails. I love the way this word sounds. The way it promises a few minutes of fun or celebration or bliss or relaxation. Or instant courage...

"Cocktail is a stimulating liquor composed of spirits of any kind, sugar, water, and bitters--it is vulgarly called a bittered sling and is supposed to be an excellent electioneering potion, inasmuch as it renders the heart stout and bold, at the same time that it fuddles the head. It is said, also to be of great use to a Democratic candidate: because a person, having swallowed a glass of it, is ready to swallow anything else."

Is it too much to ask for reliability or accountability from someone? I'm well aware that I haven't always been the most flexible person or even the easiest person to get along with, but some common decency and sticking to your word would be appreciated. Maybe I'm under-reacting. I know I've more than over-reacted on multiple occasions. And having this pointed out to me means that I'm well aware of the problem, and thus avoid it. But where is that line that says, "Please, feel free to over-react. Its allowed." I'm tired of letting people walk all over me. What happened to the person who used to be able to walk all over everyone else? That's not me anymore. And now I read this and think that the neurons are firing in the wrong directions in my brain and that if it weren't for my health, I'd really have nothing in this world.

And what's up with Martha? It's terrible. I loved the old Martha show, all the little Martha shows on HGTV and FoodTv. I think maybe the whole live audience is the problem. I want to see Martha making souffles and duck confit and how to fashion a better ribbon, notions, and craft suplly organizer out of an old wardrobe. I don't want to see her making baked apples in the microwave or watch her teach a Desperate Housewife how to scramble eggs. Those are things I learned to do at the age of 8, and anyone in the target demographic hopefully learned to do them before they could drive a car. There's a reason she was called a Domestic Diva: she used to show us how to do the impossible with an impossible ease in a spotless, starched shirt in an immaculately clean kitchen or some greenhouse she built herself. She didn't earn that title by doing the mundane; she earned it by doing the magnificent. And I liked it when she got snide little comments in when her celebrity guests weren't quite performing up to her standards. Plus, not pushing the culinary bar means that we can't do shots every time Martha tastes the dish to see just how delicious it is.

I'll admit that I don't stay up to date on current events. I should really consider watching CNN sometime, as opposed to Landscaper's Challenge or Semi-Homemade with Sandra Lee. In an effort to find out what's going on in our world, I decided to check out msnbc.com. Some how I find myself gravitating towards not news stories and world events, but lame articles. Did you hear about the guy in Beijing who was selling Siberian tiger meat at his restaurant? That rose some suspicion in a few people who checked it out and found out he was really selling donkey meat, marinated in tiger urine. Or, did you know that Martha likes to use her Brazilian machete to crack open coconuts? What good is this information? I suppose I find real news stories a little too depressing for my taste and the diversion of random facts appeals considerably more to me. Maybe I'll just check out the big headlines so I'm not completely in the dark about the goings-on in our world.

It's the First of September. Maybe Green Day knew better, and maybe I should've just say 'Wake me up when September ends'. That way, I can just go through the motions and avoid what I believe to be a deluge of trying times. Well, emotionally avoid them, and then deal with the aftermath. Sometimes its better that way; come in after the storm and start picking things up, as opposed to watching as its happening. But only afterward, can you discern the magnitude of damage. Previous experience in the 'Emotionally Check-out' area has taught me otherwise. Maybe I should just stay awake and roll with the punches and know why things are the way they are a month from now, what transpired to create the disarray.

At least Martha is finally free of that damn ankle bracelet...I suppose now, the domestic diva extraordinaire might have more to offer than just baking and Good Things. I'll bet she'd say 'Roll with it; it'll be over in no time'.

What if we all had to get permission to get drunk, like Martha Stewart has to until March 2007?

Alcoholism is a disease, but it's the only disease that you can get yelled at for having.
'Dammit Ben, you're an alcoholic.'
'Dammit Chris, you have Lupis.'

One of those two doesn't sound right.

Yoga is something people practice to find inner peace, better mental health, and relaxation. It's about bettering yourself, for yourself. Why, then, are there yoga instructors who yell at you, belittle you, and cause you to leave in a worse mindset than when you began?

What if you make a mistake? You screw up. You can't take it back. You hurt someone. Its not like you committed murder or some sort of sick, perverted crime. You actually were trying to help someone, but it completely backfired. But you hurt someone, nonetheless. And you want to fix it. You can't take it back though. You can't repair it. You can't repair something you can't take back. It's been done. I suppose when it comes down to it, I'd take the easy way out this time go back to make sure I didn't do the wrong thing. Unfortunately, this is not a possiblity. You can only say 'sorry' so many times. Apologies are like a played-out song on the radio: people get tired of hearing them and at some point stop listening.

And the thing is, you've been hurt before. You know what it feels like. The anger and fury that course through you. You can't decide if you want to scream and yell or fall to the floor sobbing uncontrollably or throw the most expensive thing you can find across the room. And the thought of looking at the perpetrator causes you to see nothing but red. But I also know that I'd never feel that hurt unless it was caused by someone I loved. But I still loved him, even after the fact, even if he couldn't go back and change it.

So if I can't go back in time to NOT hurt someone, neither can they. But I guess the theme here is time, right? And time is the greatest healer. So I'll give you your time. I'll wait patiently. I still love you. I still love you even after you hurt me.