Just so y'all know, this weekend is the Circlet Writers Retreat, aka #porncamp. It's about 75% insightful practical workshops about writing and publishing, and 25% eating all of Boss Lady's food and trading pictures of pets. Blog entries might be late and/or short, but since I have a working phone this year, I'll probably be tweeting at @ArabellaFlynn, and of course you can search the hashtag #porncamp to find some of the other snippets from various Circlet writers and employees.
About a week ago, I crewed a show at the studio theater for a non-profit outfit up from New York. The guys who run it are friends of our executive artistic director, and they come up two or three times a year. I like them; I dealt with them a bunch when I was at the box office, because when you're the most experienced person they have around they hand you all of the EAD's friends, and I have an unofficial standing request to work their shows even when I'm not the only crew who is both in town and not drowning in finals. One of the guys, as it turns out, is laid up with an injury right now, so the other one had to fly solo, on top of performing in the show. I ran into him coming down the stairs as I was going up, and as soon as he saw me he just lit up like, oh, it's you! How are you are you working are you going to be my box office again! I told him I'd swapped over to doing tech and he asked if I was disappointed that I didn't get to dress up anymore. I
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