On Friday a stranger rested her head on my shoulder as we perched on the arm of a couch. She was having difficulty seeing the action of the show "and it's late." Even later, oranges were consumed and ghosts discussed as Molly slept under a blanket on the couch.
On Saturday my life was saved by pretty girls who prevented my hill-rolling descent from ending in a mash of gravel and cyclone fencing. Naked ghosts were discussed.
On Sunday twenty-three years ago, Mount St. Helens erupted. In the present, I drank a beer and hid from the scary producers in the theatre with other techies. Desert ghosts were discussed.
I'm in love with ghosts, and not in an Ann and Nancy Wilson sort of way. (Possibly in an Indigo Girls sort of way.)
Posted by Ida at May 19, 2003 11:32 AMScary Producers?
Posted by: sven at May 19, 2003 12:49 PMOnly scary because it was a bunch of people whose show I do not care for and, as we all know, I'm not very good at pretending otherwise in any situation.
ahhhh.... didn't think that you thought that 'all' producers were scary, but figured I should do due-dilligence.
Got yer radiation suit ready?
Ain't nothing better than standing at the top of a grassy hill yelling "Stop! Stop!"
Posted by: Mol at May 20, 2003 08:13 AM