Weekends make you vomit...

Yep. It's clear. A battery of scientists spent years studying this very issue and it's true! (Granted that by "scientist" I mean "people who took science classes" and by "studying" I mean "drank a lot".) Weekends make you vomit!

And I didn't, though I should have.

I spend most of Saturday cleaning my apartment after a night where sleep didn't sound like something I needed to do. Hey, I didn't want to sleep and I didn't need to go to work the next day - the two just spell "all-nighter" to me! So, I woke up early and cleaned. I cleaned because I knew Tim was coming up from San Diego... and that the place would be a sty by the time he left!

I picked him up Saturday night, brought him to my place where Keith was already waiting, and we proceeded to drink.

And drink.

And drink.

Aaaaaaand drink.

And drink.

And drink. And drink. And drink. And drink........

Keith and Tim had stopped by the second "And drink" but I'd kept going. I hadn't been really hammered in a while and I owed myself a fantastic hangover.

Well... I got it. I woke up Sunday at 11am - Tim had been up for hours - and I could barely move. A shower helped - but I'm really thinking crack cocaine would've done the trick much faster.

So, when Sunday afternoon came around, I was feeling a bit better. We went to Sean's, whose cats I was taking care of while he and Megan were in Vegas for the weekend, and began running lines.

... and I sucked. Paint and "L" on me - I'm a LOSER! Shit! Three weeks before we open, I've got nothing! I was so mad at myself! Not only that but something else was going on in the back of my mind and I didn't know what.

Thankfully, around the time I was sick of doing an awful job at remembering my lines, the Oscar pre-show began and Tim and I watched it before watching the Oscars. Damn, that show went on! We got back to my place after 10pm and, after that long, post-hangover day, I was bushed.

But it was too early to wrap up the evening! (When will the day come when I realize I'm no longer 20 years old?????)

Anyway, there was something on my mind that I needed to work out. So, we sat and talked and drank a bottle of wine... and more vodka! Maybe it helped - I don't know - because things started to come out I hadn't thought of before.

I hate acting. I'm no fan of my own meager talent and would much rather sit and write. I love writing... um, can you tell? Acting is very difficult for me and takes a great emotional toll. I tend to immerse myself into a role. Often, I immerse myself to such an extent that I lose track of Ken. As a result of this, I ended up dating Julie back in high school, my leading lady in "Skin of Our Teeth". I played her husband and couldn't leave that after the role ended. Sherryl and I ended up having our very strange and emotional relationship after we played ex-spouses (Spices?) in "40 Carats". So, I immerse. And I don't look forward to that. My character, Howard Holt, is a pretty bad man. I do bad things on stage, things, like physically fighting with a woman, that I would never do... this is not someone I wish to become. I'm doing thing to help define the line that divides us. He has a different voice. He's left handed.

As a result, once a show is over, I go through a period of depression because of this tremendous loss I feel. After "40 Carats", I cried for days. After "Three Days of Rain", I had a nervous breakdown. This is my toughest role since "Three Days" and I worry what will happen afterwards.

So, there's this immersion and this loss and I realize that this part frightens me. Then, I tell Tim that I'm not nearly as good as they need. The director's made a mistake casting me. I'll never meet her expectations.

And if I do, there will be this expectation from now on because I've realized that I have an opportunity here for some great work. It's too bad I'm not a good actor. It's too bad I'm going to let everyone down.

And so, the things kept piling up and piling up. Is it any wonder I can't remember my lines? Is it any wonder I'm fighting this?

But I have to do it. I have to do my best because something I fear even more than all of that is making an idiot of myself in front of people. That is something I cannot do!

It all made me want to vomit.