Friday, February 15, 2013


Paddy Quinn died.

I played shepherd to a priest's sheep in an orgy a church. (Hell in a handbasket.)

I blew out my left knee...bone on bone...which is not good when you live in a fifth floor walk up.

I did NOT fall in or out of love or anywhere in the vicinity of it.

I spent a lot of time with the NaNa because she missed the Pop.

I worked a LOT at Westport Playhouse...which was fun because it was near family.    

I unofficially adopted the PoPmobile and got to drive around TONS which I loved.

A colleague discovered I cruise to hard rock which delighted her endlessly.

I started writing because my agent found my dating stories both hilarious and horrifying.

I got one of the most inappropriate and hilarious emails ever from an ex.  It is immortalized in an annotated version.

I called a very young colleague "a little shithead" while on mic.  I wasn't reprimanded.  It was only rehearsal.  And he was.

I think this was the year my symphony gig career died...TRAGEDY!

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