i have given positive press to the southern theatre before, and i generally like their space, programming and the interactions i’ve had with the people there. but i am extremely off-put by what is happening right now. after mismanaging funds, they are asking for donations in the extreme amount of $400k in a short window of 9 days? to me, the unrealistic nature of that request should be cause for alarm. i really think that we need to be a city where it is ok to not always support institutions simply for “promoting the arts.” this kind of reluctance to question or criticize creates a climate that allows institutions to squander grant money that others would salivate over.
i think the southern’s space could eventually be saved and used for another arts program, but expecting local art supporters to shell out $400k in a hurry without giving the matter deep thought and investigation is a mistake.
Look what the Internet found! A bed that is like a giant book. Start your metaphors! But really, is this not the perfect bed for us oft-hungover writer types? I’ve said I’d like to crawl into a pie baked into a cake to ease a hangover, but I really think this giant bed would do, and it would be less sticky.
This morning, I had a dream like no other. I woke up in my bed, concerned because my body was still paralyzed from REM-sleep. It was storming outside and the large windows in my room were cast open dramatically, letting the rain in. In front of my window was standing our house cat, Isa. She was looking grim, deciding whether or not to leap into the storm and kill herself. Despite my paralysis, I stumbled out of bed to convince her that life was worth living. Alas, I was too late and she leapt. I crawled out the window onto the roof ledge (which does not exist in real life), and went after her. Finally, I grabbed her paw as she hung off the ledge and dragged her inside. She was soaking and suddenly different, now realizing that I’m actually a cat sympathizer and not just someone who avoids her at all times because I’m allergic and she meows neurotically while I eat my Reeses Puffs in the morning. I don’t know if I’ve ever had such an epic dream in my life.
"Time management scheme for creatives like artists and writers: divides segments of the day into "shades." Early morning is "hot green productive time"; late morning is "light pink revision time"; all the other times of the day are "dark blue porn and furious self-recrimination time."
my job title is literally “creative.” this made me laugh so hard.
Guess what? I have a bunch of straight friends. And while most of them tend to be a little scruffy and probably wear the same t-shirt three days in a row, they’re all adorable and I adore them. I always peek in their medicine cabinets and showers when I’m over at their house just to see what…