02.21.04

I took myself to the theatre last evening. 'Cause damnit, if I don't, who will? I saw a commedia dell'arte version of the Moliere play - The Impostures of Scapin at the Disjecta Theatre in Northeast Portland.

The masks were lovely, the physicality and broad humour tickled my fancy and the story was the classic young-lovers-kept-apart-for-no-readily-apparent-reason-by-evil fathers. A hoot.

In other news . . .

Today, an alien presence appeared in the sky. Some great, glowing orb hung in the firmament like a ball of flame. (At least it wasn't in a fundament, that'd HURT.)Yea verily, the sky took on the aspect of a robin's egg. 'Twas most monstrous odd.

Hell Kitty couldn't make it from one patch of sunlight to another. She'd start out fine, but halfway across a bright patch her legs would fail. It was like combat basking.

Knowing that this couldn't last, I had to get out into the Big Room. Frantic search for sunglasses, gas tank filled and I was off.

Mt. Hood gleamed in the distance like a really angry ice cream cone -- all pointy bits and ice. People staggered about, blinking and rubbing their eyes. Still, they couldn't drive.

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