Friday, June 29, 2007
Men at Work
Why is it that whenever I take a day off from work I end up feeling as though I have actually worked six days? Oh, that's right, because my parents are generally involved. They arrived last night and immediately insisted on a trip to an incredibly touristy pizza restaurant where I was assaulted by a gang of five-year-olds wielding crayons. Then they took in the show I'm currently acting in, which features four separate scenes where I play a sorority girl and one in which I utter six different words for the vajayjay. Needless to say, there were some interesting conversations afterwards.
Today we went to the Cubs game, where we spent half of the game basking the the wit and wisdom of the ten drunken Brewers fans in the row in front of us, and the other half huddling together for warmth and hoping not to be caught on the Fan Cam. Afterwards we went to the Art Institute, where I convinced my sister that camera phones weren't allowed, so she would have to "create a diversion" while I captured a shot of her favorite Paul Klee. We also took a first-ever look at the "decorative arts" section, which apparently means chairs. I wouldn't have wanted to sit during the Baroque period, I'll tell you that.
We also had a forty-five minute train ride home, during which one crazy person was arrested and another crazy person spent the entire trip screaming about her parole violations into a cell phone. But enough about my parents, ha ha. It's 11:30 on a Saturday and I'm going to bed.
Why is it that whenever I take a day off from work I end up feeling as though I have actually worked six days? Oh, that's right, because my parents are generally involved. They arrived last night and immediately insisted on a trip to an incredibly touristy pizza restaurant where I was assaulted by a gang of five-year-olds wielding crayons. Then they took in the show I'm currently acting in, which features four separate scenes where I play a sorority girl and one in which I utter six different words for the vajayjay. Needless to say, there were some interesting conversations afterwards.
Today we went to the Cubs game, where we spent half of the game basking the the wit and wisdom of the ten drunken Brewers fans in the row in front of us, and the other half huddling together for warmth and hoping not to be caught on the Fan Cam. Afterwards we went to the Art Institute, where I convinced my sister that camera phones weren't allowed, so she would have to "create a diversion" while I captured a shot of her favorite Paul Klee. We also took a first-ever look at the "decorative arts" section, which apparently means chairs. I wouldn't have wanted to sit during the Baroque period, I'll tell you that.
We also had a forty-five minute train ride home, during which one crazy person was arrested and another crazy person spent the entire trip screaming about her parole violations into a cell phone. But enough about my parents, ha ha. It's 11:30 on a Saturday and I'm going to bed.
