Sunday Girl – She & Him

Sunday Girl - She & Him

The day was sunny and warm at my Nonna’s house and I was wearing a pretty bow in my hair.


This Weather Drives Me Insane

This morning, at 6:45, I dropped my sister off at the GO Station so she could get to work. 

This morning, at 6:45, it was 24 degrees Celsius but felt like 30 degrees Celsius with humidity. 

Seeing as I was already up so early, I wanted to go for a run or do some form of exercise to work off the physical and mental impression the Pillsbury cookies left on me from Saturday night. But after checking the weather I just wanted to cry because how in the world does one breathe outside when it is seven in the A.M. and the humidity is only going to get worse?

So I decided to sleep for forty-five minutes, with an alarm set on my phone, and wake up feeling slightly better to go on a run. 

My alarm goes off – I shut it up. 

For the next eight minutes I fall back asleep and have the most absurd dream ever.

I’m pretty sure I’ve blogged about my dreams before because they’re hella strange. 

In this one, I open my eyes but it hurts to keep them open – like when you’re first waking up and you have to blink a couple of times to get yourself up. But my eyes refuse to stay open, and when I try moving my limbs, I can feel the bedding underneath my fingers but I can’t move my head or my eyes to see what I’m feeling. My eyes were just fixed on the curtain in my room, slightly open as I left it before I fell asleep. 

Everything felt crazy realistic. I kept thinking I was getting up and doing things around the house by the touch under my hands but my eyes were continually fixed on the white curtain.

I could hear wind outside and it looked like it was getting darker. I instantly thought there was going to be a tornado and I had to get to the basement yet I still couldn’t move.

Or, I was moving but I couldn’t tell because my vision was stuck on one memory?  

I thought someone had snuck into my house and drugged me – this thought reducing me to tears and heavy breathing. 

The next thing that gave me the clue I was dreaming was my Dad coming into the room and touching my foot like he always does to wake me up.

Side note: my Father was not home today for that to be possible.

I can’t recall what he was saying to me, but it sounded angry – something to do with getting out of bed?

And so, I finally wake up and can’t tell if this is reality or not.

Actually, I still can’t, that’s why I’m blogging about it.

Karma’s a bitch, let me tell you. If I hadn’t decided to go back to sleep and just sucked it up and gone on my run, I wouldn’t have dreamt that, making me not want to go on my run whatsoever now.

I hope Michelle calls me soon to hang out because this weather drives me insane when I’m by myself. 


Why The Tony Awards Matter

Well said – power to us theatrical folks.

Thought Catalog

Almost a week ago here in the Atlanta area, CBS cut off the Tony Awards seven minutes before the end just before announcing Best Musical, and supplanted them with the weather report (yup, still raining!) and the 11 o’clock news. From the ensuing social media uproar in response, you would have thought a harbinger of the apocalypse had just appeared, or, I don’t know, Mike Tyson bit off Neil Patrick Harris’s ear or something. CBS eventually issued a public apology attributing the abrupt cancellation of the program to “human error” (as opposed to malicious anti-thespian sentiment or act of God, I suppose) and re-airing the last seven minutes of the Tonys before all regular news broadcasts the next day. This did not, however, occur before every single theater person I know in the state of Georgia, with some enthusiastic support from theater people in Washington D.C. (shout-out to my hometown!)…

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