The Big 2-9

Hey, guys! I was at Theater Camp in Pittsburgh for a month. Now I’m back in California, wondering if my job will sponsor a caffeine addiction such that I can get 16 hours of double-overtime every day. Is it possible? Only science can tell.

Although it paid mostly in “the love of theater” instead of “dollars to make rent,” I always miss camp when it ends. The best part was when I got to sit backstage, carry set pieces on and off, and make children be quiet. Not tell. Make. Some people ask me why I come back to camp every year, and I tell them that it is because I hate children, and camp is the only place I can go where I get paid to yell at them. Then the person laughs awkwardly and searches my eyes to see if I’m kidding. I am, of course. The real reason I come to camp is because middle schoolers are the only ones who truly get my sense of humor and where the old “I didn’t know there was a working escalator behind that ledge!” joke gets ’em every time.

My hot cousin Jordan was “my” “assistant,” and she probably hates me now because I basically spent the month telling her, “Now, I know having OCD is nice and good in the real world probably, but here IT WON’T CUT IT. I have teachers screaming at me that I haven’t hand-fed them their sweet-n-sour pork. We don’t have TIME to arrange the lemons in a nice little wedge spiral!”

But somehow we made it, and maybe, contrary to my low self-esteem, not everyone hates me forever.

Yesterday was my birthday, which I somehow finagled, for the second year in a row, to have my birth celebrated on two subsequent weekends. Due to not recovering from camp for a few days and poor planning on my part, I wouldn’t have given my friends a chance to free up their weekends in celebration. So, while my close friends took me out and showed me how much they care last weekend…they’re doing the same next weekend at a wine bar! Where I have invited even MORE friends! Who apparently don’t like responding to Evites!

I kid, I kid. Or do I? How hard is it to check “maybe”? I see that you’ve viewed it, pal. You’re not fooling anyone. I also jokingly invited Gabe (from San Fransisco) and Kevin (from Atlanta) just to see if they’d come, because my mom, aunt Becky, and Jordan came to surprise me after a sort-of-joke invite two years ago. But they have access to free planes, whereas my Japan friends do not.

My Birthday Week 1 was delightful, though. My boyfriend was doting, my friends took me to expensive foods, and I will never grow out of feeling giddy when someone wishes me well via social networking sites. I especially won’t grow out of eating at a nice restaurant with Melissa and Traci, and when I have dressed improperly (It’s 1,000 damn degrees outside. Why on Earth would I bring a sweater, unless Benihana’s decided to sit me DIRECTLY UNDERNEATH THE ARCTIC CIRCLE), Melissa looks at my goosebumps, rolls her eyes, and says, “Ugh, it’s your birthday. Do you want my jacket or something?” And it warms the cockles of my heart. The sentiment *and* the jacket do, I mean. No, I didn’t take the jacket, but it was nice of her to begrudgingly offer. :)

So, I’m off to bed now, before another long day of making up for money lost by taking a working “vacation.” Another friend from Japan, Seth, is road-tripping around the country and making a stop on my couch tomorrow night. So, yes. This is a good week.