Well, one of the remaining roommates -- who is not me or Jazmin, for the record -- has evidently decided that it's just not important to pay his rent anymore, so it looks like we're getting evicted whether we like it or not. I don't intend to actually kneecap him, just think about it very, very hard.

I am past the point where I respond at all well to stress. Mainly what happens is I sit here and cry. This is especially fun since I've somehow caught pinkeye. I don't know if it's viral/bacterial or just mechanical (e.g., got crap stuck on my lens and didn't notice until it scratched something), but it's just as unpleasant either way. So if you're wondering why I haven't answered your email, done the rest of the dishes, auditioned for your show, cured cancer, etc., it's because I can't stop shaking and sobbing long enough to get it done. I can slap on a pretty face and go do the jobs that require me to stand around in public smiling, but I don't have much left when I get on the train to go home.

I'm still restricted from blogging about some of the less-shitty things, but a few I can tell you all about now that the official announcements have gone out, mainly the shows:

I have been cast in the Post-Meridian Radio Players' Night of the Super Sleuths summer show, in their annual Sherlock Holmes adaptation, and I'm doing costumes for the second show in a row. I find this to be ungodly amounts of fun. I spent a decade or so in charge of Halloween costumes back in Flagstaff, and I've gotten good at begging, borrowing, or wheedling out of the cast the various pieces we need to do the PMRP shows very nearly for free. About half of the women's costuming comes out of my own closet, because my wardrobe is vast and magical. I am particularly happy that the ingenue in the Poirot show fits into my genuine vintage New Look knockoff dress, and that Mrs. Frewin is willing to let me finger-wave her hair. For my own character, I have seized upon the excuse to manufacture one of those gargantuan terrifying Gibson girl hats, because when do I not need a picture hat festooned with flowers and ostrich feathers? If you are local, performances are inexpensive and involve a charming concession stand out front where we display the results of making friends with a couple of food chemists; if you can't make it out to Somerville, the PMRP traditionally livestreams one of the performances, and I'll post the URL and time when I know them.

I am helping costume the Festival@First collection of Fractured Fairy Tales. I'm not chief costume mistress, but I am one of their show dressers, and I suspect some of the more elaborate costumes will come through my contacts, especially for the one director who suggested we put the female lead in an effing huge ball gown. Not all of the tales are adapted from the Brothers Grimm; several are original, one is based on a Korean(/Chinese/Japanese, they're roughly the same story) legend, and at least one involves taking the piss out of Disney. I offered, based on relevant experience, to handle the one dress that requires a tear-away skirt myself. Festival@First tickets are also inexpensive, and the link on the page is already active.

I am ushering/kittening part-time for Harburlesque, which is a weekly striptease show featuring the Boston Babydolls, which runs on the Music City Queen during a cruise around Boston Harbor. It's my first go-around working with Mizter Scratch, and I have to say the performers and tech crew are pleasantly talented, competent, and on the ball. I've been a minor flunky in the entertainment industry long enough to appreciate people who are interested in running things like professionals, rather than demonstrating their contempt for things like "society" and "custom" and "basic organizational skills" by running things like an egotistical clusterfuck. I've gone to a couple of modeling calls that I quietly walked out of halfway through because of that. If you can't run an audition without making a hash of it, you really are not going to get through a runway show.

And finally, I am volunteering at Alterna-TEASE, the quirky little burlesque conference-cum-travelling-performer-showcase. Circlet has already supplied prizes for the Bizarro Ball, a fundraiser this past weekend, and we'll be sending over more cheerful smut for the event itself, in August. I don't know what they've got me down for, but I've run their registration table for the past couple of summers, so that's a pretty good bet.

Only one of these pays, but they all involve spending time working for people who appreciate that I show up and competently perform the duties of my job, so they are a welcome break from everything else. One of my desperate-grasping-for-straws chants right now when I'm trying not to curl up in a hysterical ball is, "All the costumes fit, and the director loves me."