ABSENT.

I'll refrain from trying to make up and/or explain for my lack of posting over the past weeks...
Blame it on Paul. Or Cynthia. They want me to get into college, those silly geese.
Actually, I can make a rather concise listing of the things most detrimental towards my Blogger posting over the previous months, including (but not limited to):
-Seuss.
-Seuss.
-Seuss.
-Seuss.
-Seu-u-uss.
Ha! That's ridiculously overstated! It must be, for me to post it five times! How silly!
Or truthful. Good Lord of Musical Theatre, please kill this poor creation of yours to spare the theatrical audience at large.
Not that our production is awful. It could be entirely worse, and I know how destructive a show can be for an audience to sit through. It's the score, the consistent repetition of a few fun chords and refrains, and the lofty, "Seussian" book.
Aggh.
[Editor's Note: If you've yet to visit AccuBroadway.com, please do so before the rest of the world realizes what a miserable failure you are. Come on, people- they have a "Finales" sub-category. What kind of miserable doofus do you have to be to pass up an internet music library like that?]
Tomorrow begins the grueling yet intensely enjoyable process we call preview, and I could not contain within me further excitement beyond that which is bursting from within me. It shall be absolutely destructive towards my portion of the actual show, as Byron and I perform our entire thirty-eight second Song Of Death.
Enough about Seussical.

CONCESSION SPEECH (THE END OF DEMOCRACY AS WE KNOW IT).

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you so much. You just have no idea how warming and how generous that welcome is, your love is, your affection, and I'm gratified by it. I'm sorry that we got here a little bit late and a bit short.

Earlier today, I spoke to President Bush, and I offered him and Laura our congratulations on their victory. We had a good conversation and we talked about the danger of division in our country and the need – the desperate need – for unity, for finding the common ground, coming together. Today, I hope that we can begin the healing. In America it is vital that every vote count, and that every vote be counted. But the outcome should be decided by voters, not a protracted legal process.

I would not give up this fight if there was a chance that we would prevail. But it is now clear that even when all the provisional ballots are counted, which they will be, there won't be enough outstanding votes for us to be able to win Ohio. And therefore, we can not win this election.

My friends, it was here that we began our campaign for the presidency. And all we had was hope and a vision for a better America. It was a privilege and a gift to spend two years traveling this country, coming to know so many of you. I wish that I could just wrap you in my arms and embrace each and every one of you individually all across this nation. I thank you from the bottom of my heart. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

Audience member: We still got your back!

Thank you, man. And I assure you – you watch – I'll still have yours.

I will always be particularly grateful to the colleague that you just heard from who became my partner, my very close friend, an extraordinary leader, John Edwards. And I thank him for everything he did. John and I would be the first to tell you that we owe so much to our families. They're here with us today. They were with us every single step of the way. They sustained us. They went out on their own and they multiplied our campaign, all across this country.

No one did this more with grace and with courage and candor. For that, I love than my wife, Teresa. And I thank her. Thank you. And our children were there every single step of the way. It was unbelievable. Vanessa, Alex, Chris, Andre and John, from my family, and Elizabeth Edwards who is so remarkable and so strong and so smart. And Johnny and Cate who went out there on her own just like my daughters did. And also Emma Claire and Jack who were up beyond their bedtime last night, like a lot of us.

I want to thank my crewmates and my friends from 35 years ago. That great ‘band of brothers’ who crisscrossed this country on my behalf through 2004. Thank you. They had the courage to speak the truth back then, and they spoke it again this year, and for that, I will forever be grateful.

And thanks also as I look around here to friends and family of a lifetime. Some from college, friends made all across the years, and then all across the miles of this campaign. You are so special. You brought the gift of your passion for our country and the possibilities of change, and that will stay with us, and with this country forever.

Thanks to Democrats and Republicans and independents who stood with us, and everyone who voted no matter who their candidate was.

And thanks to my absolutely unbelievable, dedicated staff, led by a wonderful campaign manager Mary Beth Cahill, who did an extraordinary job. There's so much written about campaigns, and there's so much that Americans never get to see. I wish they could all spend a day on a campaign and see how hard these folks work to make America better. It is its own unbelievable contribution to our democracy, and it's a gift to everybody. But especially to me. And I'm grateful to each and every one of you, and I thank your families, and I thank you for the sacrifices you've made.

And to all the volunteers, all across this country who gave so much of themselves. You know, thanks to William Field, a six-year-old who collected $680, a quarter and a dollar at a time selling bracelets during the summer to help change America. Thanks to Michael Benson from Florida who I spied in a rope line holding a container of money, and turned out he raided his piggy bank and wanted to contribute. And thanks to Alana Wexler who is 11 years old and started kids for Kerry all across our country. I think of the brigades of students and people, young and old, who took time to travel, time off from work, their own vacation time to work in states far and wide. They braved the hot days of summer and the cold days of the fall and the winter to knock on doors because they were determined to open the doors of opportunity to all Americans. They worked their hearts out, and I wish… you don't know how much they, could have brought this race home for you for them, and I say to them now, don't lose faith.

What you did made a difference, and building on itself -- building on itself, we go on to make a difference another day. I promise you, that time will come. The time will come, the election will come when your work and your ballots will change the world, and it's worth fighting for.

I want to especially say to the American people in this journey, you have given me honor and the gift of listening and learning from you. I have visited your homes. I have visited your churches. I've visited your union halls. I've heard your stories, I know your struggles, I know your hopes. They're part of me now, and I will never forget you, and I'll never stop fighting for you.

You may not understand completely in what ways, but it is true when I say to you that you have taught me and you've tested me and you've lifted me up, and you made me stronger, I did my best to express my vision and my hopes for America. We worked hard, and we fought hard, and I wish that things had turned out a little differently.

But in an American election, there are no losers, because whether or not our candidates are successful, the next morning we all wake up as Americans. And that -- that is the greatest privilege and the most remarkable good fortune that can come to us on earth.

With that gift also comes obligation. We are required now to work together for the good of our country. In the days ahead, we must find common cause. We must join in common effort without remorse or recrimination, without anger or rancor. America is in need of unity and longing for a larger measure of compassion.

I hope President Bush will advance those values in the coming years. I pledge to do my part to try to bridge the partisan divide. I know this is a difficult time for my supporters, but I ask them, all of you, to join me in doing that.

Now, more than ever, with our soldiers in harm's way, we must stand together and succeed in Iraq and win the war on terror. I will also do everything in my power to ensure that my party, a proud Democratic Party, stands true to our best hopes and ideals.

I believe that what we started in this campaign will not end here. And I know our fight goes on to put America back to work and make our economy a great engine of job growth. Our fight goes on to make affordable health care an accessible right for all Americans, not a privilege. Our fight goes on to protect the environment, to achieve equality, to push the frontiers of science and discovery, and to restore America's reputation in the world. I believe that all of this will happen -- and sooner than we may think -- because we're America. And America always moves forward.

I've been honored to represent the citizens of this commonwealth in the United States Senate now for 20 years. And I pledge to them that in the years ahead, I'm going to fight on for the people and for the principles that I've learned and lived with here in Massachusetts.

I'm proud of what we stood for in this campaign, and of what we accomplished. When we began, no one thought it was possible to even make this a close race. But we stood for real change, change that would make a real difference in the life of our nation, the lives of our families. And we defined that choice to America.

I'll never forget the wonderful people who came to our rallies, who stood in our rope lines, who put their hopes in our hands, who invested in each and every one of us. I saw in them the truth that America is not only great, but it is good.

So here -- so with a grateful heart -- I leave this campaign with a prayer that has even greater meaning to me now that I've come to know our vast country so much better. Thanks to all of you and what a privilege it has been. And that prayer is very simple: God bless America. Thank you.

KELLEY HAS DSL.

Does that imply that I'd take the time to enjoy it?
Well, I have been stuck on AccuBroadway.com.
But that's a given.
I've been granted a whole new appreciation for Stephen Sondheim since returning from New York. I can't say I understand why, but his music is reaching me in a way it never had...
So much for being a "butch theatre" girl.
After all, "that's what it's really about, isn't it?"
Time to go hit myself in the head.

THERE'S A FINE, FINE LINE.

Solo musical, anyone? (I've been trying to convince Backel not to have anyone else sing it, never once revealing that I, myself, earnestly seek to do it for Districts.)
This has been the most exhausting week since Alexander the Great liked women.
I have no stamina, yet I keep typing.
I don't feel the need to rehash my New York trip for the world to read, seeing as I'm the only one who reads this, and, well, I was there.
Too bad. It would have made a nice story.
Oh, well.

I DON'T KNOW WHAT POST THIS IS; LA, LA, LA, LA, LA.

It's something from New York. Beyond that, I have no ideas.

UNTITLED AUDIO POST, LOSER.

I'M JANET RENO, AND I APPROVE THIS MESSAGE.

I'll me making the most minor of diversions this weekend...
It's off to New York for I!
Tee hee!
Not only am I lucky enough to finally bask in the glow of Nathan Lane, God Of All Things Musical And Therefore Holy, but I will catch his final performance in The Frogs.
Sunday...Egad; I can hardly wait.
[Editor's Note: My ranting and raving, especially over Mr. Lane, would be of a much rowdier nature if it weren't for the fact that I've yet to sleep and/or participate normally as a human being this week. I'm exhausted, yet overly giddy, and truly excited over the coming week.]
[Editor's Note: And Roger Bart. Oh, gracious Lord, let us not forget Roger Bart.]
I promise to be of a much more excited demeanor as the hours roll past, and furthermore, I hope to discontinue this lag in posting. It's simply been ages since I've taken the time to sit down and write, let alone stop and think, beyond breathing, in its infinite power and glory.
I will AudioBlog, because I have Nationwide long-distance after seven.
Final note:
Nathan,
Nathan, Nathan, Nathan, Nathan, Nathan, Nathan, Nathan, Nathan, Nathan, Nathan, Nathan, Nathan, Nathan, Nathan, Nathan, Nathan, Nathan, Nathan, Nathan, Nathan, Nathan, Nathan, Nathan, Nathan, Nathan, Nathan, Nathan, Nathan, Nathan, Nathan, Nathan, Nathan, Nathan, Nathan, Nathan, Nathan, Nathan, Nathan, Nathan, Nathan, Nathan, Nathan, Nathan, Nathan, Nathan, Nathan, Nathan, Nathan, Nathan, Nathan, Nathan, Nathan, Nathan, Nathan, Nathan, Nathan, Nathan, Nathan, Nathan, Nathan, break every freaking bone in your body.
And it better be an amazing Broadway show, because it's the only one I can afford to attend.

CLUB 8O'S.

How creative our Student Government Association is!
May they rot in hell...Except for the cute ones.
I have no deafening sighs of protest running through my mind when I realize that I will not attend my Senior year Homecoming dance. It's an entirely frivolous waste of my time, and I hardly prefer frantic dress shopping over life as a miserable, cat-woman-spinster, but not in the cool, Halle Berry-wearing-tights, sense.
In fact, I so overly prefer this style of living that I have decided to spend the rest of my existence in solitude. Pitman says that it's healthy. What could be more inviting than enumerated hours all at my leisure, discounted argumentation, as I would be sheltered from the rest of the fragile and moronic populace, and wholly developmental growth time, in the sense that I could take my weary hours of freedom and hone viable, important talents, such as keyboarding or telekinesis.
Your mouse is floating in the air right now, isn't it?
Eh, merde.
I wanted to go. Just a little bit, but still...
Ahh. I'll rehash all of these unbridled mental incompetencies at a later date, possibly lying on a couch in a session of over-priced therapy.
As long as I'm not paying for it.

THE NATURE OF STUBBORN.

I am, by nature, a belligerent individual.
"Duh," say the all the citizens of this vast universe.
If, as in some cases, it is absolutely necessary or more productive to look past this trait, I do so.
I cannot understand individuals who find themselves incapable of stepping back when a situation has reached a peak of heightened disorder in which the climax of the scenario threatens to explode at sub-normal degrees.
Confrontation is truly my strongest element.
How delightful life will be when I've no one to reside with but myself and maybe some other subordinate companion. (Not that they'll think they're subordinate, but we all know who will wear the figurative pants in my relationships.)
I need to relax. Meditate. Gather my center of energy into one gigantic, flaming ball of positive-yet-radioactive power.
Ahh. Radioactive argumentation- It's a dream, but a nice dream.
Perhaps it would be better to strive against procreation on my part. I'm pretty twisted.

IMPENETRABLY EXHAUSTED? THIS BLOG THINKS SO.

I can't even bother typing.
So exhausted.
The end.
Goodnight.

RASKOLNIKOV, YOU LUNATIC.

I actually miss reading Crime And Punishment.
Q: How disgustingly pathetic have I become?
A: Relatively pathetic, still working on disgusting.
I have this desperate desire for something uncomfortable and unpredicted to pop up into my life. Immediately. I need drastic change- it's the only thing that will wake me up, I fear. And I'm unsure of precisely what I'm striving for.
That's the petrifying part.
I have not the willpower to continue. My head aches beyond all belief, and I feel I may not be able to pull myself out of bed tomorrow. Time to rest.
Sweet dreams, Svid.

WE'RE WHOS, HERE. WE'RE ALL WHOS HERE: SMALLER THAN THE EYE CAN SEE.

You best be believing.
The consistent lack of Seussical cast rehearsals is starting to drain upon my mental facilities: we have nine weeks before the show, and we've yet to do anything.
I just want my last show to be amazing. Phenomenal. Mind-boggling.
Or I'm going to hurt someone. Really, really badly.
I would feel more articulate this evening if it weren't for the fact that I've been standing over my scanner, NOT illegally coping things which are illegal to copy.
All that nothing takes a lot out of you. As rehearsal has taught us.
Explanation:
Mentally, I don't know where I, or the universe at large, stand. I feel neither distraught or disheveled, yet highly aware of my own mentality. I know exactly the things I'm thinking of, and dare not take the time to translate scrolling thought into legitimate revelation. Writing would take much longer, therefore interrupting my sleeping pattern, and ruining whatever remains of my solitary life.
And you wouldn't want to be held responsible for that, would you?
Egh. I have never been subject to aching such as this. Am I aware of what aches? Of course not.
Breathe. Out. In. Etcetera.

I WANNA BE SEDATED.

Poor Johnny.
I have to say that the tiny, little punk-rock heart that thrives within me is breaking: He was a legend of ungodly proportions, and now he's a dead rocker of not-so-ungodly proportions.
I suppose it all evens out in the end.

OUT TONIGHT.

It's time to get out of the house in a most literal sense.
I need to go relax, laugh, become aesthetically pleasing, and take part in numerous exploits such as these.
Where to? I'm not sure.
And I've no one to go with. Boo-freaking-hoo.
Maybe I'll update in a realistic fashion later. I'm far too energized to waste time blabbing incessantly.
Tomorrow I shall blab. Perhaps.

MEOW.

I am presumably lacking in the power department. However, I've yet to find out, as I'm not in Orlando.
Oh well.
We're leaving (momentarily) for the east coast, at which point I can perform a full damage assessment and/or Mission Impossible-esque surveillance over the premises.
I've been in Hicksville for far too long. Save me.
We're tracking down cats- that's how intriguing these last few days have been.
I need a mall. And a food court. And a gay man.
Because heterosexuality is cool, but far too boring.

THE (PRESUMED) LATEST REPORTS FROM THE ORLANDO SLANTINEL.

UPDATE: 4:12 p.m.:
Shelter at Lyman High School is running low on food. Sunday afternoon, officials said they thought they had enough to last through lunch Monday. But after that....
The dinner plan for Sunday: Shelter residents who pick up a sandwich must have their hand stamped to guard against anyone helping themselves to seconds.
The shelter lost water at noon, and toilets wouldn't flush. But it was restored by 3:30 p.m.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
UPDATE: 3:43 p.m.: The decision on whether Seminole County schools will hold class on Tuesday will come after offficials can inspect the campuses on Monday. Some of the schools, however, may still be acting as shelters for evacuees.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I'VE ALREADY SURPASSED AN ENTIRE DAVE BARRY CALENDAR.

Just under 365 posts, and yet, far more humorous.
How do I do it?
I'm humble.
As is this hurricane that seeks to belittle my existence by tracking me across the state. Thursday, it's heading for Orlando: we pile into the car with four cats and a hamster. Now, it's heading for St. Pete: we're staying roughly twelve feet below sea level.
Nice.
I've had it with Mother-effing Nature.
At this point, I feel cut off from humanity in general, which is an okay thing. I miss civilization, namely that which fails to include my parents, but I'll tolerate one more day. Any longer, and I fear desperately for the safety of those around me, as they will most surely die.
How is it already September? I feel as though so much of this year has (sue me) floated by, and I've just been a carefree onlooker, laughing as innertubes and small children are carried off by torrential gusts of wind.
That's not too bad of an image, actually.
I'm hoping not to lose power for too long, if for any time at all. It all depends on whether or not the Lord God Himself wills that my education and "reading time" is worth diverting an entire tropical system for, despite His constant lack of interest in my petty hopes and dreams.
Rather strong-headed art Thou, O Lord?
I think so-o.

TELL ME MORE, TELL ME MORE.

1. Talked to the Bishop yesterday. He said, "hey, I remember you, but I have no idea who you are." That was basically the extent of our conversation.
2. Bought forty dollars worth of used scripts and librettos this evening. Six-piece Christopher Durang collection was the top seller at $2.00; I should have put up more of a fight.
3. Covered my room in blankets, comforters, towels, and anything else that was willing to spread over tangible surfaces, namely, every square inch of my room.
4. Drove down to St. Petersburg. Which should go before #2, as should #3. Who cares?
5. Watched two people struggle with the pronunciation of "Antigone." I didn't care to help.
6. Sat on the beach, wind passing across my face, thinking desperately about life in general. Lack of revelation to follow.
7. Ate my share of Pistachio Pistachio ice cream, which is, indeed, as disgusting as it sounds.
8. Found a Bill Clinton doll that was slumped over the edge of a countertop. Obviously from a heart attack.
9. Whipped out my "Tipper Rocks!" drum and hit it for desired effect.
10. Typed up a sorry excuse for an entry to provide insight into the going-ons of life at the moment. Really crappy. Soon to be deleted.

WHAT I WAS ACTUALLY WRITING IN AP LITERATURE.

A list. Of depressing things. Intriguing things.
Adjectives.
BROKEN.
STRUNG.
FRACTURED.
ILL.
DISHEVELED.
UNSURE.
INTENSE.
RELENTLESS.
PLAGUED.
LETHARGIC.
NOSTALGIC.
LITERAL.
INDISPOSED.
FRANTIC.
ILLITERATE.
COMPOUNDED.
OBSERVANT.
ANXIOUS.
UNINHIBITED.
PROLIFIC.
DECEITFUL.

THINKING OF A PERSON TOO TINY TO SEE.

Seussical on the brain.
Can you blame me?
I'm pulling for Mrs. Mayor, and the consensus is that I was cast as such, but I hope not to jeopardize my karma and delete this post in a ravenous, murderous fury tomorrow morning.
Hopefully, that won't be the case.
In whatever situation formulates tomorrow, I hope to be surprised. Casting the musical was certainly a challenge, and I could hardly say that I was fair, or bestowed upon my list the time I would actually invest when faced with the legitimate situation. I know I would have cast differently if I had the evening to brood over such things.
But I don't have to, do I?
I don't know what else to ramble about. I'm not going to waste my own time trying to decide.
Night.