August 1, 2006

"Hot Hot Hot," "Ouch, My Eye," and "WHO Wants To Meet With Me?"

Like most of the rest of the nation and other parts of the world, I'm on fire today. In my brief intermission at home before going out for the evening, I'm actually trying out that trick I always assumed was some stupid Cosmo "Isn't this sexy" sidebar blurb and not something people actually do. Yes, my underthings are in the freezer. And a few outerthings, too. Hey, I gotta schmooze tonight. I don't want to bring the funk along with whatever charm I'll be able to muster.

It's been another day of ups and downs. Woke up with some kind of eye infection/irritation, surely due to the unidentified particle that flew into my eye at top speed as I rode my bike to an appointment yesterday sans sunglasses, having lost them at the i.O. show Saturday night. (I'd made my peace with the loss...they were $12 Target specials that had served me well for a longer period that I'm usually able to successfully maintain ownership of sunglasses.) My eye is red and swollen and painful. I'm hoping no one will notice that I've slathered on more undereye concealer than Ginger Spice circa 1995.

Posted the unexpected coup of an interview with Eugene Mirman on The Bastion. I still can't believe these people are willingly communicating with me and answering my questions about their comedy work. Very fun, very exciting.

Walked a friend's dog in the frying heat, ran home for a quick shower, was late for work. Didn't get a call I was expecting about a much-wanted work opportunity. (Later found out it fell through altogether.)

Got home, rifled through the day's mail offerings. There was an envelope from the Chicago Police Department. It was paperwork on the report I'd filed about my stolen bike. The report read, paraphrased, "Dear Bella, thank you for making the mostly empty gesture of filing this report on your stolen bike, which, of course, you will never see again. By our estimation, it was bartered for crack about five minutes after you realized it was gone, most likely by that dude you saw staggering into the convenience store last night, who was trying to pawn an obviously stolen vacuum cleaner to the nice Mexican dude who always cheerfully sells you your Diet Monster."

Then, the upswing. An e-mail: a well-placed industry person is going to be in Chicago and wants to meet with me and my Bastion partner K-Rock, to pick our brains about up-and-coming Chicago comedy talent. What? Um, yeah, we can make time for that. And wow, this kind of makes up for every little crummy thing that's happened today.

How has all of this happened in three weeks? I'm telling you guys, you can blog, blog, blog your way to happiness. Just look at your ol' pal Bella. Now, on with the frozen slip, on with the undereye glop, and out the door.

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