smells 'n sensations.

It drives me absolutely crazy when my roommates cook something. It always smells so good, but it's not for me. Even though I'm sure they'd share in a heartbeat because they truly are sweethearts - Proof that your best friends aren't always good roommates and your roommate doesn't have to be your best friend to be an ideal roommate. Anyway, it smells like home, which weirds me out because this apartment, lovely as it is, is kind of just the place I shower, sometimes hang out, and y'know, occasionally sleep. Home is a strange concept to me as of the past couple of years.

Connecticut is my birthplace and home of my youth.

England is where I belong, always have, always will.

Founders Brook is the only residence I've had over the past three years that actually felt like home to me.

And right now, I seem to be back at that "Where am I" caught inbetween a million places sitch-ee-ation I was at last summer. I should carry a suitcase with all my important life necessities in it everywhere I go. It would be a quirk.

Anyway, I basically just performed surgery on my finger to retrieve the most badass splinter ever seen that I got yesterday as I semi-gallantly tossed a two-by-four onto a shelf. Srsly, this thing was huge and it went so deep, I couldn't see it at all anymore - Just slightly felt it when I ran my finger over it. Well, it took a safety pin, some tweezers, a pair of little thread scissors and a whole lot of squeezing, but I got it out, or at least most of it. That's good.

The play I'm currently SMing has been in rehearsal for over a week and it definitely doesn't feel like it. I think maybe we need to get in the space, not have all the construction going on, and then it'll feel right. Maybe not. I'm actually thinking it won't feel underway until I'm starting to call the show. Really.

But, srsly, otherwise, summer '09 has commenced with a bang. A really great, really huge bang.