I'm the only gay eskimo

I didn't leave the house today. Not true- Mosa and I tried to go to Berkeley Bowl, but it was closed. Being, y' know, easter. It's very strange to realize that all of a sudden, it's what qualifies as evening, you've been awake for multiple consecutive hours, and have stayed really in the same two rooms all day. Speaking of which, I need to take my laundry out of the machine. In a minute.
Slight rant ahead-
There are two main reasons a stage manager has a prompt book. Reason 1- so they know when to call the cues. Reason 2- so if they get hit by a bus, some one else who is not familiar with the show will be able to come in and call the cues. Hence-if it is closing weekend and some one wants to look through your book for information, what the hell does it mean that the book is "occupied"?? I need to look through it. Not move it, not take pages out to photocopy, just look through it. I don't understand why I have to schedule time with this guy to do this. He doesn't need to be there, unless, of course, the book ain't finished (and then the word choice of 'occupied' would make sense) in which case, it's closing weekend, if your book isn't settled now, it never will be. I understand him being precious about it. I understand if he still has a few things on postits and he's really worried about them falling out. But I would rather he said something like 'I'm sorry, my book is really fragile and I'm really hesitant to let anyone else touch it' rather than it's 'occupied'. I like silly-borderline-rude rather than lying-avoiding-rude. Rant over.
You like how I cleverly avoided any mention of me being at fault for waiting till closing weekend to get this information? Cause it totally is. I should have done this all last week, when I had barely any work. Then again, maybe he should stop being a giant baby, and just let me borrow it. Not even borrow. Turn the pages of. Hey, I said rant over. Right.
So everyone has silly celebrity crushes, right? Well, mine is Jesse Bradford. He's been in a number of things, google him if you want. Well, today (somewhere in the middle of me not leaving the house) I got the brilliant idea to see if he has a myspace page (hey, Hal Sparks [quick plug: really funny, very nice in person dude] does, so why not). So I check, and yes, yes he does. My illusions are now shattered and lie broken on the floor. Maybe it's just the layout(s) (there were two pages I found, I really hope the first one is some one pretending to be him), but he comes off as kind of a dick. But all his comments were about how great and nice he is. Whatever. I'm just going to try to forget that I found them, and reclaim my illusions. Sad.
I may go to this closing night party thing. If only to get some pizza. But for now, I'm going to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.