After the civil war, southern families, numbering in the thousands, left the United States to start a new life in Brazil. I had no idea. Two years ago, decendants of these “Confederados” returned to see what their ancestors had left behind. Thanks to Chip for the links from our local paper’s archives.

The opening weekend of the show was as good as I culd have ever hoped t could be. Standing room only Friday and Saturday. A larger than usual crowd for Sunday matinee. Rave reviews from the attendees. A spotless set of performances from the cast & crew (well, the matinee was a bit rough, but it was a matinee, and that’s just what happens). Rumor has it (I could not confirm) that Kim Basinger was in the audience on Friday. It’s not out of the question, as she is an Athens-area native. If she liked the show, I’d be happy to direct her next project.

Another good article about my play, this time from the university’s daily paper, The Red and Black. Tonight is opening night. Last night’s preview dress rehearsal in front of an audience went very well. I think it’ll be a hit.

Theater reviews almost never happen in this town. Previews usually get run in the papers, but they can be hit and miss. The first one for my show is out, and it’s nicely done: OnlineAthens: Entertainment: The guest who never left.

I’m going to order one of those mind-erasing kits. You see, if I erase my mind and forget how sleepy I am, I’ll stay awake forever!

I’ve been averaging four hours sleep a night over the last, oh, week or so. On the plus side, for the first time in a while, I’ve shared my bed the last two nights. Even if it’s just for a few hours, cuddling always makes me sleep better. The object of my affections? A bundle of fur named Sheridan. He’s a young stray that started hanging out at the theater (oddly enough) right after I wrote about it being almost time for a kitty. As cat lovers know, cats choose their owners and not the other way around, and the cat god decided the time was now, not two weeks from now. He’s pure black – every last hair. He’s very affectionate. He took to the litter box without trouble. He was mighty hungry and loves fish. He sleeps on my chest with his paws on my chin. My lease forbids animals, but my landlords told me when I moved in that I could have a cat (or dog, for that matter) if I asked them. “Have to keep out the riff raff, you know.”

So this is my idea. I’m thinking about ordering one of those mind-erasing kits.

Some of you may know of Mike Shawaluk’s labor of love, the Space Ghost Coast to Coast Episode Guide. It has, among other things, complete transcripts of every episode. And now it’s completely searchable, meaning you can easily find where they’ve discussed cheese. Or monkeys. Or organ grinder monkeys on cheese twists.

Suppose President Bush had written a letter to his son suggesting that while Dick Cheney would make a fine Vice President, how about running with dear old dad instead. Michael Kelly of the Washington Post has not only supposed the existance of such a letter, he went ahead and wrote the whole thing. It’s a very funny read.

Freefill: Drink Different™ The freefill concept will ultimately change how we think about ourselves, and the world. Until that time, freefills will be used by a select number of citizens when demanding more than one cup of their beverage of choice.

Mmmm, this is some good coffee! I thought we were out of coffee.
     “I found some more. It’s in the orange container.”
(does spit take) You fool! (collapses) That’s decaf!

My horoscope for the week, from Free Will Astrology:

"… fungi are primarily responsible for keeping the earth fresh. Without them to eat away dead leaves and trees, larger and larger piles of compost would keep accumulating forever. I’m asking you to let the heroic fungi inspire you in the coming weeks, my dear. Devote yourself to expediting the decay of the defunct parts of your life."

I don’t know what made me check this today, but I’m glad I did. I can see the rich black compost and feel the grains under my fingernails. I can taste the flavorful spongy mushrooms and smell the earthy yet clean aroma. Oh, here I am being “obscenely sensual” again. I can’t help it. It’s Day Eighteen, and all is well.