A Damn Good Day

Yesterday rocked. Seriously.

I went through half of yesterday under the impression that it was actually Wednesday. (It’s been a longish week, gimme a break here.) That was part of what made it so good!

I’m no good at Thursdays. It’s me and Arthur Dent against one seventh of our time spent on Earth, man. I just never got the hang of Thursdays.

Ironically, Thursday is also the name of one of my favorite literary characters, Thursday Next (spawned by the ingenious Jasper Fforde), a creative, resourceful, independent woman who owns a cloned dodo and for a time ran the network world of fiction from within. That’s a nice résumé right there.

The fact that I was blissfully ignorant of yesterday’s status as a Thursday was only one contributing factor to the goodness of my day. There were others. Oh good, you want to know what those factors were:

I finished another draft of my screenplay for Scriptapalooza. It is almost exactly the same as the first draft; just formatted to better fit the standards they’ll be expecting, and trimmed because sometimes I just use too many damn words. No, really.

Good thing about yesterday number three: Rehearsal went very well last night. We did the speed through: Comical at times, frustrating at others, entertaining to beat the band throughout. My character the Reverend Bobby Groves has a prayer or two of some length, which lacked patent sincerity when recited at break-neck pace. But funny.

Good thing numero quatro: we all went out afterwards, as we finished somewhat earlier than usual last night. ‘Dead Man Walt’, or Bill, is a great guy. I’ve wanted to hang out with him for a while now, and we finally got the chance after a number of missed opportunities. It’ll come as no surprise to hear that the man rocks.

OOH. Forgot. Good thing number five: I got to help out a friend yesterday afternoon. She used me as a personal reference for a job (which she got!), and I spoke to her new employer for a few minutes on the phone. I gave her a genuine glowing review. I love stuff like that.

And number six; quite possibly the best news all day… I got a new hat. I’m a fedora man. Just love ‘em. Have since High School. I’m now on my third one, and I hope it’ll last me. My first hat went to a friend of mine after doing a scene together from Waiting for Godot. We were playing bums, and they seemed to need hats, so there that was. It looked good on him and he liked it so I said “Take it, it’s yours.”

My second fed lasted a good long while, ‘til Mary tried it on. This was a year and a half ago. We were out with friends (same restaurant), following a rehearsal. I got back to the table from the restroom and Mary had put on my hat. Which looked great on her. I mean, we’re talking YOWZA. The hat no longer belonged to me, it was her hat from that moment on. I informed her of such and it went a long way toward making her night. (She later wore the hat with a great outfit when she came to see Charlie’s Aunt. Again with the homina homina homina.)

Now, after the gesture of giving away my favorite hat, I couldn’t just *go out* and pick up another one for myself. I thought that’d cheapen the gesture some how, as if they grew on trees or something. So I held off on getting a new one. Well; I figured 18 months was a long-enough statute of limitations on me-gifting (as opposed to de-gifting or re-gifting). And now I have a new hat. Hooray!

Yesterday was a damn good day. I was (and remain!) in better spirits than I’ve been in a while, and I hope the friendly winds hang around. Cheers, people.