Markre de Sol: Behind the Ramparts and Dreaming

One man's quest to articulate the grunts and gurgles of modern life.

Name:
Location: Chicagrocrag, IL, Fiji

I got like, this big, big stick of gum. I chew it a little bit at a time, because I wanna savor it.

Thursday, May 04, 2006

The winds of change blow from oe'r the Olentangy

Dog chunks,

It seems that this little chapter of my life is quietly weaving its way shut like a student-made pocket in "Home-Ec" class. Dr. Caleodis, original patron of my post-undergraduate improv education is moving out of C-town to greener pastures. I, myself, am due to defend my thesis in a mere 14 days. AAAAAAH!!!! The Destructicon may be moving elsewhere to pursue some acting for a bit - more on that as developments, um, develop. And there's the inevitable move to Chicago which I pretend is arranging itself entirely without any effort from my part. I have priorities man! Priorities! Such as Bibliographies! Sources! Editing! Restructuring my introductory chapter! Appendicies?? AAAAAAAAHH!!!! Quickly! Down the incinerator!

I have an improv gig in Cleveland tomorrow night. Woot to making monies doing what I love. Woot woot.

Oh yeah. I devastatingly hurt the feelings of a member of the Burpee's OWTO audience by dumbly suggesting something about 9/11 as an input. It's not everyday that you really hurt someone's feelings, but it teaches a good lesson on sensitivity. So if you're that girl who I offended - I'm sorry. If you're not that girl, then go eat a peanut you peanut-eater!

Art isn't easy!

Markre del Soloffagus McShenly Caidy Kennelsmith Smyting Whapping Wuthuring Schmeng.

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