I just realized that I had a pint of Ben & Jerry’s chocolate fudge brownie in the fridge from a couple weeks ago. Thank you, Past Me, for making Present My evening.

So. The Mountain. I am in physical pain. Who watches this stuff? Five minutes in, I wanted to beat my head against a wall repeatedly after gouging my eyes out with a spoon. Seeing James was quite nice, but there was far too much Not James to be worth it. If he’s in future episodes, I’ll have to see if some kind soul on Buffy.nu will assemble a “Just James’ Scenes” version and watch that. Good lord, that was painful. I’d forgotten just how priceless shows like Firefly and Lost are. I’d forgotten just how bad TV can be.

Anyway, part of my glee over the Ben & Jerry’s thing is my celebration over my ability to eat dairy again. When I’m in a show, I try to eat minimal amounts of dairy, as it thickens the mucus, but now that “Annie Get Your Gun” is finished, I can have all the dairy I can eat, mwahahahaha! This is especially meaningful to one whose favourite foods are chocolate and cheese.

Oh! And I haven’t written about “Annie Get Your Gun”! The Friday, Saturday, and Saturday matinee performances went swimmingly. My parents came up to Philly and got to see all three, and my roomies cheered me on at Friday’s performance. Also in attendance were Ari (Saturday night) and Rachel A (Saturday mat). Whee! Strike went well, though I got a slight graze on the back of my right hand from falling off a bench, disassembling set pieces. Elementary Physics of Levers and Fulcrums 1, Priscilla 0. I only stayed at the cast party for about 30 minutes, as excessively loud music and rampant alcoholism isn’t my scene, but there was some Aaron schnoogling and that was nice, so all is good in the world.

Except maybe for the fact that as of the moment I’m writing this, 32 hours remain until I am two decades old, which is unsettling and eerie. I will be an ex-member of the Teen Girl Squad, in that bizarre year between teenagehood and adulthood. Madness, I tell you! Madness!

Oh, and Monday is the last day for my gallery show, so if any of you Philadelphians reading my blog haven’t seen it, check it out! The Arthur Ross Gallery in the Addams Fine Arts Building. Closes at 5.

And now, sleep. Sleep can never be overrated.