NaBloPoMo ’14, Day Eight: Oh, you’re no fun anymore.

EVERYONE IN THE WORLD SAW LAURA BENANTI AT FEINSTEIN’S BUT ME.

That is a lie. Everyone in the Bay Area saw Laura Benanti at Feinstein’s but me. You are dicks, everyone, and I hate you.

I think I’m supposed to go to a callback for Les Miserables tomorrow night? I don’t know. I was really into the idea of being in that show, and then I realized that the only thing I’d ever be considered for is Mme Thenardier and it’s just like…meh. I know I’m a fat-ass, and I know a six-foot-tall, hefty Fantine probably wouldn’t inspire the same kind of sympathy a wee, waifish one would, but lawwwwwwd I give you such an “I Dreamed a Dream”, y’all can’t even handle it. And fatties can be prostitutes and get consumption too, you know. Whatever. I’m just gonna continue to be over here getting paid some sweet, sweet Equity money to pretend I’m Ethel Merman for five more weeks. SO THERE.

I started this entry before midnight, and therefore it still counts. I am playing fast and loose with all the rules this year.

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