The Icon Faerie

I wish the worst thing that had happened in the last 48 hours was missing Jonathan Groff at Promises, Promises, but no. Then I had to get rear-ended on 347 mere miles from Stony Brook. We're both (Bee and I) okay, a little sore but nothing that an ibuprofen cocktail won't cure, and the damage to my car is cosmetic (I think. My license plate is bent and the paint is scratched) but the damage to her car is kind of epic. The fender broke and the Ford symbol was like, in her engine instead of outside on the grill.

We called the cops and they got bitchy because I didn't have my registration card with me (the state of NY sends you SO MUCH CRAP when you register a car and I've been here a grand total of nine months, how the fuck was I supposed to know?) but the report was nice and straight forward. She admitted fault, so no one has to put up a fight for anything. I think I'm going to call tomorrow and see if I can take my car to the dealership in the afternoon (depending on how tired I am) or on Saturday, just to check it out. If it's cosmetic I won't bother fixing it, but I just want to make sure that nothing got damaged and is going to fall off somewhere on I-80.

I also think I should call my insurance and see if I need to switch my address to Iowa. 'Cause I don't want to (call them or switch) but even less do I want my insurance to get cancelled.

I could just switch my insurance company but I'm too fucking exhausted to think about it right now. Maybe in the fall.

There's also this fascinating kerfuffle happening amongst people in the TV/film/theatre business, talking about this Newsweek article wherein the guy (I can't be arsed to remember his name) basically said, "gay actors cannot play straight" and his first victims were Sean Hayes (currently in Promises, Promises) and my honey Jonathan Groff (now on Glee, macking it up with Lea Michele again), who honestly had me fooled until he came out of the close this fall for a number of reasons. It's just been a wanksplosion. Since I have no more schoolwork I think I might collect articles and comments and the like and write a wank report. Because this is seriously fucking epic.

Also, speaking of gay, roseanna and I are going to see The Temperamentals tonight. We're going to download and watch Supernatural when we get home. And then she is leaving me in the morning. :(

So an ER visit is not how I like to start my day (unless I could get Peter Petrelli to be my paramedic, in which case I would probably have more "accidents"). Not to alarm everyone, there weren't any paramedics involved this time around, just me. I woke up a few different times during the night with a tight chest -- as in, HOLY FUCK CAN'T BREATHE -- and did my best to remedy it. When I woke at 3, the inhaler kind of worked but not enough to where I was comfortable enough to go back to sleep. So I sat in the bathroom while I ran the shower on hot and the steam helped a lot. So I went back to sleep and woke up about a quarter of five, same story. Except this time inhaler didn't work and neither did the shower (and YES I was starting to panic but I was trying NOT to panic because I know that wouldn't help). I even got dressed and sat outside for a bit just in case it was something in the house. But I panicked anyway and since my mom is at my grandmother's and I would have felt guilty calling and waking her up (because trust me, my mom is not awake right now), I drove myself to the ER.

It only took about 30 minutes all in all (DeWitt's ER is not exactly County General or Seattle Grace, here), and the doctor gave me a script for prednisone to open up my bronchial tubes. They gave me a dose there too and it seems to be working. I just hate that this indicates that I am now clearly an adult because all I can see is the dollar sign attached to everything. I hate money, and I hate not being clear on what my insurance is since that's been a pain in my ass ever since I turned 23. One of the ladies at the eye doctor yesterday when we discovered I'm not insured for eye care said, "Isn't being a college graduate fun?" and I was forced to answer, "No, so far, it blows." And then fill out the blank check my dad had given me for $339.40.

In happier news, Jonathan Groff is playing Dionysus in The Bacchae at the Public Theatre in August, and I am moving to New York in August. Fate? Possibly. Coincidence? Considerably more likely. But that doesn't mean I'm not going to try and swing it before school starts. Yes, I am a crazy fangirl, but a) you wouldn't have me any other way, and b) ...



... if loving him and what he can do on stage is wrong, then I don't want to be right.

So I've been watching the pre-air of Pretty Handsome - mostly for Jonathan Groff, because I am only a warm blooded female, but it is turning out to be pretty amazing. Joseph Fiennes, Carrie Anne Moss, Blythe Danner, and a host of other talented people are also in it. If it's not picked up by someone, I may weep.

Well. I might weep anyway, but that's completely unrelated.