Blood Red Soap.

Savage in Limbo goes up in fifteen hours. I won't be there, but the Whackedor will.

And I'm pissed.

I wasn't angry when the Whackedor went insane. I have better things to do than care about that. But the decisions the company has been making are beyond idiotic, and that pisses me off.

Apparently, the "understudy" for the Whackedor is unprepared and unwilling to take over. My friend, the one who's like family, the one who has been going through more hell than me since Sunday, has been informed that she can't step out because her "understudy" is unprepared and unwilling to take over.

So I'm sending in the board my resignation letter in a few hours. You might notice that I'm slightly miffed at them. Notes are appreciated.

( Dear Sirs and Madams, )

(Update: Sent at 9:15 PST.)

Freedom.

I have resigned as the stage manager of Savage in Limbo, after being verbally and physically assaulted by one of the actors in the show and after what I feel to be some horrendous decisions by the theater company's board of producers. As a result, I have a bunch more free time. Much of this will go to cleaning mi casa, but if anyone's interested in doing something, I'm more than up for it. You know, I still haven't had time to see The Return of the King . . .