Yes, I've been lagging on the blog. In terms of new developments, there are a few, but things seem to be chugging along status quo.

The rest of my family, with whom I live, all work for the same company. Said company is winnowing its local office. How it affects my mom, sister and brother-in-law? Sister and bro-in-law may be relocating to Virginia. They have a few months to make a decision. Mom hopefully will get a position in the department that remains here. There were rumblings and rumors of this for a good long while, so it's not exactly a bombshell, but still it lends a definite immediacy. It's the start of a sea change for sure.

Tomfoolery is beginning to really jell in rehearsals. Though I did have a mini-crisis of confidence on Wed. night. Different parts of harmony were broken out on a few songs. One of the guys in my cast is musically trained - has a wonderful operatic voice - and figured out the parts on the fly. Trouble is, I don't know how to sight-read, and minutes after we went over the parts, zoom, out my other ear. I just felt really inexperienced (hell, it's my first real musical) and a step or two behind the other folks. I'm going to scrounge around my bedroom and find the tape recorder I bought when I was doing stand-up comedy for 3 minutes, take it to rehearsal on Saturday and record my part, then go home and learn it by ear, which I've done with every other song in the show. Fortunately, I have good friends - and a hell of a girlfriend - to help me put the negative inner voices in perspective. Two weeks to go, so no time for insecurity.

The week will be extra frenetic between rehearsals, work, and a couple of festivities surrounding my birthday (on Tuesday, if you wanna know). The family's taking me out to dinner Saturday night. On the actual day, I'll be spirited down the coast to Half Moon Bay by my girlfriend. Her name's Gina. She's awesome - smart, gorgeous, thoughtful, engaging. I'll stop with the gushing, as I don't have enough insulin for everyone. After the b-day, the rehearsals really crank up and segue into hell week (when we nail down the technical stuff like light and sound cues and such). But damn, it's gonna be fun.

The rally was an immense mass of humanity. Police say about 50,000 folks were there. Organizers say 200,000. I officially say the attendance was "an assload."

I tried to get myself over to the theatre on Potrero Hill - to take Muni and BART to the rally - but the backup on Van Ness was so pronounced that I thought, "Hey, why don't I go over to Polk (a parallel street) and get to where I need to go?" Wrong move. I ended up in a cluster of diverted traffic that brought me back to Van Ness about a half an hour later, to where I just said fuck it and parked at a shopping center a couple of blocks away from the Civic Center Plaza. Of course, the activities and speakers went long, but really, how pissed can you be when Martin Sheen and Bonnie Raitt and Joan Baez and Dolores Huerta are doing their respective things ahead of you? We eventually went on at around 4, an hour late. The song, even with an added verse we wrote last night at rehearsal, ran 2 minutes max. Got on, performed, took off. 3 hours waiting, 2 minutes performing. Hey, what the hell, it's not very often one gets to sing in front of an assload of people. Not bad for a ragtag group of actors putting on a small show in a converted church on the south side of town.

Jon Rosen, our director, got us in by sending an email to the rally organizers. They rejected 90% of the people who requested stage time, but when they heard that we wanted to perform a Tom Lehrer song, they said they had near-unanimous support for us. Too fuckin' cool. We're anti-war and we're PR whores - it's a win-win, baby. Hopefully, I'll get photos soon. When I do, they'll be posted here.

Nice press release by CNET. They could not have spun it any harder. Bottom line: they're shitcanning their radio station (in S.F. and on XM Satellite Radio) on 1/31, so I'll have to look elsewhere for my Online Tonight and occasional Rob Black fix.

Thank God the cold I had wasn't debilitating - it's pretty much gone, except for the lingering traces of chest congestion I have left, but my singing voice is fine. My body, however, is sore as hell from the dancing. It's nothing too complicated, either - just sheer repetition. Last night we ran through "The Vatican Rag," and let me tell you, there's a lot of kneeling in that one. I'm surprised I don't need a walker today. I'm a freakin' wreck.

But great news has come down the pike - the cast has been asked to perform "Send the Marines" at the anti-war rally in S.F. on Saturday! This is gonna be fun. In the meantime, Advil and a hot tub soak may be the ideal prescription.

The rhinovirus has hit me - ugh. Head and chest cold, both fairly mild at this point, but still potent enough to keep me in bed today, at least until rehearsal. I've started dosing on Zicam, echinacea, astragalus, vitamin C, cough drops, Chloraseptic, chicken soup. I should also be getting some black elderberry extract, which is a really good treatment to shorten a cold.

In the meantime, I soldier on with rehearsals. We're beginning our second week, and it's a great ensemble. Having fun, trying not to be nervous since this is my first musical endeavor since 8th grade. Yesterday we worked on our company numbers vocally. Tonight we choreograph more songs. This may be the thing I'm most nervous about. Lehrer's songs are in my vocal wheelhouse, so I'm not overly worried about that. It's the dancing that I know I need to concentrate on. Eeek.

And perhaps I should mention the fact that, um, I'm now officially off the market. And I couldn't be more pleased about this development. I had dinner with her and her friends last Sunday, and I guess they lent their imprimaturs of approval. Heh heh. She accompanied me to my company's holiday party on Friday - yeah, it's way past the holidays, but the company has always scheduled the party in January. It was a rather nice feeling to have a date. In prior years, I'd always attended these functions stag, which made me feel really isolated and not inclined to be social. I know I've bemoaned the feeling I've had, that perhaps I wasn't boyfriend material because I haven't had any really enduring relationships. It scared me to go back to someone with whom I had such great chemistry, for fear of tarnishing a good, idealized, hermetically sealed past memory, or for fear of hurting someone special or getting hurt in a moment of vulnerability. But all I can do is enjoy the moment and leave myself open to experience things as they happen, a day from now, a month from now, however long we're together. I just have to trust myself to be Zen enough to do that.

Hanne was mugged this morning outside her house in Baltimore. Her purse was stolen and she got a black eye and other bruises and scrapes from the assailant. Needless to say, I'm upset, and I'm sure her legion of friends and fans are as pissed off and concerned as I am. I'm hoping for swift healing and swifter karma.

Well... lessee... what the hell's happened lately? Sister and nephew came down and stayed with us until Xmas Eve, which was great. We did end up having 2 parties after all, neither of them too raucous, but sweet Jebus there were leftovers for days. I think we still have about 80 pounds of brie, and my bro-in-law made turkey soup tonight to give the bird a decent burial at sea. No gifts were exchanged, except to give to various youngins in the extended family. I got nephew a few vid games and a new PS2 controller. He seemed quite happy - and I didn't have to step foot in a physical store to get the gifts, a wonderful tonic for my even December keel.

Dating front dispatch #1: A crossed signal on my part - for the first time in recent memory, I didn't check my frickin' voice mail - led to me sitting in a tiny dive bar at Ocean Beach for half an hour, sucking down a Red Hook ESB, meeting a patron's pet rat that she snuck in, letting other folks' cig smoke waft into my clothing and lungs, and who knows what other illegal activity, while a 3-man band wailed away in the corner on '70s cock rock. Yes, I do like "Surrender," and "Last Child," and even "The Immigrant Song," but my head was vibrating from the recital. My prospective date had an unforeseen emergency. I've left phone and email messages. No response. So it goes. She was actually someone who sent a response to my personals ad that was imaginative, smart and laugh-out-loud funny. Things happen for reasons I'll probably never know. I didn't know enough about her to be full-on wistful, but there's a tinge floating about.

Dating front dispatch #2: I had a fabulous date on New Year's Eve - first one I've ever had on NYE. We had a fantastic dinner at XYZ, the unfortunately-named restaurant in the W Hotel across from Moscone Center. A quite reasonably-priced meal, all exquisite tasting, but ambiance was hijacked by the club music the trendoid W decided to pipe into the place. After dinner, a low-key evening topped off with Champagne and Scharffen Berger bittersweet chocolate at midnight. This is someone I dated briefly earlier this year, and we crossed paths again when she came to see me in Julius Caesar.

Anyone who's read this here blog for any extended period of time (and it's been over 2 years now?!) knows I don't elaborate on any of my romantic entanglements except in the most general and abstract ways - at least not until I get dumped, usually, and even then it's a sparse illustration. I just consider it common courtesy to not talk about such things while: 1) I'm keeping the confidence of people bereft of a bully pulpit such as this; and 2) any past, present and future romantic partners have access to Google and my own archives. (Same policy applies to job issues, for entirely unsalacious reasons.) Let me just say: Twenty-ought-three has gotten interesting right off the bat.

And now, my bullshit resolutions:

1. I resolve to look up the definition of the adjective "Hobbesian" and work it into everyday conversation, if only because I like the sound of it.
   
   
2. If I see one more TV news "story" on beginning-of-year-classic-American-binge-purge-weight-loss (like that fucking house-arrest stunt they pulled on Good Morning America), I resolve to puke blood, which I hear has quite a slimming effect.
   
   
3. I resolve to take myself more seriously (to a point) as an actor, and to curry up some business sense in this field.
   
   
4. Um, did I mention this crazy idea about living on my own apart from my family? Okay.
   
   
5. I resolve to not let my own irrational fears, and the ones projected onto me (in a loving tradition handed down between generations) by the ones I love, bind my actions and stunt my growth.
   
   
6. I resolve to let affirmations sink in for at least a few seconds before I completely discount them using the old cynic that resides in my spleen. (Hey, baby steps.)
   
   
7. I resolve to let a dreamlife flow from head to keys once in a while, even if it means turning off the psychic pacifier with the kickin' 27-inch (diagonal) screen and the aural emetic with the speakers that produces leaden commercials and an occasional crappy song or masturbatory topical blather wedged in.
   
   
8. I resolve to let the above bullshit resolution be the first and last time I unfurl a "kill your media" rant, because deep down I am still a wanton pop culture slut.
   
   
9. I resolve to once again take up the banner that the wise and wondrous Moxie used as a resolution last year: Eat more cake. It is bread, it is sugar, it is an endorphin massage with a velvet glove.
   
   
10. I resolve to call audibles on all resolutions, unabashedly and unapologetically.