frank lloyd wrong.

my comrades and lovers.
please excuse my absence. although i have not been posting, i have not been far and still have been checking up on all y'all and reading your shit. love ya.
me, i've been stressing and worrying and yet, somehow, also been lazy and incomprehensible. therefore, posting was out of the question. but seeing as how this is the day of the show (y'all), i feel as though i can breathe easy.
it has been three weeks and, my, how time flies when you find yourself in a high-school musical with little time to prepare. okay, this isn't a high-school production. it just feels like it. all we need are some basketball hoops hovering, and we can call it a day. also, from the looks of it, winter is upon us. according to my dictionary that means the time of year for paul to hibernate emotionally and distance himself from anything and anyone that isn't either chocolate, alcohol, or incessantly reassuring.
again, let me reiterate: "thanks to my family for not shooting me in the face."
i do not exaggerate.
anyway, the experiment. i am dumb. that's my disclaimer. let me also add i was drunk at the time i wrote that (if you couldn't tell). be that as it may... so the day i was supposed to unveil my newfound thinness and play xylophone on my ribcage happened to fall upon the day after thanksgiving. we can thank the pilgrims and indians for bringing to this great nation a feeling of deep shame and amber waves of gluttony.
however, all is not lost. this past week, due to being ill and giving myself a mental hernia from stressing myself out, i have somehow managed to avoid eating all that much. food has been replaced with an insane dedication to hydration, so my vocal cords are glistening with mucus and ready to vibrate. water and tea have become my drink of choice. as well as whiskey, which is also good for the throat. really. it is.
anyway, my point is this, dear readers: i unintentionally lost my ten pounds, without even meaning to. i gave up about two days after i started. but wouldn't you know it, self-doubt and a bad immune system have a funny way of making everthing okay.
oh, and let me explain the title of this post. the stupidest line of the play is mine. my characacter, george, wants nothing more than to be an architect. but lately he's been not so happy. his wife says she loves him. he says "yeah, me, the celebrated architect: frank lloyd wrong!"
i think it's hilariously bad. or maybe its just because it makes me recall when my friend's credit card was stolen by a co-worker. this co-worker went shopping for clothes at A.J. Wright. so we said "oh, hell no, that's A.J. Wrong."
anyway.