999

My feet are touching the bed where I should be sleeping. I don't want to let go of this day. I wonder if the entire earth was waiting for this day...for the 666 to be turned upside down.

Today, my health insurance company called. It wasn't to tell me some claim had been denied. In fact, it was to tell me that my wallet had been found. I hope they don't charge me $2500 for this service. I called the woman who found it and she came with her grandson, as our guest, to the first show of the day. We nailed every act. We got our second standing ovation. We are two for two.

Obama gave his health care address and I didn't get to hear it, but if it goes how the rest of the day went, tomorrow I'll get up and have a full body ex-ray. I need it. I'm dying to know what's going on in there. Hell, throw in an MRI. They will be like, “there's some serious shit going on between your toes”. Then I'll ask how much it costs and they will say “It costs nothing.”

Did you think this would be about circus? There is nothing to say about circus. Circus is just the back drop to my metaphors and adventures. Circus is just the excuse. Fun is the reason, and I'm fucking having it! Here, I'll talk about circus...

“My toes hurt.”
“My back hurts.”
“I need a massage or something.”
“My eyeliner is killing my eyes.”
“Do you have my glitter?”

See, circus talk is freaking boring. What would you rather hear about...how my rope act really ripped my toes apart, or how me, Elena and Emily stayed up until 5AM playing “never have I ever”, putting on facial masques and getting wasted from beer, whiskey AND white wine? See, I thought so.



What other good stuff happened today? OH! Chase forgot to cancel my debit card when it was lost, so when the woman returned my wallet, my card still worked. (Good thing she was the sweetest woman on the planet.) I hung out at Whole Foods and ate delicious varieties of raw fish. Many people gave us care packages and fruit baskets. We rocked all our shows.

We rocked them so hard. We nailed every trick, I barely screwed the music up at all, we got a 3rd standing “O” and actually made lots of money! Here is how we are different from you...when we make $300/week, we think we are rich. Loaded. We blow it on buffalo burgers and Jack Daniels.

We played 4-square. I bought a 4-square ball—from Jamba Juice, of all bizarre places—and some chalk from the Office Max next door, and as Helena grilled some sweet burgers I drew out those beautiful chalk-lines...I couldn't wait to play. I LOVE to play 4 square. I can't even explain how much I love 4-square. I love diving for the ball and skinning my elbow. I love spiking the shit out of the ball. I love playing in the dark, in the back of a strip mall by the dumpsters, smelling raw meat slowly turning delicious. I stared with annoyance as everyone ate, utterly shocked that they would put food before 4-square. Cameron ate slowest and I tried to estimate the bites left on her burger. As soon as the last bit went into her mouth I dragged her out back by the shirt collar. Our fourth player, our ringmaster. Game freaking on, damn-it. Go 9/9/9!