magic_fratboy

If it's possible for hair to ache, I think mine does. The human body ain't built to bend this way.

And I still got a show to do tonight. Here's a tip, folks: it's easy to be a happy guy when you get to play a villain onstage twice a night, five nights a week. That goes double when you spend four hours tied up in a torture device Effie calls a posture bar.

For the record, though, still crazy 'bout my partner. ;)

You Are Powerful and Hard Working

You're the type of person who can sit all day working on a long and arduous project. You are determined to be successful, and quitting is never an option for you. You give a first impression of being a workaholic. This is true, but unlike most workaholics, you have a healthy relationship with your work. You are an armchair businessperson. You know a lot about running organizations, and you're never afraid to say how you think things should be done.

In other news, today for my birthday I got a card from my little bunny (with a hand from Zee in picking it out and signing it), a dead rat from Kel and Hardy, a dead lizard from Prometheus, a lick and a promise for tonight from Zee (I'm afraid in a really good way), a few renditions of the birthday song (best came from my homegirl Molly, thanks babe!), and a cheesecake with candles at lunch during rehearsal today.

Still dealing with being thirty two. Still grateful for it.

Anyway, I got the show in little over an hour and a package from Sassy I'm scared to open. She buys expensive toys that just...yeah. Anyway, I'll check in later. Gonna go clubbing to celebrate with the cast and some friends, and I know Channing's up to no good, so if you wanna see me humiliated you can buy tickets to the 10:00 show.

Real busy this afternoon working on some stuff for the show tonight, but I'm out on lunch and I just felt like...I dunno. Like I oughta say something. Probably 'cause Zee's been shook up about some of it and we got to talking. Trading stories and whatnot. There's a lot of that going on today. I know it's kinda freaky for me and Zee, even Channing: her mom was almost there at the Towers eight years ago when they fell.

Obviously, we can't ever forget what happened, none of us should. But I think we need to choose what we remember. Like me...I was twenty three or twenty four when it happened, and living in LA. I got family that lives in New York, and I can only thank God none of 'em were working in the Towers...at least not that day. Like Chan, I find myself thinking about what could've been.

I don't like to think about that. The fear, the helplessness...that's not what I choose to remember.

I remember darkness, and the light that shone through it. I remember a group of humans with the kind of courage and strength my people only wish they could instill in a soul. Flight 93 is what I remember. I pray for those who died in the attacks, I mourn the losses we all suffered...but when I look back on that day in my mind and in my heart? I forget the shadows of evil that tried to find a foothold.

I remember three outta four. I remember who's still standing: us, not them...and I remember the people who helped make that happen.

Never forget...that we're still here. Never forget that.

So I'm home from the show and the aftermath. Every night now, Chan and I are doing up to half an hour in autographs when we leave the theater after each performance, it's kind of nuts. It's a good sorta nuts, though. I'm kinda wearing myself out, and the buzz I get from the people who see us...

If any of you read this journal, you're all fucking amazing. Thank you for being there.

Anyway, it was a good night, but then I came home to a shocking discovery. My fiancee...the woman I love...is sleeping with my best friend.

Take a look.

( Shocking rev-fur-lations beneath the cut... )

Anyway, now I'm in bed with the offenders and my insomniac daughter, who's curled up next to Prom at the foot of the bed and playing with her teddy bear. I have a Diet Dr. Pepper, I have some leftover chicken from dinner, my laptop, and some episodes of PSYCH on the TiVo...I promised Channing I'd watch. So I'm gonna eat, veg, and cram a little family time in there before I'm completely useless.

Life is good.

((OOC NOTE: picture is courtesy of Criss Angel through his Twitter. :p))

Reason #47 why I love days off: finally got the chance to put the new Alice in Chains single on my iPod.

This shit's so good I can hardly stand it, and once again I find myself wishing Layne was around to sing it. I'm gonna see if Zee can work her contacts to get me an advance copy of the CD.

Now where the hell's my fiancee? For that matter, where the hell's my daughter and my animals?

...crap, gotta go. Zee just yelled: May's WALKING.

So...tomorrow's the big night.

I've had no chance to prepare for this escape beyond some basic training. Chopper's supposed to pull me out, so I worked a little on boarding one in flight, and I've been killing myself learning to escape the way I used to: without magic. My power won't save me in this, my people can't help me.

I got one thing going for me, and I can't talk about my secret weapon 'cause they'll find it if I do.

Send me some good vibes, people, I'm gonna need 'em. If I make it, it's because of you, and if I don't? To some of you, I'm sorry.

To the rest...if it's in my power, I'll see you next lifetime. I swear it.

Wish me luck.

So I'm in Pioche and it's fucking freezing out. Drove up with Zee and the squirt in an RV, we're parked a couple miles from the jail. It's all tricked out, really cool...Chan hooked me up through the hotel. May's asleep, and Zee's stretched out on the couch talking to Sal on the phone about something...

I love the domesticity of it all.

Anyway, I'm taking a five minute eye strain break, 'cause making keys is killing my fingers. I finished my tour of the jail tonight...and yes, I rigged things for tomorrow's escape. I won't say what, and I won't talk about the key. I f-locked this entry, but some of you are coming and I want you to be surprised.

The show tomorrow's gonna work like this: first, it's being taped. Some of it, anyway. Fillmore, Chan's stage manager, will be taking some shots on his little digital camcorder, and there's gonna be a camera in the cell with me to document the escape...Sassy, shut up. It's gonna start with me doing a quickie close up routine, then an escape before the escape. Chan found me a "crazy bed," an asylum cot that was the precursor to the straightjacket. I'm busting outta that, doing a little talk on Houdini, and then I'll be locked up for the main event.

...shit, May's crying and Zee's waving at me. Gotta go, guys...I'll post tomorrow after the show. Wish me luck!

Especially in my little girl. Though I gotta admit...I think May handled the shots better than I did.

Translation: just did the two-month check up before I head into work. May's in perfect health, and ahead of the curve developmentally. She's holding her head up real well, and growing like a damn weed. Her hand-eye coordination's really great, doc says her eyes and hearing are perfect and just to watch her in case she reacts to the shots...which, I might add, she handled like a pro. She barely whimpered. Like I said, I was a bigger wreck than she was.

She also stuck her tongue out at me. Twice. No shit, I had her out of her carrier in the waiting room and in the office, and twice she just let it hang out while I had her up in my arms. Guess she figured Daddy needed some cheering up.

Anyway, I'm at my parents', May's getting a magic show from her Pappou, and her Yiayai is trying to rush me out the door. I'm gonna be at the Mirage all day, work on the show and probably hanging around to bug a few people out. If you're around and available? C'mon down and see me, check the place out. You won't be sorry.

So, for those of you who've been wondering why I got so quiet...I'm alive, I'm well, I'm just still in Vegas.

The anniversary party was a hit, and my folks got back from Cancun a couple days ago. The vacation my dad booked was for five days, 'cause Mom won't leave town for much longer than that. She's a podiatrist with a practice, and did I mention she's really uptight?

Anyway, a pipe blew in my office building at work, so we're all working from home for about three weeks to fix the damage...apparently it was some serious shit. So I'm still in town, and I'm actually getting work while I'm here.

See, my girl's a DJ, but she's opening her own club...and now I think she's considering getting into talent management. There's this band out here, kick ass heavy metal group called Control Freak? She's got a bug up her ass about 'em, and with good reason: these dudes can shred. Anyway, they've been getting some offers but they got no representation. So, Zee's giving 'em a hand.

Anyhow, their lead singer, Toca Vieri (Dog? This guy could be your twin brother) is thinking about doing his memoirs, and I guess Zee helped him do the layout for a potential cover. Zee showed me the design, and I think it's got some real potential. I'm doing some color corrections gratis, and talking to a few printers I know in LA that might wanna take on the project if he does this on his own? But Zee's convinced she can get a publisher to take him on, and she's dead sure these dudes can score a record deal. I, for one, agree with her.

So that's the long and short of it...and while I'm here? A few out of town pics for all of you...

( Vacation Pics...you know you love em... )

I just picked my cuz up from the airport. He's in town to shoot the escape on Friday...for free, 'cause he's awesome like that.

Furthermore? He's a jackhole and insists on crashing at a hotel, but I'm gonna forgive him 'cause he's taking the family out tonight. That's right, Zee, we're going out tonight to celebrate.

And the rest of you? You heard me right: the family. Boney, me, Zee...and Baby Karras.

Zee's pregnant. We're having a baby!!!