I haven't forgotten to update you about the new bathroom. I've been desperately hoping that I might do it, happily, at the natural conclusion of the project but, as far as I'm concerned, that time line has been and gone. So, at 3 a.m., woken by angry renovation dreams, I bring you the brief tale in playbill format...
- Act One opens with the musings of a silly, naive girl who's excited by the idea that she might soon have - if she spends all kinds of borrowed money - a new bathroom to love.
- Act Two climaxes with the duet (sung by our protagonist and her world-weary mother, formerly an interior designer), Six Weeks Is How Long it Takes (Before You Want To Hurt Somone)
- Third Act Tear Jerker: For Someone So Vain, Where's My (Custom) Vanity
I suppose I should be grateful, you're the only thing complete.
And I do love your efficiency, your designer lidded seat.
But fuck, if I'm not miserable at this specific junction.
You shouldn't be the only thing in the entire room to function.
My daughter, recent graduate of Triple Threat summer camp, will star in this little stage mother vehicle, whether she wants to or not.
Oh, and the costumes: freakin' awesome.