Meeting with the Lovely Career Counselor Today...

...in preparation for which I have tidied up three different versions of my resume (admin; managing editorial; copywriting), gone through my Facebook and Linked In contacts trying to see if I know anyone local who has, like, employment and might recommend me (yes, I've already talked to a couple of you good folks), and updated my Linked In resume.

Now I want to take a long bath and read something fluffy. Instead I'm going to take the Poor Crippled Dog downstairs to play with her squeaky toy in the garage; then I'm going to meet the LCC (lovely career counselor), and then, in proud consciousness of a day spent doing things I don't love, I get to go have dinner with mme_hardy and oyceter, and then we get to go see Hugh Jackman do show tunes. And dance. So there.

Hugh Jackman Has Too Much Fun

He poked fun at his own sex-symbol status. He had a wardrobe malfunction (split his pants) and changed on stage. He sang his heart out, danced, shook everything his mamma gave him, had digeridoo (sp?) players on stage for one number, channelled Peter Allen deliciously, and had a terrific time. There was a seven year old girl named Amelia in the front row and he talked with her throughout the show. He got a guy up from the audience to dance with the backup singers (and sat with the guy's wife to watch--made her evening, I'm sure).

Jackman had a wonderful time. As near as I can tell, so did everyone else in the audience.