I'm reading Frankenstein right now, and it's making me want to tear my hair out by the roots. By the roots, people. I am not in the least bit entertained. Dracula, I understand. I comprehend. I love.
Mary Shelley makes me want to hurt myself. I am against verbosity!
Also: he is supposedly coming to see the show on Monday night, along with his parents. I doubt he'll show, honestly.
Also also: have given my phone number to four complete strangers in the past week. (My brother's girlfriend's uncle, two people that my dad's co-worker knows, and a guy in the audience last night. He asked!)