In continuation of using my unique living space to host a variety of events, I had my first Night of Comedy! on Friday. I invited three improv groups to perform over a two-hour span. Was great fun, both the actual performances and the socializing pre and post. Witnessed lots of contact info being exchanged, which always makes me happy.
Two weird things –
1. My bedroom being used as a Green Room
2. Someone cleaned my house during the event and I don’t know who. Or what they think of me. I had a very busy afternoon – was at Soldier Field until 6pm, serving as a judge for the City of Chicago’s Junior Citizens Scholarship – so didn’t get home until 6:45 and people started to arrive at 7. I wasn’t able to do my usual pre-hosting routine, which includes cleaning. Luckily the downstairs was in fair shape. My bedroom and upstairs bathroom though were in need of some 409. I thought oh well, no one’s really going to be hanging out up there, if at all, and so left them. The sink had a nauseating amount of my hair all over it, the dust bunnies under the bed were thick, and a coat of dust lay over most everything. When I went upstairs at the end of the night, the sink was spotless and Kleenex filled with my hair lay in the garbage can. Was someone so disgusted by my personal hygiene, or lack thereof, that they couldn’t use the facilities without a scrub down? Or were they just trying to be helpful, not wanting other more judgmental people to discover my dark side, and thus thought they were doing me a favor by wiping down the sink? I had mixed emotions. Yea for a clean sink; boo for someone thinking I’m a dirty pig.