I was standing outside my workplace, smoking. I notice a few people heading back inside. "Joe's having a rehearsal," they said. Joe came to my staged reading, so I felt obliged, and, you know, I like watching rehearsals anyhow, when I can get away with it.

I heard you had a thing tonight," I said, in a statement that encapsulated absolutely everything I knew about the project.

Joe nodded, and he asked "Are you free tomorrow?" I told him I was working, but I could try, I could try really hard to ask off. And he said, "You do improv, don't you?" I replied, with earned reluctance, "It's been years... I'll sure give it a go, though."

"Great," he said, "I have this idea..." And he went on to prospectively enroll me. We rehearsed for an hour exactly.

Glad Tidings is the name of his group/troupe. It's improv bent toward religious satire. You can't just do improv in Chicago. The city's flooded with it. You have to have a hook.

I spent all of the next day with my nerves shot. No one could cover me, but I was almost on a stage. I am not disappointed. Nothing ventured, as they say.

Speaking of that phrase, I have an update on 8 Across. It's won nothing except the admiration of a few close friends. I still stand by what I said before. The good things and the bad things. It's the best film I could have made in forty-eight hours on a budget of zero dollars and zero cents. We still see the entire venture as an excuse to pool our skills and keep them pooled. As of right now I have more creative projects than I know what to do with. And I hope it stays that way. I am deeply, embarassingly in love with everyone I've worked with as of yet.