Is it acceptable to watch an episode of 'Elimidate' simply because it takes place in Chicago?

Barely. Just barely.

Remember that part in 'Star Trek IV: Save the Whales' where the morbidly obese Scotty ("The shields cannae take much more o' this, Cap'n!" ... you know, that guy) tries to operate a primitive 20th century computer by picking up the mouse and cheerfully and optimistically saying to it "Hello, computer! Computer, hello?"

That's pretty much what I'm doing to my phone right now, except with less Scottish body fat and more American neuroses.

I went to the IO last night to do the little Monday night show, the Lottery. It went pretty well, lots of stops and starts, nothing super stellar but nothing horrid either. I was happy with what I did. We were supposed to get notes a half hour afterward from a coach, but my ride wanted to go, so I went to tell her that I had to split. She told me "You did great, you did lots of good stuff up there."

That was all very good to hear, as I recognized her as one of the people who conducted the audition yesterday. So, my GoodCheer-o-meter was moving upwards.

Then I ran into someone else who auditioned yesterday, who asked me if I got a callback (an invitation to the next round of auditions) yet. He said that he had, expressed surprise that I hadn't, and graciously told me that I was better than he was and would definitely get a callback.

Sonuvagoddamnmutherfucker. Nice guy, though, with the 'better than him' comment.

I'll cling to the rumor I heard last night from someone that works in the office that the guy who calls had a personal emergency and had to leave early, and thus couldn't call everyone.

So, if I don't get the call, here's the breakdown for the next week or so: A healthy mix of depression and incredulous anger, medicated with women, liquor and ice cream in varying combinations. After that stage, I'll begin to wax philosophical about the whole thing, employing that old standby 'Things happen for a reason' and reminding myself that Michael Jordan didn't make the cut the first time he tried out for his highschool basketball team. Finally, I will turn in frustration to politics, rise to despotic power, and wage war against the world that rejected me.

Your role in all this will be polite smiling and nodding as I attempt to plow through this emotional crisis in at least one entry, maybe six.

On the other hand, my phone could still ring today, and all would be well.

Fingers crossed.