I am almost ashamed to say it, but I have favorites among my pets.
Granted, they take turns most often, since one or two of them are usually bugging the crap out of me... but I have my baby... who ironically was never supposed to be part of our 'pride'.
Those that know the story know that I ended up with a pregnant mama cat and a daughter begging to keep one of the litter. Thinking I knew a bit about genetics, I promised her we'd keep the white one. He was the last one born in a litter of four... his brothers and sisters were black or mottled. He was pure white, with crystal blue eyes. A genetic freak. And a Mama's Boy.
He is Spartacus.
OR... as I refer to him (in my kitten voice) 'Sparkle-Berry Brown'. (His gay stage name.)
He is a titled cat. He is the Prince of Precious, the Earl of Snuggles, and the Marquis of Muffins.
Often, I like to just watch him... as he investigates the best spot in the room to take a nap or takes great pains to wash his face. He is the kind of cat who starts to purr before you even touch him, but will run if I have ear drops anywhere in arms' reach. He seems to know intent, if that's possible. (Which, for animals, I think it is.)
As I watched him drool while kneading a pillow, it struck me that cats... or any animal, really... need no permission to pursue their own happiness. They just do. Whether it's chasing flies or napping in the sunny spot, animals need no excuse... no justification for what they do. It is understood. They simply choose to 'be'.
As humans, we are not guaranteed the unalienable right to happiness itself. We are guaranteed the right to 'pursue' happiness. (Within certain legal and socially acceptable parameters, of course.)
And yet, I'm struck by how incorrect that may be. By simply being given the free will to 'pursue' happiness, aren't we already guaranteed that it's available to us?
Here's where I'm going with this...
It's a choice.
To 'pursue'... is a choice. To be happy is a choice. To be angry is a choice. In the end, any decision stems from the same vessel.
I hear both sides of the coin from those who don't believe they deserve to be happy... and those who believe that they are entitled to happiness. I believe it's neither. And both. It's a choice. Neither is something that comes from any external force. It is solely and completely 100% internal.
I've lived most of my life as a reactionary person. Happy because something caused me to be happy or angry because someone or something made me so... But where I find peace nowadays is in simply choosing to be happy. Not for any reason other than just to 'be'. Not only does it put the responsibility back on me, but it removes the ability of anyone/anything else to alter my 'state of being'.
I don't think my pampered gay cat ever questions whether he deserves to be happy or whether he needs to be angry... I think he just 'is'... and that seems like a very unapologetic, peaceful existence to me. It just feels right.
There is hope in this world. There is peace. There is happiness. There is love.
I do believe in Gandhi's observation that we have to be the change we want to see in the world.
Not because we are entitled or deserving, but because it is part of the fundamental purpose of being. We are responsible for our own actions and reactions. We are responsible for our own pursuits. Responsible for our own anger. And our own happiness.
And on that note, I leave some words from Osho:
"Take hold of your own life.
See that the whole existence is celebrating.
These trees are not serious, these birds are not serious.
The rivers and the oceans are wild,
and everywhere there is fun,
everywhere there is joy and delight.
Watch existence,
listen to the existence and become part of it."
— Osho
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Welcome to the Neighborhood!
Well, we're moved!
I vaguely remember an epic 24-hour packing session followed by two days of moving, a day of cleaning (all while teaching full-time during the day) and another 24-hours full of "Where's my... ?" and "Have you seen the box with the...?"
I was teaching the teen Shakespeare workshop with PT's Summer Camp program that week, and admittedly, I did not expect the kids to be so dang good! I let them design their own program for the final performance on Friday and they chose 'Death by Shakespeare' which was a montage of 6 scenes depicting epic Shakespearean deaths. Romeo and Juliet, Caesar, the MacDuff family, Desdemona, etc. My introduction did not appropriately prepare the parents and other students for what they were about to see... and so a performance that had begun with adorable little 7-year-olds singing and dancing to Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious ended with Titus and Lavinia slitting the throats of her tormentors followed by the double suicide of Romeo and Juliet.
In retrospect, I should have pushed for the vignettes from Midsummer...
This week has proven to be more family-friendly as we've dumped the heavy content of Shakespeare and taken on 'Mastering the Monologue' and audition prep. I've got an extremely talented and enthusiastic group of 20 kids workin' their tails off when they could be on their couches sleeping, watching TV or playing video games; so I respect them all for being there every day.
In other news, the Jeep waited until the last load of goods had been delivered to the new place and promptly decided that it didn't want to start again. It has done the same thing before... and has responded at times to jumpstarting... and last Memorial Day, after my step-dad assisted in taking out the starter to have it checked, the thing started back up just fine. I just don't know what to make of it. Could be that the neutral safety switch is gummed up. Could be electrical. Could be my solenoid. I just don't know.
So... I'm hoping to have it towed to the house today.
Thankfully, my mom loaned me her Prius, so that has been getting me to and from work every day until I can get The Beast back up and running.
Luckily, I'm in the glamorous part of Mesa that is just a stone's throw from a bunch of mechanic shops... and I suspect that at least one of the three drunks who live across the street is handy with a socket set on a vehicle.
I went to the nearest Wal-Mart with Jason and as soon as we walked in, he broke out the Che... "Oh what a circus, oh what a show!..."
Oh yes... downtown Mesa has all the adventure and excitement of downtown Phoenix... but without the culture, food and arts. (And I don't mean ALL of Mesa... it does have it's venues and restaurants... but my little corner is pretty desolate except for the Bookman's and the Atomic Comics.)
The commute into Phoenix is shorter by a good chunk and the commute to Chandler is a short jaunt at best, so I'm happy with the location. Now I just have to start making the new place look and feel like 'home'... which isn't helped by the stacks of boxes waiting their rightful places in storage or unpacked in one of the rooms.
Meh... I'll get to the rest of it this weekend... in addition to tinkering with the Jeep.
In the meantime, I've got a class to teach and a show to put on!
I vaguely remember an epic 24-hour packing session followed by two days of moving, a day of cleaning (all while teaching full-time during the day) and another 24-hours full of "Where's my... ?" and "Have you seen the box with the...?"
I was teaching the teen Shakespeare workshop with PT's Summer Camp program that week, and admittedly, I did not expect the kids to be so dang good! I let them design their own program for the final performance on Friday and they chose 'Death by Shakespeare' which was a montage of 6 scenes depicting epic Shakespearean deaths. Romeo and Juliet, Caesar, the MacDuff family, Desdemona, etc. My introduction did not appropriately prepare the parents and other students for what they were about to see... and so a performance that had begun with adorable little 7-year-olds singing and dancing to Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious ended with Titus and Lavinia slitting the throats of her tormentors followed by the double suicide of Romeo and Juliet.
In retrospect, I should have pushed for the vignettes from Midsummer...
This week has proven to be more family-friendly as we've dumped the heavy content of Shakespeare and taken on 'Mastering the Monologue' and audition prep. I've got an extremely talented and enthusiastic group of 20 kids workin' their tails off when they could be on their couches sleeping, watching TV or playing video games; so I respect them all for being there every day.
In other news, the Jeep waited until the last load of goods had been delivered to the new place and promptly decided that it didn't want to start again. It has done the same thing before... and has responded at times to jumpstarting... and last Memorial Day, after my step-dad assisted in taking out the starter to have it checked, the thing started back up just fine. I just don't know what to make of it. Could be that the neutral safety switch is gummed up. Could be electrical. Could be my solenoid. I just don't know.
So... I'm hoping to have it towed to the house today.
Thankfully, my mom loaned me her Prius, so that has been getting me to and from work every day until I can get The Beast back up and running.
Luckily, I'm in the glamorous part of Mesa that is just a stone's throw from a bunch of mechanic shops... and I suspect that at least one of the three drunks who live across the street is handy with a socket set on a vehicle.
I went to the nearest Wal-Mart with Jason and as soon as we walked in, he broke out the Che... "Oh what a circus, oh what a show!..."
Oh yes... downtown Mesa has all the adventure and excitement of downtown Phoenix... but without the culture, food and arts. (And I don't mean ALL of Mesa... it does have it's venues and restaurants... but my little corner is pretty desolate except for the Bookman's and the Atomic Comics.)
The commute into Phoenix is shorter by a good chunk and the commute to Chandler is a short jaunt at best, so I'm happy with the location. Now I just have to start making the new place look and feel like 'home'... which isn't helped by the stacks of boxes waiting their rightful places in storage or unpacked in one of the rooms.
Meh... I'll get to the rest of it this weekend... in addition to tinkering with the Jeep.
In the meantime, I've got a class to teach and a show to put on!
Monday, June 6, 2011
OMG. Srsly? WTF? FML...FTW.
Camp starts tomorrow.
What is camp, you ask? Phoenix Theatre's youth summer camp.
This week, I'll be teaching about 20 teens how to read, interpret and perform Shakespeare. (We hope.)
That's where I'll be from 8-5 each day... with my evenings spent frantically packing up for the big move. Yup. Moving day is Thursday. Final walk-thru of the old place is Friday.
Can we say overwhelmed?
I'm both excited and nervous for camp this week. Excited because I get to immerse myself in The Bard once again. Nervous because the whole thing culminates in a performance on Friday... and four days is not a lot of time for some of his loftier offerings.
In the meantime, I've had 'Movin' Right Along' (as sung by Kermit and Fozzie) running on a continuous loop in my head each time another box gets packed. Which also tells me that I need to have my Pandora more readily available while I'm working.
I have no idea how we're going to make it all happen. Movers are being hired (it's not like I have the luxury of time to make multiple trips or load it all up with the help of my dearest friends)... and we're talking a 4-bedroom house with multiple large furniture sets. Now, I'm a buff li'l scrapper, but I honestly don't want to put my poor old body through that. And there's no way I could do it all in the span of an evening after work. So... movers it is. Hallelujah.
But that doesn't change the fact that I still have to clean out the old place (and shampoo the carpets) as well as try to get the new place in at least functional order before I leave the kids to fend for themselves all day without me (which really just means making sure the TV/cable/Playstation is hooked up).
OMG. I just realized how boring and... *gasp* responsible this blog sounds. As if I'm a grown-up who is bound by agendas and schedules and obligations.
Ew!!
Okay, well on that note, I'm gonna go chug a forty and pass out in the living room with my band and the two homies we met at the Circle K.
Not really. I'm gonna brush my teeth and scoot the dog off of my side of the bed and crash like the old fart I am.
Hoping that by the end of the week, we'll all be happy campers!
What is camp, you ask? Phoenix Theatre's youth summer camp.
This week, I'll be teaching about 20 teens how to read, interpret and perform Shakespeare. (We hope.)
That's where I'll be from 8-5 each day... with my evenings spent frantically packing up for the big move. Yup. Moving day is Thursday. Final walk-thru of the old place is Friday.
Can we say overwhelmed?
I'm both excited and nervous for camp this week. Excited because I get to immerse myself in The Bard once again. Nervous because the whole thing culminates in a performance on Friday... and four days is not a lot of time for some of his loftier offerings.
In the meantime, I've had 'Movin' Right Along' (as sung by Kermit and Fozzie) running on a continuous loop in my head each time another box gets packed. Which also tells me that I need to have my Pandora more readily available while I'm working.
I have no idea how we're going to make it all happen. Movers are being hired (it's not like I have the luxury of time to make multiple trips or load it all up with the help of my dearest friends)... and we're talking a 4-bedroom house with multiple large furniture sets. Now, I'm a buff li'l scrapper, but I honestly don't want to put my poor old body through that. And there's no way I could do it all in the span of an evening after work. So... movers it is. Hallelujah.
But that doesn't change the fact that I still have to clean out the old place (and shampoo the carpets) as well as try to get the new place in at least functional order before I leave the kids to fend for themselves all day without me (which really just means making sure the TV/cable/Playstation is hooked up).
OMG. I just realized how boring and... *gasp* responsible this blog sounds. As if I'm a grown-up who is bound by agendas and schedules and obligations.
Ew!!
Okay, well on that note, I'm gonna go chug a forty and pass out in the living room with my band and the two homies we met at the Circle K.
Not really. I'm gonna brush my teeth and scoot the dog off of my side of the bed and crash like the old fart I am.
Hoping that by the end of the week, we'll all be happy campers!
Sunday, May 29, 2011
Oh, those summer nights...
It finally happened. I woke up with that sticky feeling. The underside of my hair and back of my neck were slightly damp with sweat. The dreaded summer.
I've been able to exist for the past two weeks with just the comfort of my ceiling and box fans; and the nights are cool enough that I can leave the patio door open. Well, not any more.
Goodbye low electric bills.
Goodbye fresh air flowing through my house, thus reducing my claustrophobia.
Goodbye aromas of blossoming orange trees and neighbors grilling.
The children have finals this week and end their school year on Wednesday. Which also means that I will officially be the parent of a Junior and Senior in High School.
(Cue montage from every coming-of-age movie ever made and cut to shot of me sobbing on the couch - with a glass of wine in one hand, anti-aging brochure in the other hand and baby books on my lap.)
(Fade to black for transition and standby cue for 'Midlife Crisis'.)
I have promised to spend a good portion of the summer concentrating on defensive driving with the children so that they can get their licenses by the time my girl turns 16 in August.
(Cut to same shot on the couch, but wine has been replaced with hard liquor.)
So... this week, I pack my little heart out and hopefully organize everything into what will stay, what will go, and what we'll attempt to sell in a yard sale next weekend. Next Monday is the first week of summer camp, which means I'll be up at 7am every morning to teach Shakespeare to teens. Somehow on Tuesday and Wednesday, I'm also going to move all my crap from one house to the other - cue frantic phone call to bonded/insured moving companies - and establish my new home (for at least the next year).
I'll be teaching during the day and moving/unpacking in the evening... and probably passed out like a lousy drunk at night.
I feel for the kids, if only because I know they'll be saddled with chores and tasks and menial labor for the first couple weeks of their summer break. Picking up mom's slack. That's gonna suck for them.
Then I'll take them out in the Jeep and let them drive. Oh Lord, that's gonna suck for me.
Just thinking about it gives me heart palpitations and sets me on track to hyperventilate.
I'm feeling restless. Packing feels like purgatory. Knowing there's a D-Day just makes me wish it were here already so I can face it head-on with the energy I have now. I fear that the week will sap me and leave me unprepared for the physical and emotional tasks at hand. I'd love to just snap my fingers and have everything packed, cleaned, laundered, and ready to go. At least then I could go to the movies or do something frivolous without constantly thinking, "I should be at home, packing and cleaning or doing something productive."
I take solace in the prediction that today's weather will be cooler. I might leave my doors and windows open for one more night in the hopes that the onset of our oppressive summer will be be delayed for an evening or two.
...and here's to hoping that everything goes as smoothly as I've dreamed it out in my head.
... like a 1950's 'Grease' montage with talented, but misdirected children finding an outlet in Shakespeare; laughter at driving attempts that result in stalled or overheated engines; and moving company fellahs that spontaneously break into dance around the truck while singing 'We Go Together' as the entire neighborhood joins in and dances in the street (and I skip around handing out gift baskets of homemade goods while dressed as June Cleaver.)
Okay, so it may not go THAT smoothly... but I'll be content with anything that isn't a total disaster.
Oh, those summer nights.
One, two, three... jump.
I've been able to exist for the past two weeks with just the comfort of my ceiling and box fans; and the nights are cool enough that I can leave the patio door open. Well, not any more.
Goodbye low electric bills.
Goodbye fresh air flowing through my house, thus reducing my claustrophobia.
Goodbye aromas of blossoming orange trees and neighbors grilling.
The children have finals this week and end their school year on Wednesday. Which also means that I will officially be the parent of a Junior and Senior in High School.
(Cue montage from every coming-of-age movie ever made and cut to shot of me sobbing on the couch - with a glass of wine in one hand, anti-aging brochure in the other hand and baby books on my lap.)
(Fade to black for transition and standby cue for 'Midlife Crisis'.)
I have promised to spend a good portion of the summer concentrating on defensive driving with the children so that they can get their licenses by the time my girl turns 16 in August.
(Cut to same shot on the couch, but wine has been replaced with hard liquor.)
So... this week, I pack my little heart out and hopefully organize everything into what will stay, what will go, and what we'll attempt to sell in a yard sale next weekend. Next Monday is the first week of summer camp, which means I'll be up at 7am every morning to teach Shakespeare to teens. Somehow on Tuesday and Wednesday, I'm also going to move all my crap from one house to the other - cue frantic phone call to bonded/insured moving companies - and establish my new home (for at least the next year).
I'll be teaching during the day and moving/unpacking in the evening... and probably passed out like a lousy drunk at night.
I feel for the kids, if only because I know they'll be saddled with chores and tasks and menial labor for the first couple weeks of their summer break. Picking up mom's slack. That's gonna suck for them.
Then I'll take them out in the Jeep and let them drive. Oh Lord, that's gonna suck for me.
Just thinking about it gives me heart palpitations and sets me on track to hyperventilate.
I'm feeling restless. Packing feels like purgatory. Knowing there's a D-Day just makes me wish it were here already so I can face it head-on with the energy I have now. I fear that the week will sap me and leave me unprepared for the physical and emotional tasks at hand. I'd love to just snap my fingers and have everything packed, cleaned, laundered, and ready to go. At least then I could go to the movies or do something frivolous without constantly thinking, "I should be at home, packing and cleaning or doing something productive."
I take solace in the prediction that today's weather will be cooler. I might leave my doors and windows open for one more night in the hopes that the onset of our oppressive summer will be be delayed for an evening or two.
...and here's to hoping that everything goes as smoothly as I've dreamed it out in my head.
... like a 1950's 'Grease' montage with talented, but misdirected children finding an outlet in Shakespeare; laughter at driving attempts that result in stalled or overheated engines; and moving company fellahs that spontaneously break into dance around the truck while singing 'We Go Together' as the entire neighborhood joins in and dances in the street (and I skip around handing out gift baskets of homemade goods while dressed as June Cleaver.)
Okay, so it may not go THAT smoothly... but I'll be content with anything that isn't a total disaster.
Oh, those summer nights.
One, two, three... jump.
Saturday, May 21, 2011
I can haz crisis?
I think now might be the best time to start scheduling my midlife crisis.
I always hear about men and women with stable and established lives who seem to decide one random morning that everything must change. Careers, relationships, locations, even the clothes they wear and the cars they drive.
The thing is... I don't really have what most would call a 'stable and established' life. I mean, I've always lived in the same state and I have two children who keep me fairly grounded, but I'm a gypsy at heart. And an actor's life is far from what most people would call stable. After a fair amount of drama in my early adulthood, I've managed to relegate it (mostly) to the stage and reform myself from a demanding, cocky diva into an ever-evolving artist with a great appreciation for 'the little things'. Life hands me melons because I've become emotionally dyslexic.
But here's the mastery behind my plan: You see, if I expedite my midlife crisis, I'm not putting it off to those menopausal days where my actions are dictated by hormone-induced psychosis or flights of fancy. I can plan it out methodically and allow my midlife crisis to be fun for everyone! I could sell all of my earthly possessions (and put the sentimental ones in storage - or mom's garage) and take the kids backpacking across Europe to celebrate their High School graduation.
I could take the kids on a cruise and then return to randomly pick a city on a map to relocate to.
I could return to my roots and visit family in Barbados and maybe fall in love with working the plantations. I'm still young enough for manual labor!
I could buy an RV and get a grant to tour the U.S. doing socio-economic and cultural studies of the effects of arts programs (and lack thereof) on inner-city communities.
I could retreat into the jungle and play my own game of 'Lost' meets 'Survivor' meets 'I'm a Celebrity, Get Me Out of Here!'
Or... I could just pack another box, move into the next rental house and hope that I can drum up enough work to pay my bills and fund a few audition excursions within the next year...
I'll probably opt for the latter... since it seems that a crisis would indeed take much more planning than I'm willing to put into it right now. But it sounds like so much fun to just go completely 'whack-a-loon' for a while and live absolutely spontaneously.
This is where a little voice in the back of my head says that it's time to start living vicariously through my children. (Oh God, could you imagine me as a full-blown psycho stagemom? Terrifying!) But I really can't bear the thought for long, since my kids are just starting to get a taste of the freedom and independence that adulthood brings (yet without the responsibility) and to impose myself on their lives in this stage of the game would just be cruel.
(Though if they DO want mom tagging along on a backpacking trip across Europe, I'm SO in!!)
Better that I keep them sheltered from the whack-a-loon for just a while longer... though one could argue that they've already been far too exposed to take it back now.
I suppose the mid-life crisis will have to wait until I grow up a little bit more. And there's no telling how long that's actually going to take.
I must close for now so I can don my pencil skirt, twist up my hair, and dust off my German dialect for a callback. Playing 'pretend' for a living. Yeah... growing up is a long way off.
Fingers and toes crossed, kiddos!
I always hear about men and women with stable and established lives who seem to decide one random morning that everything must change. Careers, relationships, locations, even the clothes they wear and the cars they drive.
The thing is... I don't really have what most would call a 'stable and established' life. I mean, I've always lived in the same state and I have two children who keep me fairly grounded, but I'm a gypsy at heart. And an actor's life is far from what most people would call stable. After a fair amount of drama in my early adulthood, I've managed to relegate it (mostly) to the stage and reform myself from a demanding, cocky diva into an ever-evolving artist with a great appreciation for 'the little things'. Life hands me melons because I've become emotionally dyslexic.
But here's the mastery behind my plan: You see, if I expedite my midlife crisis, I'm not putting it off to those menopausal days where my actions are dictated by hormone-induced psychosis or flights of fancy. I can plan it out methodically and allow my midlife crisis to be fun for everyone! I could sell all of my earthly possessions (and put the sentimental ones in storage - or mom's garage) and take the kids backpacking across Europe to celebrate their High School graduation.
I could take the kids on a cruise and then return to randomly pick a city on a map to relocate to.
I could return to my roots and visit family in Barbados and maybe fall in love with working the plantations. I'm still young enough for manual labor!
I could buy an RV and get a grant to tour the U.S. doing socio-economic and cultural studies of the effects of arts programs (and lack thereof) on inner-city communities.
I could retreat into the jungle and play my own game of 'Lost' meets 'Survivor' meets 'I'm a Celebrity, Get Me Out of Here!'
Or... I could just pack another box, move into the next rental house and hope that I can drum up enough work to pay my bills and fund a few audition excursions within the next year...
I'll probably opt for the latter... since it seems that a crisis would indeed take much more planning than I'm willing to put into it right now. But it sounds like so much fun to just go completely 'whack-a-loon' for a while and live absolutely spontaneously.
This is where a little voice in the back of my head says that it's time to start living vicariously through my children. (Oh God, could you imagine me as a full-blown psycho stagemom? Terrifying!) But I really can't bear the thought for long, since my kids are just starting to get a taste of the freedom and independence that adulthood brings (yet without the responsibility) and to impose myself on their lives in this stage of the game would just be cruel.
(Though if they DO want mom tagging along on a backpacking trip across Europe, I'm SO in!!)
Better that I keep them sheltered from the whack-a-loon for just a while longer... though one could argue that they've already been far too exposed to take it back now.
I suppose the mid-life crisis will have to wait until I grow up a little bit more. And there's no telling how long that's actually going to take.
I must close for now so I can don my pencil skirt, twist up my hair, and dust off my German dialect for a callback. Playing 'pretend' for a living. Yeah... growing up is a long way off.
Fingers and toes crossed, kiddos!
Friday, May 20, 2011
Welcome Home!!
Yeah, I know, I know... I've been home for almost two weeks now.
I haven't even completely unpacked my suitcases or boxes, let alone begun the process of packing up the house to move... I just haven't found the motivation... or the house I'm moving into yet.
Upon my return, I hit two general auditions in town and started the house hunting in earnest, since my lease is up in three weeks and the owners need to try to sell it to get out from under the extra mortgage. Oh housing crisis, thank you for mucking up my perfect rental arrangement!
Concentrating on moving and auditions has been a godsend, really. It has allowed me to temporarily ignore the nagging writer's block and has also given me something to focus on instead of my post-show blues.
The show's over, Boo.
This weekend holds callbacks for 'Boeing Boeing' and '9 to 5' as well as appointments to see a few rental homes, catch-up with friends and family. I'm also working on my curriculum for the workshops I'm teaching in June.
That's right... I will be influencing the minds of 14-18 year olds. My plan for world domination is finally being realized! I'll be teaching one week of a Shakespeare intensive and one week of 'Mastering the Monologue' as audition prep. I'm very excited!! (But at this point, wholly unprepared.)
I still very much miss my family away from home... and it has felt slightly foreign to be back among my creature comforts. But it has been so wonderful to be back amongst my family and my dear, dear friends... without whom, I probably would have wallowed in depression for at least another week!
There has been plenty of blogworthy news this week, which made me realize that for as much as I 'blog' and 'live out loud' on the net, I'm actually a private person when it comes to the people and events that are truly dear to me.
Both my father and my step-dad faced health issues that came to their surgical conclusions... and both are recovering remarkably well. Several of my immediate family members have battled Cancer in the past few years which, of course, weighs heavily as I think of my own mortality and the relatively short amount of time we exist on this planet. I'm thankful that both of my dads have a ton of feisty years ahead of them.
I missed my babies a ton and still haven't spent enough time with them to make up for being away the past two months... but they only have two more weeks of school before they're off for the summer. I have a feeling we'll be spending a decent amount of time at my mom's... and her pool.
The uncertainty of what I'll actually be doing this season has me a bit restless. But I'm also excited to be getting to auditions outside of AZ... which, I guess, brings me to other blogworthy news...
I'm trying to get work in other states... and am earnestly prospecting out east. Not necessarily New York, though I'd love to work out there and get to see all my friends in the city... maybe I'll hit auditions there eventually, but I'm on the first set of baby-steps. I've lived in AZ all of my life, so there's bound to be some serious separation anxiety. I have a few contacts in Florida and throughout the southeast, so (God and CDs willing) that's probably where I will land within the next year or so.
I don't want to jinx anything, so I'll leave it at that and hope that callbacks go well this weekend and that I can get a few videos edited and submitted in the next few days. Fingers and toes crossed!!
I haven't even completely unpacked my suitcases or boxes, let alone begun the process of packing up the house to move... I just haven't found the motivation... or the house I'm moving into yet.
Upon my return, I hit two general auditions in town and started the house hunting in earnest, since my lease is up in three weeks and the owners need to try to sell it to get out from under the extra mortgage. Oh housing crisis, thank you for mucking up my perfect rental arrangement!
Concentrating on moving and auditions has been a godsend, really. It has allowed me to temporarily ignore the nagging writer's block and has also given me something to focus on instead of my post-show blues.
The show's over, Boo.
This weekend holds callbacks for 'Boeing Boeing' and '9 to 5' as well as appointments to see a few rental homes, catch-up with friends and family. I'm also working on my curriculum for the workshops I'm teaching in June.
That's right... I will be influencing the minds of 14-18 year olds. My plan for world domination is finally being realized! I'll be teaching one week of a Shakespeare intensive and one week of 'Mastering the Monologue' as audition prep. I'm very excited!! (But at this point, wholly unprepared.)
I still very much miss my family away from home... and it has felt slightly foreign to be back among my creature comforts. But it has been so wonderful to be back amongst my family and my dear, dear friends... without whom, I probably would have wallowed in depression for at least another week!
There has been plenty of blogworthy news this week, which made me realize that for as much as I 'blog' and 'live out loud' on the net, I'm actually a private person when it comes to the people and events that are truly dear to me.
Both my father and my step-dad faced health issues that came to their surgical conclusions... and both are recovering remarkably well. Several of my immediate family members have battled Cancer in the past few years which, of course, weighs heavily as I think of my own mortality and the relatively short amount of time we exist on this planet. I'm thankful that both of my dads have a ton of feisty years ahead of them.
I missed my babies a ton and still haven't spent enough time with them to make up for being away the past two months... but they only have two more weeks of school before they're off for the summer. I have a feeling we'll be spending a decent amount of time at my mom's... and her pool.
The uncertainty of what I'll actually be doing this season has me a bit restless. But I'm also excited to be getting to auditions outside of AZ... which, I guess, brings me to other blogworthy news...
I'm trying to get work in other states... and am earnestly prospecting out east. Not necessarily New York, though I'd love to work out there and get to see all my friends in the city... maybe I'll hit auditions there eventually, but I'm on the first set of baby-steps. I've lived in AZ all of my life, so there's bound to be some serious separation anxiety. I have a few contacts in Florida and throughout the southeast, so (God and CDs willing) that's probably where I will land within the next year or so.
I don't want to jinx anything, so I'll leave it at that and hope that callbacks go well this weekend and that I can get a few videos edited and submitted in the next few days. Fingers and toes crossed!!
Monday, May 9, 2011
Adventures In Little Rock: The Final Chapter
I hate goodbyes.
I also hate closing good shows.
Every show, every theatre, every organization has it's own quirks and processes.
Complications like dual directors, no wing space, troublesome sound and tech booth ergonomics only add to the character of a show (in my opinion) and this production of Hairspray was no exception.
I was honored to reprise this role with talented artists that I had worked with in Phoenix, but had no idea the additional number of people that I would come to know and love in my two months here.
The Stage Management team took me under their wing and allowed me to walk the line between actor and crew - finding solace in girlie time with Ann and joy in the disgust on Mary's face when I licked her. Not to mention their nefarious leader, Patrick, who allowed me to vent when I needed and gave me the pimp hand when I was gettin' too big for my britches - even allowing me to adopt his dog as a temporary surrogate for my beloved Roxanne.
Corinne... good, God... what a fun musical director! Equal parts no-nonsense and heart, I loved and respected her instantly... and her wit is only matched by her sarcasm. I didn't get to spend nearly enough time with her.
The cast... was and is simply amazing. From all of my nicest kids: Mary Katelin, Molly, Stacy, Kayte, Kelsie and Christy were always smiling and full of amazing energy. God, these girls made me laugh... I mean REALLY laugh... and made me feel like I was big sister to some amazing young women. And my boys.... my sweet, sweet Kevin, Matt, David and Brendan who NEVER dropped me and in fact lifted me up in more ways than one. And of course, Cory, Michael, Gregory and Antyon... all of whom I will miss so much.
Our girls' dressing room was such a sanctuary. Kim and Iris who are everything I wish I could be as a performer and more - Miss Sandy, who is a hoot and a holler "Happy Biiiirthday" kind of gal, and the beautiful Laura and Katie: Miss Congeniality and Punky Who. What a blast we had with our Pandora pre-show and our random discussions!
Jay and Rick, who never ceased to keep a twinkle in my eye onstage, and LaVon, who arrived grieving the loss of her aunt and grandmother, but who left celebrating a new pregnancy.
And Lillian... my dear, sweet Tracy. No one could ever compare with the remarkable amount of heart in this woman.
I learned a lot in Arkansas.
I learned that tornadoes are scary and will suck the windows right off of a building.
I learned that good people will make up for a world of loneliness and discomfort in a foreign setting.
I learned that you should NEVER stand up your MD when she invites you out for dinner or drinks... and if you do, she will give you a ton of shit.
I learned that hazing young sorority sisters is fun for everyone involved!
I learned that hallway/block party/potlucks are super-awesome and totally exhausting!
I learned that residents of Arkansas are some of the nicest, most supportive people I've ever met.
I learned that there is no substitute for a really good snuggle session.
I learned that it's exactly 12 steps from the stage left wing to the vanity spike at center.
I learned that a good sense of humor goes a long way.
I learned that two months is a hell of a long time to go without seeing or hugging my babies.
I learned that home is truly where you make it... and for the last two months, my home has been pretty damn nice.
A part of me wanted to stay in Arkansas, knowing that there were people staying... it didn't feel right to leave only parts of our family behind as we fractured and separated towards our respective home bases.
My flight into Dallas was delayed by over an hour due to mechanical test difficulties, which resulted in missing my connecting flight. They popped me onto a later flight which also ended up being delayed by over an hour... and I knew that my patience was being tested. I could have stayed in Arkansas another day or I could have been in Arizona... but I did NOT want to be stranded in the purgatory that was Dallas/Ft. Worth for another moment!
I finally landed in Arizona around 6pm and was home sweet home to face my bewildered animals by 6:30. They've been at my heels ever since.
It's good to be home, but I will miss this chapter in the theatre journey. Both for the show and its message as well as the people and their love, talent and energy.
Thank you, Little Rock.
I also hate closing good shows.
Every show, every theatre, every organization has it's own quirks and processes.
Complications like dual directors, no wing space, troublesome sound and tech booth ergonomics only add to the character of a show (in my opinion) and this production of Hairspray was no exception.
I was honored to reprise this role with talented artists that I had worked with in Phoenix, but had no idea the additional number of people that I would come to know and love in my two months here.
The Stage Management team took me under their wing and allowed me to walk the line between actor and crew - finding solace in girlie time with Ann and joy in the disgust on Mary's face when I licked her. Not to mention their nefarious leader, Patrick, who allowed me to vent when I needed and gave me the pimp hand when I was gettin' too big for my britches - even allowing me to adopt his dog as a temporary surrogate for my beloved Roxanne.
Corinne... good, God... what a fun musical director! Equal parts no-nonsense and heart, I loved and respected her instantly... and her wit is only matched by her sarcasm. I didn't get to spend nearly enough time with her.
The cast... was and is simply amazing. From all of my nicest kids: Mary Katelin, Molly, Stacy, Kayte, Kelsie and Christy were always smiling and full of amazing energy. God, these girls made me laugh... I mean REALLY laugh... and made me feel like I was big sister to some amazing young women. And my boys.... my sweet, sweet Kevin, Matt, David and Brendan who NEVER dropped me and in fact lifted me up in more ways than one. And of course, Cory, Michael, Gregory and Antyon... all of whom I will miss so much.
Our girls' dressing room was such a sanctuary. Kim and Iris who are everything I wish I could be as a performer and more - Miss Sandy, who is a hoot and a holler "Happy Biiiirthday" kind of gal, and the beautiful Laura and Katie: Miss Congeniality and Punky Who. What a blast we had with our Pandora pre-show and our random discussions!
Jay and Rick, who never ceased to keep a twinkle in my eye onstage, and LaVon, who arrived grieving the loss of her aunt and grandmother, but who left celebrating a new pregnancy.
And Lillian... my dear, sweet Tracy. No one could ever compare with the remarkable amount of heart in this woman.
I learned a lot in Arkansas.
I learned that tornadoes are scary and will suck the windows right off of a building.
I learned that good people will make up for a world of loneliness and discomfort in a foreign setting.
I learned that you should NEVER stand up your MD when she invites you out for dinner or drinks... and if you do, she will give you a ton of shit.
I learned that hazing young sorority sisters is fun for everyone involved!
I learned that hallway/block party/potlucks are super-awesome and totally exhausting!
I learned that residents of Arkansas are some of the nicest, most supportive people I've ever met.
I learned that there is no substitute for a really good snuggle session.
I learned that it's exactly 12 steps from the stage left wing to the vanity spike at center.
I learned that a good sense of humor goes a long way.
I learned that two months is a hell of a long time to go without seeing or hugging my babies.
I learned that home is truly where you make it... and for the last two months, my home has been pretty damn nice.
A part of me wanted to stay in Arkansas, knowing that there were people staying... it didn't feel right to leave only parts of our family behind as we fractured and separated towards our respective home bases.
My flight into Dallas was delayed by over an hour due to mechanical test difficulties, which resulted in missing my connecting flight. They popped me onto a later flight which also ended up being delayed by over an hour... and I knew that my patience was being tested. I could have stayed in Arkansas another day or I could have been in Arizona... but I did NOT want to be stranded in the purgatory that was Dallas/Ft. Worth for another moment!
I finally landed in Arizona around 6pm and was home sweet home to face my bewildered animals by 6:30. They've been at my heels ever since.
It's good to be home, but I will miss this chapter in the theatre journey. Both for the show and its message as well as the people and their love, talent and energy.
Thank you, Little Rock.
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Adventures In Little Rock: Vol. 5
We ain't in Kansas, Toto... but you'd think we were with all the crazy weather around here!!
As mentioned in a previous post, they test the tornado sirens every Wednesday at noon. (Which leaves me to wonder... what happens if there is ever an actual tornado at noon on a Wednesday?)
On several occasions now, we've heard those sirens going off at night as we hunker down in whatever building we happen to be in while storms rage outside.
And on at least one occasion, I've wanted to run out there and yell,
"Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks! rage! blow!
You cataracts and hurricanoes, spout
Till you have drenched our steeples, drowned the cocks!"
If nothing else, because it's just so perfectly and beautifully dramatic!!
I've decided that I don't mind the weather in Little Rock. I was warned that Mother Nature is bipolar here; and that it can be 90 degrees and sunny one day, frigid and raining the next. That was no lie.
We've had no less than three 'hallway parties' as the residents take refuge during tornado warnings - and have also held an entire audience hostage through a 45-minute intermission. (They've been our best audience to date, in my opinion.) Last night, as I watched three tornado trackers whip through Arkansas, I opted to make crepes. I mean, who ever heard of a cast dying in a tornado while eating crepes? Even if we did perish... I figured the media would have a great story!
I've also decided that the weather suits my fickle nature and makes every day an adventure. Seeing the real-life, close-up damage it can cause still makes me nervous, but I do not miss the hot, stagnant, stifling air of my own hometown when compared to the tranquil breezes of a warm day in Little Rock.
It also reaffirms my belief that I need to relocate somewhere closer to water. I'm a desert rat and don't do well in the snow for long periods of time, but there are plenty of tropical climes that are still accessible. I find myself counting the days 'til the kids are done with High School... ready to set down new roots and travel back to the old ones in between whatever gigs I can land. It's scary... but again, every day is an adventure... and I'm pretty sure I thrive on that kind of existence.
Tomorrow, I will head over to the post office to pick up boxes to ship stuff back home.
I am going to miss this show and this cast, so I don't really want to think about leaving yet... but the reality is that I will only be here for 13 more days... and it is going by very quickly now.
The theatre suffered some damage last night as a result of the storm. Three or four huge glass panels were vacuumed right into the street (blown OUT, not in) and I imagine there was probably water and debris damage, though hopefully only minor. The theatre is being renovated in a couple of months... but it appears that Mama Nature wanted to start early.
And on that note, I need to get my laundry done and prep for tonight's show... in the meantime, I leave you with this poor quality video as a peek into what we do when we're not performing. (We hang in Lillian's room and watch the storms.)
As mentioned in a previous post, they test the tornado sirens every Wednesday at noon. (Which leaves me to wonder... what happens if there is ever an actual tornado at noon on a Wednesday?)
On several occasions now, we've heard those sirens going off at night as we hunker down in whatever building we happen to be in while storms rage outside.
And on at least one occasion, I've wanted to run out there and yell,
"Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks! rage! blow!
You cataracts and hurricanoes, spout
Till you have drenched our steeples, drowned the cocks!"
If nothing else, because it's just so perfectly and beautifully dramatic!!
I've decided that I don't mind the weather in Little Rock. I was warned that Mother Nature is bipolar here; and that it can be 90 degrees and sunny one day, frigid and raining the next. That was no lie.
We've had no less than three 'hallway parties' as the residents take refuge during tornado warnings - and have also held an entire audience hostage through a 45-minute intermission. (They've been our best audience to date, in my opinion.) Last night, as I watched three tornado trackers whip through Arkansas, I opted to make crepes. I mean, who ever heard of a cast dying in a tornado while eating crepes? Even if we did perish... I figured the media would have a great story!
I've also decided that the weather suits my fickle nature and makes every day an adventure. Seeing the real-life, close-up damage it can cause still makes me nervous, but I do not miss the hot, stagnant, stifling air of my own hometown when compared to the tranquil breezes of a warm day in Little Rock.
It also reaffirms my belief that I need to relocate somewhere closer to water. I'm a desert rat and don't do well in the snow for long periods of time, but there are plenty of tropical climes that are still accessible. I find myself counting the days 'til the kids are done with High School... ready to set down new roots and travel back to the old ones in between whatever gigs I can land. It's scary... but again, every day is an adventure... and I'm pretty sure I thrive on that kind of existence.
Tomorrow, I will head over to the post office to pick up boxes to ship stuff back home.
I am going to miss this show and this cast, so I don't really want to think about leaving yet... but the reality is that I will only be here for 13 more days... and it is going by very quickly now.
The theatre suffered some damage last night as a result of the storm. Three or four huge glass panels were vacuumed right into the street (blown OUT, not in) and I imagine there was probably water and debris damage, though hopefully only minor. The theatre is being renovated in a couple of months... but it appears that Mama Nature wanted to start early.
And on that note, I need to get my laundry done and prep for tonight's show... in the meantime, I leave you with this poor quality video as a peek into what we do when we're not performing. (We hang in Lillian's room and watch the storms.)
Sunday, April 17, 2011
Adventures In Little Rock: Vol. 4
Today is a day of double shows and I should be warming up so I have some semblance of a voice for the matinee, but I overslept and feel bad for neglecting my blog so much on this trip.
I have been writing, but most of it has been for what will eventually be an actual, real-life, honest-to-goodness novel... someday. I'm just waiting for the Blue Fairy to appear and tell me 'what' it's supposed to be and how to get it there. But she's an elusive creature and has yet to tap me on the head with her magic wand. So for now... I just write... and rewrite... and edit... and write some more.
Today, one of my best gal pals from Jr. High and High School (Ann) and her husband are driving down to Little Rock to see the show. I haven't seen 'AnnieM' (as I used to call her in my best Judy Garland) since our chance meeting at a gas station one week after we graduated High School. So it has been... oh... 17 years. Holy crap!!
Ann and I bonded in Jr. High when we both found ourselves at the mercy of the same nasty, ugly, red-headed bully. We had known each other from sharing a few classes, but nothing bonds two people like a common enemy. Besides which, Ann was a quiet, unassuming, gentle spirit who wouldn't hurt a fly... so the fact that this girl wanted to 'beat us up' was less threatening and more comical at that point. (But still traumatic to 13 and 14 year olds.)
We both loved 'written word' artistry and the performing arts. She and I would skip and dance down the halls of school singing,
"Three little maids from school are we,
Pert as a school-girl well can be,
Filled to the brim with girlish glee,
Three little maids from school!"
as we discussed the kinds of boys we'd like to marry someday and what kind of houses our husbands would build us. (Yes, I think I actually believed for a time that I'd end up with the kind of husband who would build me a pretty little ranch house somewhere green and woodsy... no picket fence... just acreage.)
Her parents took us on a road trip the summer before our Sophomore year to visit Ann's grandma. We visited the 'Natural Bridge' for some hiking and natural sight-seeing where the cool, clear waters of the creek called to us. We opted to ignore all of the signs posted by the park service and skinny dip anyway. Luckily, we only got into minimal trouble for that one.
Throughout our High School years, we took on different interests. I didn't want to just sing the Mikado, I wanted to be IN it. So, while choir and drama and dance took over my life, Ann delved into tennis and student government. Our paths continued to cross in our mutual Honors classes, and our civilized upbringing and our derelict senses of humor continued to keep our friendship intact.
And so it is... 17 years later... that I ended up in her current state of residence doing a raucous musical.
She and her husband are driving down to Little Rock to see tonight's show after which we will try to catch up on the past (almost) two decades over cocktails or brunch before they drive back home tomorrow.
There's something comforting about knowing that even though I'm far from home... there are elements of home (and my ever distant youth) that are still accessible.
It's also a blessing to know that good friends are always good friends... no matter the time or distance between us.
Today's show will be dedicated to Jr. High bullies and the hopes that they are happier now than they were then.
Tonight's show will be dedicated to the friendships that stand the test of time.
And on that note, I must end this entry to apply some garish blue eyeshadow. :)
Merde!
I have been writing, but most of it has been for what will eventually be an actual, real-life, honest-to-goodness novel... someday. I'm just waiting for the Blue Fairy to appear and tell me 'what' it's supposed to be and how to get it there. But she's an elusive creature and has yet to tap me on the head with her magic wand. So for now... I just write... and rewrite... and edit... and write some more.
Today, one of my best gal pals from Jr. High and High School (Ann) and her husband are driving down to Little Rock to see the show. I haven't seen 'AnnieM' (as I used to call her in my best Judy Garland) since our chance meeting at a gas station one week after we graduated High School. So it has been... oh... 17 years. Holy crap!!
Ann and I bonded in Jr. High when we both found ourselves at the mercy of the same nasty, ugly, red-headed bully. We had known each other from sharing a few classes, but nothing bonds two people like a common enemy. Besides which, Ann was a quiet, unassuming, gentle spirit who wouldn't hurt a fly... so the fact that this girl wanted to 'beat us up' was less threatening and more comical at that point. (But still traumatic to 13 and 14 year olds.)
We both loved 'written word' artistry and the performing arts. She and I would skip and dance down the halls of school singing,
"Three little maids from school are we,
Pert as a school-girl well can be,
Filled to the brim with girlish glee,
Three little maids from school!"
as we discussed the kinds of boys we'd like to marry someday and what kind of houses our husbands would build us. (Yes, I think I actually believed for a time that I'd end up with the kind of husband who would build me a pretty little ranch house somewhere green and woodsy... no picket fence... just acreage.)
Her parents took us on a road trip the summer before our Sophomore year to visit Ann's grandma. We visited the 'Natural Bridge' for some hiking and natural sight-seeing where the cool, clear waters of the creek called to us. We opted to ignore all of the signs posted by the park service and skinny dip anyway. Luckily, we only got into minimal trouble for that one.
Throughout our High School years, we took on different interests. I didn't want to just sing the Mikado, I wanted to be IN it. So, while choir and drama and dance took over my life, Ann delved into tennis and student government. Our paths continued to cross in our mutual Honors classes, and our civilized upbringing and our derelict senses of humor continued to keep our friendship intact.
And so it is... 17 years later... that I ended up in her current state of residence doing a raucous musical.
She and her husband are driving down to Little Rock to see tonight's show after which we will try to catch up on the past (almost) two decades over cocktails or brunch before they drive back home tomorrow.
There's something comforting about knowing that even though I'm far from home... there are elements of home (and my ever distant youth) that are still accessible.
It's also a blessing to know that good friends are always good friends... no matter the time or distance between us.
Today's show will be dedicated to Jr. High bullies and the hopes that they are happier now than they were then.
Tonight's show will be dedicated to the friendships that stand the test of time.
And on that note, I must end this entry to apply some garish blue eyeshadow. :)
Merde!
Friday, April 8, 2011
Adventures In Little Rock: Vol. 3
Okay, so it has been a while since I posted... and I don't have much time, so this will be more of a Reader's Digest Condensed Version. (For those who even know what Reader's Digest is anymore...)
First of all, for those who are curious about my ghost (Steve), he seems to be doing well and sends his good wishes to everyone reading.
Lillian (our Tracy Turnblad) was housed in my apartment while she was here doing Glorious, so she gave me some pointers. Apparently, she set some 'ground rules' that were to be strictly followed (such as the bedroom being her private, sacred space in which he is unwelcome.)
I had a 'conversation' with him that consisted of, "Hey... um... Lils told me all about you, Steve. Um... she also told me that you know the rules, so the same rules apply, and um... I will have no more tomfoolery, OKAY?" (*silence*)
Yes, I felt silly, but it worked. And as long as my bedroom door is shut at night, I'm oblivious to his shenanigans. He does, however, still turn off the light on my ceiling fan and changes my channels when he doesn't approve of my viewing choices. So far I have determined that he prefers the History Channel to RuPaul's Drag Race and if I dare watch any Desperate Housewives (of ANY city), he will find whatever war movie is randomly playing and switch to that. On one occasion, there were obviously no war movies showing and so he chose BBC coverage of the war in Afghanistan instead. Gee, thanks.
My second week here, I got really sick. What I thought were horrible allergies (because I've never really suffered from them and didn't know any better) was actually a sinus and ear infection. I got a steroid shot and some antibiotics and am now feeling 110% better! Except I now actually know what allergies feel like... and they suck. Claritin has been my friend and enabled me to keep some semblance of a voice amidst all the pollen around here.
Arkansas is gorgeous. The weather fluctuates daily and it has been warm and breezy or frigid and pouring every other day, which suits my fickle mood and allows me to dress in layers. I love it!!
Tonight is Opening Night and the show has grown by leaps and bounds throughout tech. The costume crew has worked above and beyond overtime to replace trim, tailor suits, and place insoles in the shoes of all the divas... The entire production crew and staff at The Rep are awesome and truly proud of the product they offer and the artistry inside its walls, which I respect immensely.
I'm proud to be here, proud to be part of an amazing show and have had an uproariously fun journey with all of these beautiful people. And really thrilled to be playing such a fun role!!
I tried to nap in the hopes that I could keep up with the kids at the after-party, but I no sooner laid down than someone upstairs started choreographing 42nd street and rearranging all the heavy furniture while simultaneously my son started texting pics of his wood shop project and the landscapers set up shop outside my open window. Apparently there is MUCH debris to be blown away on my side of the building as they've been by four times now. (And I assure you, I'm fully dressed.) However, it was a bit of a shock to see an all-white landscaping crew with nary a Mexican among them. I caught myself staring. I know, I know, my hometown is showing. :)
And on that note, Happy Opening to the cast and crew. This one is much deserved. Now I'm off to spread my crabs to all the willing participants...
Merde!!
First of all, for those who are curious about my ghost (Steve), he seems to be doing well and sends his good wishes to everyone reading.
Lillian (our Tracy Turnblad) was housed in my apartment while she was here doing Glorious, so she gave me some pointers. Apparently, she set some 'ground rules' that were to be strictly followed (such as the bedroom being her private, sacred space in which he is unwelcome.)
I had a 'conversation' with him that consisted of, "Hey... um... Lils told me all about you, Steve. Um... she also told me that you know the rules, so the same rules apply, and um... I will have no more tomfoolery, OKAY?" (*silence*)
Yes, I felt silly, but it worked. And as long as my bedroom door is shut at night, I'm oblivious to his shenanigans. He does, however, still turn off the light on my ceiling fan and changes my channels when he doesn't approve of my viewing choices. So far I have determined that he prefers the History Channel to RuPaul's Drag Race and if I dare watch any Desperate Housewives (of ANY city), he will find whatever war movie is randomly playing and switch to that. On one occasion, there were obviously no war movies showing and so he chose BBC coverage of the war in Afghanistan instead. Gee, thanks.
My second week here, I got really sick. What I thought were horrible allergies (because I've never really suffered from them and didn't know any better) was actually a sinus and ear infection. I got a steroid shot and some antibiotics and am now feeling 110% better! Except I now actually know what allergies feel like... and they suck. Claritin has been my friend and enabled me to keep some semblance of a voice amidst all the pollen around here.
Arkansas is gorgeous. The weather fluctuates daily and it has been warm and breezy or frigid and pouring every other day, which suits my fickle mood and allows me to dress in layers. I love it!!
Tonight is Opening Night and the show has grown by leaps and bounds throughout tech. The costume crew has worked above and beyond overtime to replace trim, tailor suits, and place insoles in the shoes of all the divas... The entire production crew and staff at The Rep are awesome and truly proud of the product they offer and the artistry inside its walls, which I respect immensely.
I'm proud to be here, proud to be part of an amazing show and have had an uproariously fun journey with all of these beautiful people. And really thrilled to be playing such a fun role!!
I tried to nap in the hopes that I could keep up with the kids at the after-party, but I no sooner laid down than someone upstairs started choreographing 42nd street and rearranging all the heavy furniture while simultaneously my son started texting pics of his wood shop project and the landscapers set up shop outside my open window. Apparently there is MUCH debris to be blown away on my side of the building as they've been by four times now. (And I assure you, I'm fully dressed.) However, it was a bit of a shock to see an all-white landscaping crew with nary a Mexican among them. I caught myself staring. I know, I know, my hometown is showing. :)
And on that note, Happy Opening to the cast and crew. This one is much deserved. Now I'm off to spread my crabs to all the willing participants...
Merde!!
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