News from the Front

Busy, busy, busy.

The show opened last week with scones and tea. (Scones from Alice's Teacup, which we will visit next time you girls come up.) Our company also hosted a company from Toronto, so spent a little time with them on Saturday, seeing their show and drinking beer, before going to see "Die Hard: The Puppet Musical," a show I turned down for various reasons, primarily being that the creator of said show kept messing with my head on a personal dating sort of level and I felt it best to cut ties. So, Saturday was the first time I had seen him in a while. It wasn't as awful as anticipated. And the show was alright. I did have a mild twinge of longing...not for him, but for the show, but it passed when one too many jokes fell flat.

Am I being clear? I feel rambly and wonder about the punctuation and placement of clauses.

Sunday I had my Shakespeare acting class with Joanne Camp, who is my favorite new lady of the stage. When we were trying to work out the time for my private session this week and schedules being crazy and colliding, she said, "I think you are tremendously talented. I'm sorry you have to work so much." I almost cried. Not that crying would be an unusual thing for me. Tears come very easily when I tire.

I don't have a dustpan, and don't go suggesting a manilla folder, because I don't have one of those either, so when the Corona bottle bounced, then exploded all over the kitchen floor, I swept the glass into a pile, then set a chair over it to prevent a bloody mess until I could get a dustpan. It has been five days. I can't remember the ding-dang dustpan.

Last week I had a callback for some little Jane Austen inspired show, where they told my my British dialect was too low class and I should practice by using my hand to squish my mouth together at the front....you know, a'la "language of love" from Better Off Dead. I think they are crazy. No one really talks like that. Silly idea of posh.

I'm gettin' real chubby. It's nice to see Zelda and Kizz continue to post losses. And the Redhead here has started up with the pointing, so being surrounded by it with hopefully start to kick my butt, because it's almost pants season and none of mine fit. My thighs have had it way too easy with the summer skirts. My britches are bitches.