hale pupule

I came home from a haircut-and-color appointment ready to face the rest of the day, and what did I do?

Nothing.

Well ... nothing that required me to leave the hobbit hole or wear a bra, anyway. Washed dishes. Read fanfic. Took a nap with the cat. Called the parents. Showered again to get the chemical smell and hair trimmings off. Changed nail polish from Phil's favorite blue to glittery red. I rationalized it by telling myself I won't get another lazy Saturday any time soon.

I did ask Dad to take me out to dinner Monday night. Phil's working, so we'll celebrate Valentine's Day tomorrow night with Supernatural episodes and chocolate cream pie. But Dad's the only family member who will be available Monday night, so he's taking me to our favorite burger joint.

Mondays suck and Tuesdays are worse. When I feel icky but still functional, I try to compensate for feeling low by looking better. Mondays will be Red Shoe Days. Doesn't matter what I wear with them -- jeans, trousers, or a skirt -- so long as I wear a pair or red (or reddish, like wine-colored) shoes. Tuesdays will be Skirt Days. Doesn't matter if it's a dress or a skirt and what else I wear with it, so long as I show off my legs a little.

We'll see how long it lasts.

Two items of good news from the Mysterium! They need a house manager (maybe co-manager, not sure) for their next show, The Crucible, which runs from early March to early April. One of their veteran actresses was house manager for S&M, and she's going to train me over the next week or three.

Also, director Marla acquired the rights to Sondheim's Into the Woods last week. (Queue a dozen squees on Facebook when she announced it.) I chatted with her last night and admitted that I haven't seen it, but a Netflix copy was waiting for me in my mailbox. She's directing, which will be good; I like her a lot. I said something about not even knowing if there was a role suitable for me, and she nodded emphatically and said, "Oh, yeah. There is." (Probably someone who has two lines, but anything's cool if I get to play!) Still haven't seen the DVD (not an actual movie; it's a video of the Broadway production with Bernadette Peters) ... maybe tomorrow. I asked Marla when ItW would be, and she said September. I have plenty of time to prepare for this play, so I'm going to start setting money aside to engage a cleaning service as well as saving vacation time so I can take Hell Week off. (I can maintain the dishes, cat box, and laundry, but I was too tired for anything beyond that during the two-month rehearsal and performance period of S&M.)

Boy, won't you all be happy when this play is over and I shut up about it!

I tested my memory and spent the last five minutes typing out all my lines for all four of my parts (five scenes) that I'll play for the next three performances, just to make sure I've got the words down. No queues, blocking, or gestures; just lines. Then I went to the script and compared it with what I'd typed, and with only a few insignificant exceptions (using "nearly" when the script says "near," for example), I remembered every line I must speak and got them all correct.

I feel better now. I'm still nervous (which is entirely natural) but not as much as I was half an hour ago. It'll be over in five hours no matter what, so it's up to me to determine if I go home happy or in tears. I have everything I need in me: the lines, the blocking, the gestures, voices, facial expressions, songs, and dance moves.

Patrick Stewart used to perform A Christmas Carol as a one-man show, and he did every part from Scrooge to Tiny Tim. I figure all I have to be is a tenth the actor he is to pull off four of the forty-odd parts in Scrooge and Marley.

I can do this! *\o/*