It’s been way too long since I’ve been around, I know. (Insert deeply shamed head bow here.)
I feel like that guy in the news that put his kids in the trunk and then went to do a little shopping. I only planned to be gone for a few minutes, and Whoops! I got distracted by shiny things and you’re all still in the trunk, and maybe you’ll still love me after your brains get some oxygen and I get you back from foster care, but maybe not, who knows?
I don’t even know where I’ve been exactly. Just….needed a breather, I guess. We could pretend I was doing soul-expanding yoga on a mountain top somewhere, if you want, with a swami guy, and Richard Gere. I definitely did NOT sit on the couch all Thanksgiving break, eating large amounts of pie and scratching, and dressing the cats in little outfits. (Did I say that I missed you all? I did.)
So here I am! Hopefully this is a good thing.
Some things that have happened in my absence are:
- my husband bought a bullhorn off Ebay. He giggles worryingly whenever he mentions a new feature of the horn he’s discovered, such as that it plays “La Cucaracha” at a high volume. I’m probably going to have to break it at some point.
- my husband bought me a blow torch, also off Ebay. For my birthday. I think I forgot to mention this somehow. I shook the package and felt liquid moving. I made a little joke about getting a propane tank for my birthday. Haha. He said, “Of course it’s not a propane tank!…….It’s a different kind of fuel!”
- I dreamt two nights ago that I was running a bed and breakfast. Business was good until I discovered that some guy on the third floor was kidnapping people and draining all their blood out while they were alive. I was really mad that I had to do all that laundry, because there was a lot of blood on those sheets, and once blood sets it’s really a laundry challenge. Then last night I dreamt that my director tried to kiss me. The second dream was creepier.
- I have been very busy becoming other people. Not like Chastity Bono. Just a blind lady, Mrs. Fezziwig, and other assorted loud Victorian women. Christmas Carol opens on Friday, and tech week started today, which is also known as Hell Week, and for good reason. For instance, we have dress rehearsals every night this week until eleven. I have five costume changes to figure out. Sometimes I change quickly in the hall. Also the sets are huge, and if you don’t watch where you’re going, you could actually be killed. Fernadette, my nemesis, has reappeared in her caroler’s bonnet and perpetual sneer. She watches me from the other side of the stage, but I just put on my Annie Sullivan glasses and pretend she’s not there.
I realized tonight that I am paying for all my harsh judgment of blind stalkers on this blog. Turns out that seeing anything from behind those dark glasses is really hard! Especially when you are on stage, and the lighting is all swirly-foggy, and you’re supposed to say your blind lady lines right at the edge of the stage, after you’ve walked hunched over wearing the dark glasses and a petticoat that drags under your shoes periodically. I haven’t yet cartwheeled into the orchestra pit, but it’s just a matter of time.
Also I have to wear a horrible grey wig for another scene, and I’ve been experimenting with old lady makeup. According to the helpful Old Lady Face Diagram I got at the costume store, it’s easy! Just a little contouring and shadow, and sallow yellow stipple and age spots, and sunken eyepits, and wrinkles.
Last night I spent an hour and a half in the bathroom dabbing and stippling, and frowning at myself to find my forehead creases, and pursing my lips to create old lady smoker lines with an eye pencil. Then I stood back to look. It’s like getting a horrific glimpse of the future you. Hopefully far, far, into the future, but possibly next year when I am an old crone with a face like a shrunken head.
So I figure I did some excellent makeup work, because when I came out of the bathroom, my husband said “Ahhh!! Jeee--sus!!” like you do when someone sneaks up behind you playfully with a large snake and dangles it just at eye level with its fangs exposed.
The dog averted his eyes tactfully.
Also my Mrs. Fezziwig dress is too big in the bodice which means when I lean over to take the tray of fake candied apples (which are going to go into the orchestra pit too at some point) the audience will be getting an eyeful of old lady boob.
This week is going to be a little crazy with the thespianism, so I promise to come by and see you all at your blogs (because I really did miss you all) soon, just maybe not for another couple of days, unless I find a free minute or two somewhere between makeup sessions and hiking up my bodice.
In the meantime, forget I said that thing about dressing up the cats, okay?
Thanks, you’re the best. I mean that.