I just got back from rehearsal and it was a good night. Things are going to fall into place, I can tell. It's one of our actor's birthday in a few days and so Jan had brought a cake and we all sang him Happy Birthday and he blew out the candles.
We are a family of sorts down there at the Opera House. Judy and Denise are going to be involved in this production too. Judy is stage-managing and Denise will do costumes and props. This is another reason to be part of this play- to get to see those ladies whom I love so regularly.
I really am the straight woman in this play. I don't get any of the really great, wild lines but that's okay. I'll do my best to make it a very fine part. It's a fun part. We have a new actor with us for this production- a fourteen year-old girl who has never acted and I can already tell that this chick is going to steal the show. She's adorable and funny and has the knack. She wore Tigger slippers tonight- we all fell in love with her a little more for that. She is very quiet offstage, but when she gets up there, she is sassy and sure of herself and is already figuring it out. She's smart, that one. She's soaking it up.
Yeah. This is going to be fun.
So I girded my loins and applied the L'Oreal.
And I got about $7.00 worth of color, meaning that no one has noticed because there's hardly any change at all.
Well, at least it didn't turn orange or anything.
I should have just bought a damn bottle of Sun-In to take with me which is my favorite way to color my hair. Spritz-spritz, play in the sun. Done.
And I got out my suitcase. And I started putting some things in. Oh boy. This is real. This is really, really. Three more nights and then we're leaving. Airports make me crazy. Well, I'll tell you what really makes me crazy- Mr. Moon. He does this thing where we wait for boarding and he always wants to be like the last person on the plane, which is fine, but then, right as they're boarding the last rows, he takes that moment to decide to hit the head for one last pee before we board.
I always think we're going to miss the plane and by the time he comes ambling out, I am practically screaming at him. "Come on! Come on!" and we slip in just as they close the doors. Mr. Moon on a plane is not a happy man. His legs are twice as long as most people's and I am not even exaggerating. His jeans come up to my bosoms when I fold them. And since there's not enough leg room for a normal person on flights these days, he is generally miserable. He always asks for front row seating or emergency exit seating and sometimes we get that and sometimes we don't and I can't tell you how often we have been separated in flights because at the last minute he'll score a seat where he can actually sit without his knees being in his ears and I'm stuck back behind him about fourteen rows.
Also, the last time we went to Cozumel, his bags got selected to be searched in Tallahassee. They gave off a "suspicious" gas. Turned out to be his shaving cream. But damn if they didn't go through every thing in his bags. And I sat there and babbled like an idiot to the woman doing the searching and kept telling her how anxious I was, blah, blah, blah, and she finally said, "Look, God will take care of you."
Hoo-boy. She didn't know who the hell she was talking to, did she?
The flying part doesn't bother me unless the weather is really bad and the flight attendant pulls out a rosary WHICH HAS HAPPENED TO ME! I was worried on that flight. Yes. I was. The lightening and the thunder and the wind and the turbulence and the bumping (it was a tiny plane) were bad enough but when she pulled that rosary out of her pocket and pretended to read while closing her eyes and holding it in her hand...
That was not a good moment for me.
But hey! We lived! God took care of us! And so did the pilot.
Okay. Breathe in. Breathe out. Make tomorrow's smoothie. I have to go to town tomorrow to run to the library and get a few things. Razors. I have no razor blades. Okay. I do have one. I think I've been using it for approximately six months. I might as well be running a Popsicle stick over my legs.
It's been a good day. Owen was mostly sweet and he hugged me a lot and we walked to the post office holding hands. This was a first. He wasn't in the stroller. He was a good boy and held tight to my hand and he opened the door of the post office for me and he twirled the knobs on the other boxes and he held my hand all the way home. Except for the part where he said, "Hold me," which I did, toting in on my hip, that old hip which has toted so many kids and which by now must feel like a well-worn sofa. Although it's not quite that big. The hip that if I move a certain way pops and snaps.
It's okay. That hip was designed to carry babies on and as long as I have breath in my body and can stand upright, I'll be using it for just that purpose.