Thursday, February 2, 2012

No Title

It's too late to write and it's been a hard, hard day including ugly crying, like Gradydoctor says, and then a rehearsal that was so bad, so bad, so bad. I have chiseled these words and lines into my brain with a dull-edged tool and yet still, some of them come slowly or not at all and all of us are like this and we haven't worked with sound effects or costume changes and there was an opera going on upstairs or something like it, great crescendos of voice and piano and crashing down again and we all faltered and lay panting on the stage like great whales without their voices.

We have two more rehearsals before we open.

Two.

Two.

Two.

More.

Rehearsals.

It's too late to write and it's too late to go back and get it all right from the get-go and the dogs pushed me over the edge today and don't even give me any advice because none of it is going to work. You have dogs, they are like children. What? You just stand on the street corner of Craig's List and give them away?

I think of all of the completely wasted time I have spent in the last eleven, twelve? years walking these dogs and cleaning up after them and getting them groomed and giving them their flea medications and today I washed them with flea shampoo and then I found a flea on Owen's face when I was reading him Are You My Mother?

He held me tightly, that boy did, when we got to the scary part with the SNORT and he reassured me that the baby bird would find his mother (we have read this book about ten thousand times) and when the baby bird DID find his mother, he hugged me even tighter. See? See? His mother came back.

"Once upon a time," I tell him when I am softly rubbing his back, "Once upon a time there was a very old turkey named Mr. Peep."

And I tell him the story until we both fall asleep and today, when he got here, he pulled a chair up to the kitchen door. "Wait for Bop," he said. "We have to take a nap first," I told him. "Bop will come after we nap." And that was okay. He believed me and it turned out to be completely true.

It's all okay. I am just overwhelmed, over-filled.

It's all okay.

I don't remember how to just be but being is something we can't avoid and that is something to hold on to.

So I am, holding on and this is nothing, just a play, just a life, just dogs, just...yeah. Life. And not a bad one at all but a marvelous one and it is time, thank god, for sleep.

14 comments:

  1. How kind and loving of you to post even when you are so tired and so overwhelmed.

    Sometimes it's all hard - it's all good - and it's still all hard.

    We, I, we will all be here tomorrow, just here, just for you. As my daughter used to always say, to me and our dogs...."everything is gonna' be alright".

    Sleep well.

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  2. Oh Sister Moon. You are perfect and will nail that performance, I just know it. You are filled with the very best kinds of drama and realness so I know you will be amazing. Just like you are for us who sit on your porch each day.

    And ugly crying? Sometimes it is so very necessary.

    Favorite part: "Wait for Bop."

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  3. I like the phrase: not overwhelmed, just over-filled. Gonna steal that one. ;)

    Fill it up, pour it out.

    Love you!

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  4. God, I love an ugly cry. I just hate the feeling afterward.

    I hope you're sleeping as I type this.

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  5. I love that you write multiple times a day. You are a mighty woman and I can see you nailing that part and being a super grandma and I'll even bet you are a very loving dog mom -- you just might not know what all the rest of us do right now. I hope you get a good sleep and wake up ready to re-fill your bucket. Joanne

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  6. Your thoughts of Just Be have entered my head many times over the past week. When I am overwhelmed, I do pray the Serenity Prayer to get more in balance. My goal is to get to that place where I can Just Be.

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  7. p.s. Joanne has the best, most encouraging comments! And I love that they always start off listed as "anonymous" and then she signs them. I love that you write multiple times per day, too. That inspired me to make a second comment! Ha!

    Seriously though. . . You've taught me to be a more fearless writer. Because you don't hold back when you write and I think that's powerful. So, so powerful!

    Don't hold back on the stage, either. Hell, ad lib what you can't remember. You'll still be awesome.

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  8. I am planning on ad libbing what I can't remember. It's going to be a great show, just not the same show twice.
    (does it mean anything that the word I'm entering on the word verification is "conmen"?)

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  9. Well. There were fleas long before there was some sort of social reaction to them. In plenty of places, being alive means dealing with fleas. I wish you good dog luck though. Good-dog luck.

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  10. Oh that overwhelmed feeling. I love how you're still noticing the simple blessings in the middle of that "too much" feeling.

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  11. Dr Manning makes me embarrassed -- I don't really get how to sign on here with anything as I don't have a blog or a twitter account or anything. I read and don't intend to comment but sometimes I just can't help myself! Anonymous Joanne

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  12. just to say, our best concerts always had the very very worst dress rehearsals. just to say.
    xox

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  13. liv- You are so sweet. I must confess- I wrote mostly for me. Thank-you, though.

    Gradydoctor- Thank-you, too, you precious woman. The problem with ad-libbing is that pretty soon we're doing some other play...
    And hell, we can't write it onstage. One line does lead to another. Hopefully. But believe me- we will be doing more than our share of rewriting while we're up there.
    Thanks for coming to sit on my porch.

    Omgrrl- Sometimes you just have to look at things from different angles to keep from jumping off a bridge.

    Elizabeth- I had the worst sleep! It was awful. I got up at five thirty and took an Atavan and went over my lines AGAIN!

    Joanne- See above about the sleep. Dammit. But it's been an okay day. Truly. And I never mind anonymous comments because they are always from good people. So far...

    Syd- I have the hotel number in case you need it. Tee-hee.

    Jon- What ARE actors except for con men? And women?
    And sometimes crossdressers.

    Birdie- Seriously fucked. You are right.

    Jo- Oh honey. I know it. But really? A flea on my perfect baby boy's face? Arrgghh.

    Lora- One has to use all the colors to paint the picture if one is to be halfway truthful.

    Madame King- This wasn't even dress rehearsal. But I know- that is often the case. Thank you for the encouragement. Love your way...M

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