My New Philosophy

April 17, 2011

As my last show concluded, my theatre season ended – well, except for general auditions at Phoenix Theatre next month.  But I don’t have any shows on the horizon, and school is ending for Moo. So I lay in bed one night listening to Herbie breathing next to me and Juice breathing on the monitor, and I looked ahead and looked inward and thought, “What now?  What next?”

I developed a rather undeveloped new life philosophy which goes like this – Yes.  Yes, I will be on Moo’s preschool board.  Yes, I would love to be on the theater’s artistic committee.  Yes I will try something new, Yes I will talk to more people.  Yes I will try that shade of eyeshadow, Yes I will commit to Zumba, Yes I will try to write for magazines instead of just reading them.  Yes I will put myself out there as much as I possibly can in a genuine way….and we’ll see what happens.

My mom said, “Oh, the ol’ throw-everything-at-the-wall-and-see-what-sticks approach.”


And maybe something will eventually lead to me getting paid some money.  That would be nice.


Treading Water

April 10, 2011

I don’t know why things seem so difficult lately.  Money’s tight, work is stressful for Herbie, I’ve got post-show blues, and Juice still won’t sleep through the night.  But those things are small beans.  (Is that a saying?)  We have shelter, food, love, and these kids – OH these kids!  Man they’re swell.

I have so much I want and need to do – starting with CLEAN THE HOUSE AAAAAUGH!  Also revitalize my blog, start that second blog, pursue some freelance opportunities, and prepare for general season auditions.

It’s just so hard to stay awake.

The show ended well – really well.  We received a good(ish) review that may or may not have praised my voice and dancing and called “All That Jazz” one of the best numbers of the show (toot! toot!).  That review energized us, and we really hit our stride with the last two performances.  Then it was over, just when I was ready for it to continue a few more weeks.  I still haven’t unpacked my bag – and there are some smushed eyelashes and a pair of fishnets that really need some attention.

Moo still wanders around the house singing all the songs, and that helps make the glow last longer, but still I wonder…what’s next, what’s next?  The problem is I can’t seem to prioritize my to-do list.  I need to write this and that and this and that, and sing this and read that, and practice this and work on that… all right NOW.

Oh but yes, first – CLEAN THE FREAKIN’ FLOORS!

Cue Juice crying…

Another One

January 2, 2011

I need a plan.

I’m sitting here, staring off into space, watching Facebook refresh itself and wondering what I should really be doing.

There’s that pile of socks and underwear over there, waiting to be sorted…

I could try “Jungle Boogie” on Just Dance 2 again…

I could corner Herbie for a serious talk about Juice’s head shape and whether or not to get him a helmet…

I could finish the dishes…

I could begin reaching out to people again in an effort to start my theatre news blog…

I could…write…

I haven’t felt much like blogging lately – mostly since Judy died.  Every time I start to write, all I can think about is Jude.  But I feel like I should keep writing, if only to keep my brain in good writing-shape, and also because I have this tiny inkling of a feeling that this blog is leading me down the right path, even if it’s just a stepping stone on the way to something else.

But what?

I went out to dinner last week with a few friends from high school.  When our wine glasses were filled, we all clinked, and Mary said, “Well, thank God this fucking year is over.”

It was the year my friend died, so -yes.  But it was also the year my son was born, so – no.  And now it’s a new year, and usually I can look ahead with great hope, but right now I’m just wondering when Juice is going to start crying again.

I want to do so much.  Mother my children.  Be in shows.  Keep up and improve my blog, and try to grow its readership.  Start a new blog.  Keep the freaking house (mostly) clean.  Get in shape.  Cook healthy but delicious dinners that my daughter will gobble up.  DANCE.  Reach new heights.

I need a plan…

Voice Mail

February 24, 2010

So I got a message from Tempe Little Theatre yesterday, asking if I would like to join the cast of Sweet Charity, like NOW.  Apparently three girls have had to drop out due to medical reasons and so they’re a tiny bit frantic, trying to fill out the cast before they open in about a month.

They’d heard that the director had some reservations about my pregnancy (so is THAT why?  it’s not that I suck?), but if I felt I was up to it…

I said no.  No, thank you, because even though Katy Choreographer’s involved, I’m not feeling the vibe with this show.  And because I am getting big quickly, and my back hurts.  And I’m tired.  Oh, and I’m having a BABY.  And I should probably get ready for that.  Say, dive into that office/disaster and turn it into a baby’s room, which will definitely take every last minute of the next few months (especially because I would so much rather watch Lost and ice dancing than wade through piles of…. I don’t even KNOW what’s in there).

But OH I miss theatre.  I miss being on a stage, memorizing lines, learning dance steps.  I miss being me, and not Mommy all the time.  I love being a mother more than anything, but now that it’s been almost a year since I’ve been in a show (sigh), I feel my identity being swallowed up by this little daughter of mine, so hungry for me and my attention all the time.  I’m a good mother, but I think I was an even better mother when I was more…filled with myself.  And now there’s another little hungry one on the way, and in a few short months I will be swallowed whole.  Willingly, of course.  Happily consumed by motherhood – but counting the days (weeks, months), until I can audition again.

Out of Hiding

December 9, 2009

So…it’s been kind of a rough month.

Rough, punctuated by bursts of elation.  It’s enough to make a Mama feel like breaking off from the world and crawling into her couch cave with a fleece blanket and a nice cuppa tea.

I remember when I was first pregnant with Moo, I felt kind of nauseous (damn you, broccoli!), but mostly I floated around, bouncing lightly off the walls, until Herbie would pull me down for a while, tempting me with ice cream.  My world exploded in visions of flower-print onesies and little baby giggles.  I was scared, but my God, I was going to be a Mommy!

Hey, guess what?  I’m pregnant.

12 weeks – due in June.

I know, it’s exciting, right?  I found out the last day of our 5th anniversary trip to Sedona, and when I looked at the test, I cried with joy and felt my blood rush to my toes (to tell them the good news, I guess?).  And then I wrapped up the test and gave it to Herbie as an “oops, one more” anniversary present, and he cried and hugged me and repeated, “Seriously?  Seriously?!” just like he did when I told him about Moo.

The only difference was, I felt a little bit relieved to be so excited.  Because there’s this undeniable bittersweet taste to it all – I was going to audition for City of Angels, and Oklahoma, and Sweet Charity – and now that’s all out the window, for what, about two years from now?  Maybe a little less?  I worked so hard to regain a vital part of my identity, and now I’m going to get swallowed up by Mommydom.  Willingly swallowed up, yes, but I still feel just a little bit sad to say goodbye to the stage so soon.

Not that I’m not thrilled – I must stress – VERY. EXCITED.  Another baby, YAYYYY!  But then, the nausea started.  I just was not that sick with Moo, but this one – holy shit.   It started with fish sticks.  Then cherry pie, then quiche, then the smell of Doc, Herbie, and Moo – then ALL food groups, and then I couldn’t even set foot in the kitchen, and pretty much just lay on the couch moaning and growling at Herbie. 

Combined with crazy hormones and the bittersweet aspect – NOT A GOOD TIME.  And I just couldn’t write about how I felt so sick and confused, and all I could think about was being pregnant, and is the baby healthy, and what is that cramp I’m feeling?  Is that normal?  I don’t remember!  Oh God, toilet…

It finally started to ease up just a bit before Thanksgiving, so that I thought I might be able to sit at the table for Thanksgiving dinner, and just not look at anyone while they’re chewing.  But at 2 a.m. I started experiencing stomach cramps so bad I couldn’t help but compare them to labor pains.  So I spent Thanksgiving alone on the couch, crying through Ghost Whisperer reruns and trying to convince myself it was just the stomach flu, nothing worse.

It was just the stomach flu.  And thanks to that nasty bug and all the nausea, I’m a skinny pregnant lady, which is a nice way to start out compared to Moo, when I ate nonstop like a drooling hyena for the first four months straight and endured a lecture from the nurse practioner about getting too fat.  Nurst practitioners are evil.

Anyway, I’ve reached 12 weeks, I’ve had the screenings and the ultrasounds, and our baby looks beautiful and healthy.  The nausea is beginning to abate, our Christmas tree is glowing, my daughter serenades me with “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” whenever I desire, and this candy cane is delicious.

I think I’m ready to rejoin the world.

Oh, and it’s a boy.


I’m in a bad way.  The last couple weeks, I’ve developed this terrible habit of staying up until 2 a.m., sometimes writing, but mostly just roaming around the Internet looking for… something.  What the hell am I looking for?  Whatever it is, I don’t find it, and usually get caught up reading articles on Entertainment Weekly or Go Fug Yourself, or perusing the many fine blogs I enjoy.

Then I climb in bed at two next to a heavy-breathing Herbie and conk myself in the head a few hundred times.  Because I know what’s going to happen – I’m going to be a grumpy mommy in the morning, take a nap with Moo, accomplish nothing, and then stay up until two again, searching wildly on the Internet for… something.

Inspiration?  Ambition?  A fast, easy way to make lots of money?

I’m in some sort post-quest purgatory.  Again.  If I get in a show soon, I suppose that might change, but right now I’m just – aaaugh.  Ergh.   Euuuugh. 

Like that.

Everything’s just a bit out of whack.  I suspect that maybe a bold, whomping schedule change would help.  In bed by 10:30.  Up at 6.  WRITE.  Then eat breakfast RIGHT AWAY when Moo wakes up, instead of waiting an hour and then she takes an entire freaking hour to eat and then I’m nagging her to hurry up because it’s time to leave and then she gets upset and eats even slower, and then I’m yanking clothes on her and there’s no time to brush teeth, and then she’s put out and insists that she DOES NOT KNOW HOW to walk out the door or climb into her car seat, and because I’m sleep-deprived I snap at her and then we both pout, and that is no way to start the day.

I want to be a morning person.  I really do.  But I think the chances of me actually going to bed early and waking up early are slim to none.  I’ve tried it before.  I think the longest I’ve lasted is three weeks.

So what do I do?  What do I do?  It’s more than going to bed too late.  I need to… do something.  Write a book.  (When?)  Make money.  (How?)  Have another baby.  (Oh, I said I wasn’t going to talk about that.)

I want the answer to all this restlessness.  Maybe I’ll keep looking on the Internet.

One Year Old

September 18, 2009

Oh no, I missed my own anniversary!

September 8, 2008, I earnestly began my blog, and along with it my quest to rid myself of some theatrical baggage…  And good God, I must say I’m rather amazed and proud that I actually stuck with something!  For (over) a whole year!  Thanks for reading and sticking with me, my dear bloggie friends.

For old time’s sake, let’s celebrate in haiku:

Three auditions down
And I didn’t burst in flames
Gimme more, more, more

My quest is over,
My Moo is bigger, and now
The future is bright

(Except for dentists,
and getting older ugh ugh,
and dirty dishes.)

Umm, introspection?
Just not feeling it tonight,
Conan in my ear.

I think this calls for
A batch of rainbow cupcakes
And frosting (and booze).