The In-between Time.

Living each day, waiting for the New Year, yet... enjoying this sort of in-between time. This is really the one time of year when one can let everything go, because so many businesses are not doing business, so much energy is spent on some kind of frantic need to celebrate and it may just be too counterproductive to invest too much time in job-search. Better to wait until next Monday. There it is. The in-between time.

Perhaps this is meant as a time to re-evaluate. I choose to use the time to spend time. Mostly with my husband. I cook and shop and try to listen. We talk. (He listens really well.) We play games and watch Netflix (greatest thing ever...) and rent the occasional recent movie. ("UP" is fantastic. Much better than I expected.)

The in-between time. I find I am so grateful to my friends who've called or contacted me recently and am very disappointed in those who have not. Perhaps we are not as close as I'd imagined. Perhaps some of them are just too busy. I find that I forgive them, or make excuses, or say to myself that I have not called either, but either or any way, my mouth turns down.

The in-between time. We've bought a "router." Never understood what that little inexpensive piece of equipment could do! My husband and I can both be on line separately, at the same time! Genius. Or, I can get streaming video while he completes his traffic school. I don't care what all the Luddites say, I love technology. (I just this second used the edit button to "undo" something I'd in-inadvertently done...) I think it makes our world better. It certainly allows me to spell and rewrite easily. For me all this is about communication and the tech makes my life a little easier.

The in-between time. The time designed for families. It works. It is and it does. It may be hard, but it is always always worth it.

We have just a few more days of in-between time. A few more days before we head into a new year full of possibilities. A few more days of looking back. A few more days of leisure and self-absorption. (Love this.. spent several minutes trying to look up absorbtion...seemed like the way it should be spelt. I was wrong and although the dictionary couldn't help me, spell check did... Amazing. Okay. Really! My students have NO excuse! LOL. Oh, and my sister-in-law thinks LOL stands for "lots of love." Love that! )

The in-between time gives some of us time to think these random thoughts. To spend time with those we love, to ponder, to give, to watch old episodes of Star Trek (..pick Janeway or Kirk or Picard...) To kiss really and to love truly.

Disconcerting this in-between time. Disconcerting but ultimately healing. We do all look to the New Year together. We all have that in common, and we all hope together that 2010 will be better.

Happy New Year! Let the balloons fly.

Christmas 2009.

I had a wonderful Christmas. I am hoping you all did too.

I spent Christmas Eve with my husband, we had ham and sweet potatoes, asparagus and brussel sprouts, cornbread and a lovely Cabernet. We opened presents and the shirt I bought him fit! I love success!

Today, I cooked brunch for my larger family, eggs and sausages, blueberry bread and cranberry bread, fruit salad and Cool Whip. Perfect. We've done this every year since the nieces and nephews came along. It is part of my gift to them. We sit around after and open Christmas presents. This year was particularly special as my 3 sisters and I were able to get together to shop earlier in the week. We can't manage this but once every 5 years or so. Oh, two or three of us will find the time, but to have all 4 at once is such a treat. We fly and drive to meet somewhere in between all of us, greet each other briefly, all have to go pee, one has to have a smoke, and then... well, we need to get lunch. It takes us a good 90 minutes until we actually start shopping. We then divide and conquer! We review each others' lists and head off in different directions as the need strikes us. We used to spend a lot of time looking for each other and get very frustrated, but cell phones have changed all that. I would be standing in line and my sister would call, "Where are you?" "I am in the men's dept." "Well, the line in cosmetics is really small and they will ring you up here!" Off we go, taking some other friendly shoppers along with us. Efficient and fun. "Oh, I love this store, you'll find a present for you father-in-law here!" ("Look, will your son like that!?") "Wait, you love this store, tell me what you want, I haven't bought your present yet! Just point..." Too much fun!

So, Christmas day becomes... "Oh, look! What a surprise! Just what I needed!" Makes me smile even now. I love them. I just wish my brother could be part of this silliness and communion.

My Dad. 84 and still hosting holidays. Well, he has the biggest house. (And the biggest heart.) I bring everything from my house I need to cook. My sisters help set the table and finally the nieces are jumping in too. We'll get the boys next year. (My brother-in-law is a wondrous help.) We use the space to get together, but do all the work so Dad can just relax, and host (he loves that) so he can offer drinks or pour coffee. It is kinda perfect. Mom would have loved this and loved how he continues her traditions. (All three of my sisters told me how much they missed Mom this year. She has been dead 5 1/2 years. Seems like yesterday.)

I come home to my husband. The Lakers lost. Boston now has the best record. It doesn't matter, it is just a ping-pong match between them at this point. My husband was cheery and delighted to have left-overs. We watched a Christmas movie and then watched the new Star Trek movie. (A gift to each other.) This was heaven. A great two days.

I send you all great hope for our future. I send you all my best wishes. I send you love.

xoxo

mkk.

Taking Control.

The bright beautiful morning and early afternoon bring renewed hope and determination. The strength I find in myself and my husband make the future look like yet another exciting adventure.

It is okay not to know what is to come. It is okay to revel in the moment and each other. I will celebrate the holidays and know that 2010 will bring the good and the bad, but always something new and ultimately positive.

Finally, we take control of our own destinies. We offer joy and in turn we make our own joy. It is never in the wallowing. It is all in the doing. Through sheer force of will we look to the new days with optimism and wonder.

In the moment.

It is not supposed to work this way.

We learn and play. We go to school. We study... hard. We go out into that big wide dangerous world and we work. We work... hard. We give everything we have and we persevere. We take the set-backs and learn from them. We try to use the criticism and discard the useless information. We grow. We develop strong reputations. We succeed. We get to a level where we think we are safe.

We are never safe. Safe is an illusion. The president can't protect me. The congress won't protect me. I can no longer protect myself, and find myself, along with my neighbors, terrified of the future. (Yet, with left-over hope, we all still decorate for the holidays...)

This is not like me. I live and give, play and work, all in the moment. Each moment is important. The next moment has the potential to be equally important. I find out when I get there. This has worked for me.

But now. Now, I am actually making a concerted effort looking forward. One has to. Will we have insurance next year? Will I make even less money than I do now? Have I finally gotten too old to be relevant? (The news is not good.)

I know I'm not irrelevant. I know I have much to contribute. I know I can still lead. Is there still an organization that will appreciate that? Where is that? Should we move to France?

Always before, I've had the luxury of something coming over the next hill. Some project I would focus on, later... when the moment came. I am living my moments and nothing seems to be out there. Nothing over the next hill. Heck, the hill isn't even there. (Reference to an older blog..."Lost Hills.")

This particular blog is not necessarily about work, though I do find it interesting that so much of my self-worth and ego is caught up in and through my work.

I've never had any patience.

I have to learn to be patient.

I know how lucky I am to have the love and support of my family and friends. They can't really help. This isn't about that. They are all struggling in their own ways too. I can't really help them. You, dear reader, may be in far worse straights than I. I can only speak to my own disenchantment, and my own fears.

This is hard.

I have to make my own opportunities. I have to open my own doors. I have to move into the future without trepidation.

Dear friends. "They never said life would be easy." I am here to tell you, life is not easy. It takes enormous courage every moment. Especially when one lives "in the moment."

If Wishes Were Horses.

I put two fairies on my Christmas Tree. I like them better than the angels I put close to the top. The fairies are pretty and sassy and not at all angelic. I like the whimsey. Yes, my tree is up. It takes several days. I am allergic to trees so several years ago my dear husband bought me an artificial tree a couple of days after Christmas. (It was on sale $50. Very cheap, we've had it for 10 years or more.) It looks very real. Well, the tree sits there for 2 or 3 days until I get the "feeling" to put the lights up. So, I spend several hours lighting the tree and am exhausted. (600 lights.) I put Santa on top. (My mom would have called him "Santy", but really it is St. Nick.) Then, I wait a day or two and consider the decorations. Ultimately, the Tenenbaum is ready for viewing...the decorations from my mother, my nieces, gifts to my husband, things I liked and bought, and a little (now) broken angel that was always on my Mother's tree.)

Well, the tree looks great. A few days ago, feeling pressure from my neighbors, I put out the outside lights. (The pressure was brought only because they had already completed their decorations the week before.) I want to contribute to the general holiday spirit. I've written about my neighborhood. They (we) decorate for EVERYTHING!

It is all good. This activity forces one to participate. It is less about joining than participating. I like it. Our houses all look GOOD, if tacky. The children are delighted.

I want to make the children happy. I am taking my recalcitrant nephew to lunch and maybe a movie next week. I am calling another nephew just to see if he is okay. Somehow truth comes out in the "holidays". It does. And I am not just the innocent bystander. I never wanted children. But, there they are. And I need to find some way to help take care of them.

Oh, this went a completely different way. I was talking about fairies on the Christmas Tree. Hmmm. One Christmas I want to put up decorations of only things with wings... fairies, angels, birds, airplanes...

If wishes were horses then beggars would ride.

"Don't Panic."

I may suffer from logorrhea, but I will endeavor to be ever perspicacious.

It is interesting, to say the least, how many emotions one can have in a two week period. I travel from fury and frustration to the land of the bereft and back to the realm of acceptance. I see that I can move forward and yet I am frozen in place. I am ever confident and I've lost hope. Oh, wait, there it is again. Today is a new day. Nope, it is just like yesterday, again. I appreciate that a part of me is grieving, then I remember the worst day of my life was when my mother died. No loss of job or position can compare. I survived my mother's death. (I had dinner with Dad, just tonight...) I can survive this very minor, albeit surprising, shift.

I had a dear friend remind me today:

1. My reputation and my body of work speaks for me.

2. I am embarking on yet another new and exciting adventure. I just don't yet know what that will be.

3. I have more to learn.

4. I have nothing to fear.

"Don't Panic"

The New Year will offer new challenges for us all.

I am here... (and you are there and we are all together...)

Still Smiling.

I made myself smile.

As you know, I walk and walk alone. Yesterday, after saying hello to yet one more of my neighbors, I remarked to myself, "How lovely! Everyone in my neighborhood greets me, smiles, says hi, asks how I am or we talk briefly about the weather." I don't actually know these people, but we always exchange pleasantries.

Friendly human contact. A brief acknowledgment of the other's place on the planet.

Then, out of nowhere, I thought, "thank goodness we don't have to sniff butts!"

I smiled all the way home.

Thanksgiving 2009

My family rocks. My sisters, my brother, my dad and my beautiful nieces and nephews. I didn't cook for them, I didn't come over early. I arrived late, stayed an hour and a half, didn't eat, and still had a fantastic full time.

I came home and cooked for my husband, who has been unable to attend Thanksgiving for several years. I've been sick at heart not spending the day with him, so this year... something different.

He and I ate a little later than usual, but we were together, spent the time together, ate too much together, loved the food together. (I even made a Lebanese dish just for him... Success!)

I am thankful. Tomorrow looks brighter.

Lost Hills.

There is a town in the Central Valley of California called "Lost Hills." I have driven through this little town a number of times traveling from L.A. to San Francisco. The name has always struck me as wonderfully funny, because, in fact, one can't see any hills while in Lost Hills. (Remember, this town is in a valley; there are hills all around. One just can't see them there...)

Lost Hills has a road called (I kid you not!) Brown Material Road. I woke up this morning thinking about "Brown Material Road."

Hmm. Right now, I feel like I'm living in Lost Hills on Brown Material Road. I don't feel I have to be any more graphic. I am being a little sardonic and metaphorical, but imagine... actually living on Brown Material Road in Lost Hills.

I don't. I live in Sunland. On Nassau Street. How pleasant is that?

Different looks at different place names. For all I know, living on Brown Material Road in Lost Hills is "Eden," with a funny name.

The First Day of the Rest of My Life.

I am heartbroken. I am stunned. I am angry. But, I will pick myself up and find new work. I will look to the future.

I will look forward.

I am good at that.

Tomorrow is the first day of the rest of my life. (That is for my dearest friend!)

We start again.

Women at work and losing.

Be careful about being a strong woman. Sometimes that is enough to lose you the job.

Doing is ALL. (and some funny pictures.)

Wednesday I go back to San Diego to make an early start on the 2010 Shakespeare Festival. I will meet with a director I've had no more than a few words with, up until now, and will get a chance to "get a feel" for him. It is a rare opportunity. I want to be prepared, but all I know is I will meet with him sometime after noon and that he asked the Old Globe to speak with someone about the schedule. Apparently.. that person is me. This should be interesting. I have more to discuss with him than just the schedule, though the schedule is important. I'm hoping for a meeting of minds. We'll see. I go with open eyes and no expectations.

I taught an interesting class today in stage management. The topic was "Running a Show." I gave what I thought was an inspiring lecture and we discussed the specific issues of maintaining a piece of theatre. I told my students many secrets. I gave them strategies and methods of manipulation. A small part of me wonders if I said too much, but the larger well being of future companies outweighed my need to be discreet. My student stage managers need to know. They need to know how to handle a group of very creative and unmanageable individuals. This includes the crew. Taking care of such a large community, creating a company, is a very delicate process and one that needs to be addressed with tact, anticipation, and action. Unfortunately, I can only talk about stage managing. I can't teach it unless the students are there, with me in rehearsal, tech, understudy rehearsals and in the booth. (And backstage, and in the dressing rooms, and after the show and with the actors at a party.)

Difficult. I try to give them the tools. We talked today for a bit about laying out a floor. (My class is 3 hours long... I have the time!) Confusing for them and I realized that next semester we have to actually lay out a floor. Theory is one thing. Doing is all.

It was a good day. I went to Trader Joe's. Love that place. They have a sparkling Pinot Grigio for $3.99 that is to die for. Bought some water too. And those little tomatoes. Love those. I never leave that place spending less than $30.00. Hummus! Tangerine Juice, yes.

Pour yourself a glass of wine. You'll need it for this next segment.

My neighborhood never stops surprising me.

I call this "Barney Rubbles's House". LOL . Well, Look at it!

This next house is obsessed with frogs. I could only get a couple of clear(ish) pictures from this house. They had a fence blocking the view.

They love these frogs. Curious.

Look closely. LAND SHARK! (Really, truly, a house on my walk!)

We do have autumn.

Okay. Maybe, just a little bit.

My bleary eyed tree. Well, maybe, I'm just a little out of focus... Part of Sunland Park. Nice.

Okay, down the street from these beautiful trees is a trailer park with this sign:

Oh!! My!! Gosh!! I could live there now! Yikes!

I took this last picture yesterday because my husband remarked what a great view this was. (Blocks from my home.)

I'm done. Isn't this a little like coming over someone's house and having to watch a slide show of her vacation? Oh, boy. How many of you actually had and/or remember THAT experience?

Wish you were here.

xo.

Serendipity. When the Search Pays Off.

Interesting day. We have been a little concerned about H1N1 and have searched repeatedly for a source of vaccine for my MS inflicted husband. Today, finally, we found a clinic blocks from our house. Free vaccinations! (Don't need it "free," just need it. Can't find it for love or money.) Long lines. I went to the front and said, "My husband has MS and can't stand in this long line" (true, we would have gone home.) ... they took us right away. They were so organized, I was very impressed. They kept asking me if I was to have a vaccine. I could have lied, easily, (said I had asthma or something...) but knowing my husband's need, and understanding we have a shortage of vaccine, I declined, reporting that I didn't think I qualified. After a very careful, quick screening of my husband, he received the shot. I stopped at the information booth on the way out and asked if I could stand in line for the shot. She asked me, "How old are you?" I said, "55." She said, "We are not doing older people right now." Yikes! I am older people... I laughed and said "thanks a lot, geez, I'm older!" She smiled and said, "hey, I'm older than you!" (Great comfort.)

I am happy to give up a chance to be vaccinated for people who could literally die from the flu. No problem. I'll get it when it becomes more widely available. I am beyond pleased that the local government set up a system that made it easy for me to get my sick husband covered. They were organized and it was easy. I don't often speak out in support of anything politicians do. Well, this was well done. My tax dollars well spent. The entire episode took about 30 minutes. The security my government gave my husband is well appreciated. I thank you health workers, volunteers, the City of Sunland and all you generous people. Thank-you.

There, Their, They're.

My journeys with my students prompt me to write this. I could say my journeys through my email prompts me too.

There they're sitting, waiting for their coffee. You're looking lovely today in your new hat. When it's raining, the robot and its friends aren't happy.

Just off the top of my head, some examples of the proper way to use homophones. We seem to have come to a place in culture and language where it doesn't matter what form or spelling one uses, as long as it sounds like it should.

Not true.

My (then) 11 year old nephew reported to me two years or so ago, that he was board. I wrote to him and explained he was not a two by four, but was in fact afflicted with ennui. (He was bored.)

I want a piece of cake. I want peace for the planet. I may be part of a clique. I heard a click and thought someone was coming through the door. I threw a baseball. I'm through with you. Too many people try to do two things at once.

I don't know why these distinctions are so difficult. My college students mix these words up all the time and I feel obliged not only to correct them, but to grade them accordingly. I've learned to let my friends slide (though I grind my teeth!)

Communication is a slippery slope. Precision is everything, particularly in my line of work.

We needed a prop. (The following is true.) I found on the prop list a new prop. Ore. What we actually needed was an oar. See how confusing this can be? See how easily a casual error in spelling can not only waste time, but not deliver a needed rehearsal and performance product?

Drives me crazy!

I've had several conversations lately about the inexact nature of emails. I agree. We don't get the visual or verbal cues we are used to when we communicate either face to face or by telephone. We are relying on words more than ever. Spellcheck just doesn't do it, folks.

Seem, Seam. Break, Brake. Cite, Site. Affect, Effect. (NOT EVEN HOMOPHONES, People!) Deign, Dane. Rain, Rein. Gait, Gate. Plait, Plate. Pain, Pane. Prey, Pray. Queue, Cue. Rue, Roue. Thyme, Time. Whine, Wine... Lye, Lie. Dye, Die.

The above are just a few examples. But, take a look and you will see that the distinction between the pairs of words changes the meaning enormously.

I will endeavor to clean up my language and always try to communicate with clarity. I will teach my students to do the same. I truly believe this is the path worth taking. I truly believe misunderstanding is endemic to our global problems.

And Next... Adverbs!

My rant for the evening.

La Luna.

The earth revolves around the sun, which implies the earth does not revolve around me. (I don't think I'm the sun!) The moon revolves around the earth. So. I am of the earth. Ergo, the moon revolves around me. That is good enough.

Hungry Hippo.

Lately, I've been dreaming about "Hungry Hungry Hippo." Repeatedly. At least 3 times this week. I don't know why. I never played the game. I was too old to be interested when it was first introduced. I do think it is funny. I wake up thinking, "hungry hungry hippo!" As if this is the answer to some deep and... unanswerable question.

Why is the sky blue?

Hungry Hungry Hippo!

What is the square root of pi?

Hungry Hungry Hippo!

What is the meaning of life?

Hungry Hungry Hippo, of course!

God Posts a Billboard.

Tonight, at the "Burrito Factory" picking up a dinner order, a customer talking to another diner was saying what a great place Sunland is to live. He said, "the people have always been nice, we are a blue collar neighborhood, you know, working class, and it has been great to live here." It is great to live here. It is a working class neighborhood. It is not the West Side. It is not Beverly Hills. It is not even close to Culver City, but it is my home. We bought here because we could afford it and it is close to my parents. Well, my parent now. My mom died a few years ago. I don't necessarily agree with the politics of my latest hometown, but my neighbors are friendly, religious, gracious humble people. But, they are losing their jobs and their health insurance, or having to pay COBRA prices and are scared. They don't know who to believe. They don't know who to vote for. They just don't understand and really just want jobs and affordable health care. They think they are Republican. But, that party keeps betraying them. I know the Democrats don't do any better by them. The two parties are in a battle that no one really cares about. They, WE, just need the system to change. None of us care whether one party or another does it. None of us. Really, I hear it in this little neighborhood. We need help. We can't afford groceries, let alone health care. I now pay over $8,000 a year in health care premiums for me and my husband and my health care is mostly paid for by my union.

When one is less than rich, (I don't want to say "poor," there are far poorer people than we) one worries about the cost, and probably has no plan one can afford, because the less money one has, the more healthcare costs. When one is rich, one has more options. When one is over 65 one has government healthcare called Medicare. Not the rest of us. We struggle. Period. This sucks. Then, there are those rare individuals who have accrued more money than some of us, and worry not about healthcare. They can afford whatever the policy doesn't cover. And, those few seem to have the policies that DO cover that surgery or procedure. They can PAY the premiums. We who cannot are devalued in this country because we don't make the MONEY to contribute to the gross excesses of the insurance companies. I stress money because it seems to be the only important ambition one should have in this country. Making Money? That is what is important? Where we've come to? Really? Not quality of life? Not happiness? Not Art and Music? Science? Theatre? Or just plain old Dreams? Okay, you know what? That sucks.

My life is worth more. (So is yours.)

Look, I've been a big believer in Capitalism. (Big fan of Ayn Rand.) But, I've never believed Capitalism should be as dishonest as it is right now. The cheating and the short-term gains at the expense of one's fellow citizens is horrifying. Who are these people that need THAT much money? Most of them call themselves Christians to boot. What?

I identify myself as a humanist. I believe in people, not some invisible nonsense. (No offense intended, dear reader.) I believe that most people are good and that most people care about each other. I care about my neighbors and my friends and my family. I care about people struggling and try to send help. I believe in this life and the people who populate this life. I am not looking for some strange and amorphous reward later. But, .. I will not build a fortune on the misfortune of others. That is what I think is happening right now. I think there are some (very little) people who see the opportunity to make some quick money off people who have very little control in the world. I call these people politicians. Our elected reps are NOT representing us anymore! Why do they feel they have to "go across the aisle?" Why don't they JUST do what is right? Courage!

DO WHAT IS RIGHT!

Fix the fucking healthcare system. Find a way to stop the wars! We are all suffering! No, we are crying.

Stop fucking around.

God posts a billboard: "QUIT IT"

(stolen from a cartoon by Dan Piraro)

Sometimes...

Sometimes, when I'm sitting alone, I turn my head quickly and I think I see someone or something moving in my peripheral vision. I'm startled every time. Not a ghost, not a phantom and not an hallucination. Hmm. It is the arm of my glasses.

Haiku Attempts.

Late night, but not too.

Worrying, trying not to.

Wishing for a trip. (or two)

Poor attempt at haiku. Adding too many syllables to explain and to be clever. Takes away from the elegance.

Alas, I fear my real poetry days are behind me. What seems to be inescapable for the near future are the needs of my wider family. I will endeavor to address those needs and help as I can. What I sometimes want feels a bit immaterial and unimportant by contrast. (And selfish.) I have spent a good part of October lazy, but have spent days trying to help. Here we are in November, and I really feel like I need to find another job, bring in a bit more money, and continue to invest in the future of the family's kids. This is all good.

What I want is to read the newspaper every day. To walk 2 hours a day and still find the time to read a book. To slowly clean out my closets (reduce! simplify!) and to get rid of all those boxes in the garage we've not looked into in 10 years.

I want to see more theatre.

I don't want to cook Thanksgiving for 30 people (again). I won't do it. I've done it since my mother died and I'm done. I've said as much. (And yet, I find I am already offering cooking advice to the other 28.) I will cook for my husband. I will visit the 28 if I can.

I get tired this time of year. I want to sleep until I wake up. I want to take naps. I sometimes hate when the phone rings. (I sometimes love when the phone rings... I don't have to be consistent, damn it!)

I just want more time.

More time to be there for you.

More time for myself.

Time. The theme of my haikus. The theme of my life, in a way. Time, where does it go and how does the passage of time serve us? And maybe it is all okay anyway.

Enigmas of life

Floating through the firmament

Looking up, we hope.

xo

55, wow.

Halloween night. Some years we have 40 or more kids appearing at our door in costume. (I hand out full sized Butterfingers every year.) This year, fewer of my neighbors are participating and we live on a dead-end street. Usually a good thing, but at Halloween, without the neighbors' lights to draw the kids down the street, most don't make the dark journey. We've seen but a handful. Alas. I so enjoy giving out candy to random costumed children.

My neighborhood likes to dress up for Halloween.

I enjoy wandering past all the houses decked out to receive the kids, or to host a party. It feels like a bit of a throw-back to the early 60's when hundreds of us took to the streets and came home with piles of candy, the occasional toy and (from the local dentist) a brand new toothbrush. I like the tradition. I like to share in it.

I love how inventive my neighbors are.

Here is a particularly scary invention:

What is it about clowns? Really?

I am 55 today. Wow. 25 short years ago, I was only 30. 25 years before that I was ...5 years old. Life is indeed short and goes by so quickly. I like 55. It looks good from here. I don't feel old, by any means, though I think it is funny that I am now considered a "senior." I had lovely calls from my entire family and my closest friends. Most of the nieces and nephews "texted" me. I think that is a riot. I enjoyed the day. I walked (what a surprise.) I shopped and made stew. (It is the perfect Halloween meal and was glorious!) I ordered and bought myself a cake. I am very particular and wanted the cake to be "just right." We will eat it later with some mint chocolate chip ice cream.

I am still waiting for more children. I see them up the block but they just don't turn right, wander down the street and come to me.

My students will get the benefit of so much left over Halloween candy, along with a very critical evaluation of their midterms and the resultant grades.

We ever move forward. I like the journey. I'm interested and happy and intrigued with what comes next. What happens tomorrow? Hmm, what happens later tonight?

Loving the mystery, looking for the joy, and finding my life occasionally magical.

(Two more tiny children showed up from next door. Yes!)

A Cautionary Tale.

I nearly killed us recently. I've been too embarrassed to tell anyone or talk about it with anyone except my husband, who was there. My guilt prevented me from talking about this, but the hard lesson learned is worth sharing.

I got ready for bed one night around midnight, after drinking and smoking cigarettes. I emptied the ashtrays in the garbage can, per usual, put the glass in the kitchen and went to bed. Fell dead asleep. (That is a euphemism, but more apt than I'd like.)

At 3am I woke up hearing a sharp piercing sound coming from the hallway. We'd just replaced the batteries in the smoke detector in my room and I thought, in my haze of sleep, that, oh, gosh, we should have replaced all the detectors' batteries. No! Seconds later, the smoke detector in my room went off. Okay! I finally got up. The house was full of smoke. Hard to see. I didn't turn on any lights, I didn't need to and I was still worried about waking up my husband. I got to the kitchen and saw flames coming up from our garbage can left of underneath the sink. I saw flames. I then called for my husband, but he didn't hear me. I grabbed a bowl and filled it with water 2 or 3 times and doused the flames in the garbage can. The fire was out. The smoke was worse than before. The garbage can was melted beyond use.

The garbage can had melted. The entire house smelled of smoke. The entire house was filled with smoke.

I opened the front door, and woke my dear (confused) husband. As I opened windows and doors the alarms went silent. He and I then went through the house checking everything, and realized, much to my chagrin, that I had thrown out a cigarette still smoking. He admitted to putting newspapers in the trash... a confluence of circumstance. (We always put newspapers in the "blue bin.") But, clearly, my fault. My Fault!

We were okay. It took us until today to get the smoke smell out of the house. We've washed the floors, sanitized the room and today, washed the curtains. There is a point.

Without the smoke detectors both of us would have slept through the incident. Both of us could have died. (He and I have not talked about that. We have talked about losing the house... hmm.)

I never put much stock in smoke detectors before. Clearly, I've just been stupid. I have to say, the complete complement of detectors saved our lives.

Take note.

A cautionary tale.

I walk and I think.

Well. We have a new device that allows us to watch Netflix on our TV with no additional charge from Netflix. This is positively brilliant! We are currently watching (at our leisure) all the Sherlock Holmes Mysteries produced by the BBC with Jeremy Brett. Truly delicious. Direct to the television, very little tech involved, no extra cost to us and positively fabulous. Love technology! Makes each evening very special.

I walk and think. I have pictures again, but maybe I said it all in the last blog. The most moving picture I've taken lately is the very skinny and gray deer we found feeding on someone's property. I took the two pictures and then saw two more deer doing the same thing. The deer are hungry and dispossessed. One more was up on the local hillside. The hills have burned and they have to dare to come down, just to eat. My heart hurts for them.

I walk and I think. I consider people I consider friends. I look at them from all sides. I ponder and wonder who is the real friend and then I find myself calling my husband, just because I miss him. I am on a two hour walk and I miss him. How do I do six months away? An enigma.

I walk and I think. I worry about the people I don't call. I worry about the ones who don't call me. Some I've lost, and some I'll have forever. Like the prodigal son, there are those I'll take back with no questions asked, and then there are some who've stayed around who will have to answer for their sins. Some I love unconditionally. Some I will never lose. Some I will lose and wonder why. But, I will revel in the love I've found, and not ponder too much the love I've lost. Wondering only, if those lost individuals knew I would take them back into my fold with so much as a "how are you?"

My heart is too much on the table and I have to go to bed.

I've said this before and there I am.

Dear Reader,

You know I go on long walks in whatever neighborhood I find myself. Currently, I am walking around my own. (Meaning, I live here. This is MY neighborhood!) I have some wonderful pictures, but my computer is now saying they are all corrupt. My computer has become a critic, I think.

Doesn't matter. We say a picture is worth a thousand words, but perhaps a few words are worth a picture. I'll figure out the picture problem another time, but it does change the theme of my blog.

I wanted to write about the various signs and looks of the neighborhood... the views and vistas, the garden decorations, but maybe my computer is really saying... "Gosh! That is boring!"

What I will then tell you is my neighborhood decorates for EVERY holiday. No, they really do! They of course decorate for Christmas. Some of them leave the Christmas decorations up all year long. Drives me crazy. (I came upon a house today that has hung Halloween pumpkins on the Christmas lights that have been up since last November... geez) (There is a house where the reindeer is sideways on the roof. hmm.) Okay. My neighbors (the ones that actually take down Christmas) decorate for , hmm, let's just go thru the year... Christmas comes down and if they are ambitious, New Years goes up. The next day (I swear) Valentine decorations appear. Then Saint Patrick Day Shamrocks are everywhere. Some neighbors then put up "spring" signs with cute little bears hugging flowers. Easter decorations! Another house I saw the other day had Christmas decorations and Easter decorations all at the same time, all collecting dust. (Remember, this is October!) We head towards Veteran's Day and flags are everywhere. And my neighbors can just leave them up for the 4th of July. August comes and everyone's lawn just dies and nobody decorates. But, then.. September comes and the flags come out again. Bet you didn't know it was National Chicken Month! Oh, gosh, then Halloween. Big time decorations. Whole yards dedicated to scaring the local children. (Yeah, sorry, I do participate in that.) Halloween is over, then turkeys show up in the local yards. Unbelievable and charming in its own way. Gosh almighty... finally, my neighbors don't have to spend any time putting up Christmas. They just finally get to turn on the lights.

Crazy. And, somehow endearing.

I heard from someone from my summer of theatre today. I missed her. I miss them all. But not yet enough to go back. I am enjoying this moment in time. I feel like I should write it like this: {time} Time spent somewhere else.

And there I am.

The pumpkin.

I Will Wear My Tiara.

Pumpkins... and October! My father used to call me "pumpkin." Only because I was born on Halloween. So "pumpkin" worked. (Yes, I've looked like a pumpkin once or twice in my life... I'm struggling to never fit that profile again.)

I went to the farmer's market in Mission Hills in "The Valley" today, just to buy corn. Fresh picked. I ended up buying tomatoes and nectarines right off the tree. Too good. We had a GREAT dinner tonight, all fresh and all tasty and clean. I love clean food. I'm sure I will write a blog about that at some other time.

I've been watching Albert Brooks films recently. Oh, my gosh! So funny and moving. We saw "Defending Your Life" last night, and watched "Mother" tonight. I've pulled "Lost in America" for tomorrow. (I own them all.) What a brilliant humorist. What a brilliant writer. Too entertaining, and heart moving. Where is he now?

Good heavens, it is hot tonight.

I recently listened to the "greatest hits" of Steppenwolf. They had 2 or 3 great songs. The rest is CRAP. What a realization!

I know I don't talk much about what is happening in the world. I am aware, I just choose not to dwell. I feel like local news has become a police blog, and the world news ignores the very real issues we all face every day. I think congress has lost complete touch with the people who elected them, and I am not holding out any hope for real change. (I suspect congress will just make things worse, despite our constant protests and letters.)

I like October. I foresee the Santa Ana Winds. (I hate the winds, but, I understand them!) I look forward to the night the children knock on my door looking for candy. (I always buy full sized Butter Fingers. We are very popular on our block and I get to see all the costumes!)

My birthday is Halloween. Yes, every year. My favorite dinner is my beef stew. (I will cook it myself, thank-you.) My favorite activity is putting out pumpkins and handing out candy. I will wear my tiara.

.

The Luckiest Person On The Planet.

So much. This week has been full of so much. We bought the car for my niece. With the help of a fairly patient salesman who looked out for the car we really wanted we bought her a 2008 Kia Spectra with just 30,000 miles on it, in black as she wanted. I have to say, it is a beautiful car, still under warranty and safer than anything I drove as a teenager. Success! My beautiful niece in turn learned a lot about buying a car, safety in the car, dealing with salesmen, and negotiation. All in all, a good experience. (I am closer to her than ever and that makes my heart sing flowers.)

My brother dropped by last night because he'd been missing my husband. My husband is not always able to come to family gatherings, and my brother needed to see him. Love that. Love that the love sometimes just takes over and an individual recognizes a private visit has to take place. It is all about keeping the love and the friendship in place. It doesn't matter that one is sick. One still has to visit .. one.

Aside from the fact that I have completely bonded with my niece, my sister and I have spent some great time together, negotiating the car, putting the funds together, having lunch, buying her boyfriend a birthday gift, getting a gift for the poor ignored 13 year old... marvelous and engaging and exhausting. I love it. I love them. Another dimension where I'm able to participate. No theatre at all.

Do I miss theatre? Yeah. But not yet. I've yet to spend time with my husband. My side of the family needs me too. He and I will find time, it just hasn't happened yet. People ask me why I'm not looking for work... I have work. I have a quality of life to maintain. I have people I love who need me, and now, back in LA, I need to answer those needs. It is satisfying. It is the work I've left undone for 6 months. I'm back.

I want to sit in the backyard. I want to find a way to pay for a landscaper. I want to spend time with my husband and my friends. I want to see the redwoods again and the wild world that is right here in California. Ah, my dreams.

I've had a great 4 year run at the Old Globe in San Diego. I have promised them one more year. But, things have changed. I will wait and see. I will wait and see. In the meantime, I've my 84 year old father to look after, I've my husband, I've my sisters and my brother and my many nieces and nephews who need attention too. I've my friends.. (Nansi? Fred? Jimmie? Paul? Charlie? Michael? Darko? George?) My life is full.

I don't have much money, but I may be the luckiest person on the planet.

And Yet...

Late night and trying to keep the cigarette smoke from invading the bedroom where my husband is sleeping. I've spent a bit of wonderful time with my niece and her mother (and occasionally my nephew) trying to buy a car for my dear 17 year old niece. Mom and I want safe. She wants tinted windows, a spoiler and a black car that will fit her surfboard. Money is of course an issue. How does one know how to trust a car salesman? We research, they respond. We complain and demand and they promise the moon. We wait in anticipation and the 17 year old wants that car! No, honey, let's see what tomorrow turns up. (I promised her a car by Christmas. We will probably get the car next week.)

Moments in life. How wonderful to share in it. My dear niece has learned more in these two days about navigating life than school ever taught her. So cool and so good. I tell my own students I can't teach them how to do the job, I can only give them the tools. One has to go out and live it! And learn it by doing.

Do I miss stage managing? Well. I needed a break, but I always miss calling a show. (LOL it is my calling.)

No, clearly I've needed the rest. I've been sleeping 10 hours a night. I am always tired in October.

And October! What a great month. The world is liquid and colorful and the sun has such a different attitude. It is sly and soothing and absent and present. Fall in Los Angeles is very distinctive if one has lived here for any length of time. (I still walk in flip-flops, but I wear long pants.)

The house is silent. I have to teach tomorrow. I revel in the solitude and yet...

And Then.. I Dream.

Ok. I am ready to talk again. I was alternately watching NOVA and Madmen. NOVA was by far the better program. I've hesitated to say this because I have a very close colleague who writes for Madmen. I don't know anyone at PBS. I am trying to like my friend's work. Yet, I am engrossed by the info about black holes.

I find something new at Nova. Well, not new, but more detailed than what I'd heard. I like the detail. I like the science. I don't care about the 1950's anymore. Homophobic, misogynistic and something I've lived through and don't care to revisit.

I've been traveling. I've been searching. It is all internal. I am home and too tired to completely unpack, I just want to be here for a bit. I just want to do nothing.

Impossible. We all have to get up each day eventually. We all have to face the day. We have to eat. We have to relate. We can't just stay in bed and, what.. dream?

No. I have been walking.

As many people before me have discovered, the closer one gets to the mountain, the more the mountain becomes invisible.

The valley below grows. The mountain disappears. (but the valley is BIGGER!) The what we've left behind increases each season. The looking back can become too distracting. Looking ahead, we are climbing the mountain we can no longer see and all that is visible is the endless sky and (perhaps) the Mohave. The future.

I live here.

These are purely physical observations. Take from it what you will.

Ultimately, we reach the mountain top. It is unbelievably breathtaking. And.. We descend.

When I turned 40, my mother said, "Welcome to the other side of the mountain." The climb was hard, the descending has been good.

I still think about the black hole at the center of the universe. I still wonder at the nature of the universe. I have questions and answers, should anyone care to ask. I still love my work and my students, after all this time. But I do wonder. I wonder.

And then, I dream.

I'll be back.

My dear readers... I again will be with you soon. I have pictures and stories, but I am so tired from the summer and I am so enjoying spending time with my husband that I can barely check email. Facebook has become cursory. I have class tomorrow. After that? Well, I should go see Dad-O, and my niece, then, maybe I'll get back to you all. Soon.

xo.

Dear Diary.

Gosh, sometimes it takes so long to get here. The internet can be amazing and frustrating. Have you noticed? And why are we in such a hurry?

I currently have a job that involves me going to work once a week but takes a couple of hours of prep pre job. I don't want to do it. I want to do nothing. I want and need to rest. I love teaching when I am there, but I don't like the time it takes to correct papers and drive. I am tired. I have recently turned down 3 requests to stage manage the same! show (they keep changing producers) that is right up my alley. I need to rest. I need to cook for my husband. I need to fix my yard.

I volunteered many months ago to help my 17 year old niece find a car. Oh, gosh. Now I need to do this. I want her to have all the protections a dealership offers, but we don't have (maybe) quite enough money saved. Her mom just lost her nursing job. Okay! How bad is the economy when a nurse can't find a job?

My dear husband continues his fight against his disease. Maybe this is all too personal, but as my husband pointed out, this has become my diary.

Goodnight, Dear Diary.

Home.

As I took my first walk back home, I came to a realize Sunland has but two seasons. Hot and Cold. Right now we are in the "Hot" season. We will have few days of "Mild" before "Cold" season starts. When we are in "Hot" season we try to remember to appreciate the "Cold" season and vice-versa. I don't mean we get fevers in the summer or colds in the winter. I mean the temperature right now is hovering around 90. Sometime in January it will get down to the high 20s. Really. (And, Southern Californians that we are, we get cold if the temp drops below about 62 degrees.)

I walked past a house with the oddest collection of flowers. The colors were bright and varied. There was something about it that was just "off." On closer inspection, I noticed yellow tulips five feet high and out of season flowers blooming in the heat. The owners of this particular home had "planted" silk flowers. The tulips had been tied to a taller vine. The bush closest to me was already turning a little gray from the sun. Weird and a bit remarkable.

I saw one of my neighbors waving frantically in greeting as he drove past.

I was saddened by the ashen mountains overlooking my wandering.

I came up the driveway and was greeted by my loving husband.

So good to be home. (Now, if I can just get unpacked!)

Until we meet again.

See ya! I'm going home. Love and happy trails to one and all. I will sit in my backyard and eat cheese and drink wine. I will remember. I will look forward. New challenges await for us all. Let us then be full of joy to have been part of something so magical and perfect. Let us all seek for that again. Life is, after all, about the journey. We will travel part of it again together some day. I know it. We are part of the smallest community and we are all one and the same. No tears, just a "until we meet again."

xo

The Last Long Look.

Hot tonight. Another closing party going on upstairs. I attended briefly, but they have a cat, and I'm just too allergic.

I say goodbye only to people I don't expect to see again. I don't say goodbye to theatre people. I know I will see them again. We are just too small a community. We like each other (mostly) too much. Some of us actually live fairly close to each other... elsewhere.

One last show. One final Cyrano... then mad packing (and by definition) unpacking, later. One last closing party. One kiss to the wind. One last long look backward.

And now the future. Looking forward. Wondering and full of hope and looking forward.

The Most Boring Blog Ever.

My cast is wandering around looking for a party. Not at my apartment thank-you. We do still have 2 more shows. It ain't over yet!

I'm trying to eat up the food in my apartment rather than buy more food, and the food I have has all become so unappealing. I keep thinking about vacuuming, then I think, why bother? The cleaning crew will be in to shampoo the carpets on Monday, after I leave. I will do laundry tomorrow, so I can have clean clothes to take home. I will clean the bathroom, because I don't want the cleaning crew thinking evil things about me. Oh, hell, I'll vacuum too.

Oh Gosh! This is the most boring blog ever! Next I'm going to be talking about the oven, and maybe how I should stick my head in it! "Jeez-Oh-Man! Who Really Cares?" she asks herself, and then laughs a secret laugh.

I must retrieve my shattered eloquence.

{Time Passes}

My director just dropped by, looking for a party. Sure hope there is one!

{Time Passes}

Am I mute? Do I really have nothing to share? I have a million thoughts running around naked, but I can't put them into any semblance of a sentence.

It just took me 10 minutes to figure out how to spell "semblance."

Do I get stupid as shows end? Or just lazy? It is true that all I really want to do (is talk to you) no, all I really want to do is lie on the couch and watch mindless television.

Boring, see! I warned you!

{Time Passes!}

I have a dummy in my apartment. Really... a life sized child puppet thing. Too complicated to explain. (Though, that might be a more interesting story...) It is going to freak me out in the middle of the night, I just know it.

{Time Passes}

I'm gonna go wander around and look for a party.

{Time Passes and I'm still here.}

Yikes. It is a really good thing I am going home. CLEARLY, it is time.

(The dummy, just now, completely turned me around and scared me, oh! and where did I put down the vodka?)

Endings.

My performance report tonight (edited only to exclude actor/designer names):

"We had a wild and wonderful performance this evening. Sir Andrew made me laugh, out loud, throughout the show, on headset, calling cues. It felt a little like a Marx Brothers Film. (In a good way.) Orsino's Guy #4 got a gasp and a little applause for his flip off the bridge.

We started off with a music rehearsal when it was warm with a chance of bugs.

By the end of the evening we had major fog rolling in from the ocean clouding Act 5. (The lighting designer) would have loved this, his light shafts were all clearly visible. The fog also meant the planes took off over our stage instead of over the ocean, so a lot of air traffic noise this evening.

Standing Ovation."

Did I mention we perform on an outdoor stage? See what fun this is? See why I am torn about leaving? One of each show left. 3 total and we are done. Endings. I know there is something new already beginning, but right now, sitting in an apartment that will belong to someone else in 4.5 days, I can see only endings.

I'm Off!

I can't find my glasses, I've lost my jump drive, I need to take a shower and clean this apartment, so of course, instead, I'm wasting time, writing my blog.

My feelings have been so ambivalent lately, I have not felt much like writing. I am longing to be home. I am loathe to say goodbye. I am tired, and I have boundless energy. I look at the books I didn't read this summer, the gift certificate to a massage I probably won't use, the sorting and packing I've left to the last minute and wonder where the time went.

The dichotomy is 6 months is a really long time. 6 months is no time at all, and flew by. However, I'm more ready to go than I don't feel like leaving. Convoluted and flawed sentence construction, but indicative of my inner thoughts and feelings.

I know what to do, right now. I am getting up, getting into the shower. I will take out the garbage. I will make the bed and meet my boss for lunch. I will go have coffee later this afternoon with my director. I will nap and I will call a show. A full day.

I'm off.

Talk Like A Pirate!

Poetry, Art, and Silliness all have clear and stable places in my consciousness. Today is "International Talk Like a Pirate Day." Really! Argh, and avast ye maties. (That is the extent of my pirate talk. I'm sure I'll hear more tomorrow. The little kids know about it. Keith Olbermann knows about it. Many of my company members do too.) Weird little "holiday" made possible by the internet, no doubt. Love it. Love the complete randomness of it and how utterly silly it is.

These communal efforts to play bring joy to our lives. I just joined "Mafia Wars" on facebook. Never thought I would, but my beautiful nephew invited me and I just don't know how to say "no" to him. Apparently I'm still playing "Vampires" because someone attacked me and I lost. There exists a whole other universe, a virtual place, I know very little about. I stand at the edge of a galaxy in this new, utterly strange arena and wonder at the inventive nature of our species. We PLAY. We want to PLAY. One of my sisters and I, when very young, used to spell it out so the younger sister wouldn't know where we were disappearing to. We'd say "wanna P. L. A. Y.?" then we'd hold up our hands and make the "OK" symbol. A little mean, but she was two and didn't really care to be away from Mom and the new baby.

We grow up and we still want to play. We play golf. (Well, not me.) We play tennis. We play badminton or volleyball. I don't really need to go through all the sports... we play scrabble and other board games. (My other nephew would say "bored" games. He plays video games.) We play cards and word games and horseshoes. We play in the pool. We play with our pets and our children. We play piano and guitar. We play with ourselves and each other. (Sorry, had to say it.) We go to plays. We do plays. We are players, all.

Playing is part and parcel of who we are. We are frantic to play.

I think this is good. I think playing keeps us on the road to happiness. We take pleasure in a group game or activity. We relax, or compete, or watch and enjoy. We grow and learn through playing, just like children or lion cubs.

Playtime. Okay, sometimes I prefer "nap time" but only because I have such interesting and entertaining dreams. I wake up refreshed, ready to go do my play. Tonight is Cyrano. What a gift. My work is a Play!

(I do appreciate the fact that much of this blog is a play on words. See how many ways we can play? Astounding.)

Okay. So today. PLAY! Talk like a Pirate. (Lights 204 Go, Argh!)

When We Are Lucky.

My Cast is a little melancholy. The end is near. 10 days left. 9 shows. Some of us were chatting after Coriolanus tonight about what a great company, and what great company we've been. No drama, except on the stage. We all like each other. We work and play well together. We'll miss this.

And this too shall pass. All things do. Even the good things. So, we'll say goodbye and look to the next challenge. In the meantime, we will enjoy what we've created together and hope to work together again one day. Bittersweet. (I still miss people from my first Rep, four years ago.)

I am hoping I will find the time and interest to continue my blog when I return home. This blog has been a great outlet for me, exploring the random nature of my thoughts, recording them and rereading what those days held for me. It is all so ephemeral. Like Time. Like a dream I once had.

It is like a dream. In this case, a really really good dream. I will feel that way when I've unloaded my car of 6 months worth of memories and clothes. It will feel like I am returning from a long sleep. I am ready. I am ready to return to my life, my love, my home.

When I did Angels on Broadway, I remember thinking "I am so glad I am doing this. I am so very happy on Broadway. The community is fantastic, the experience truly awesome." But... I hated living in that city. I felt trapped. I couldn't see enough sky, or enough forest. The streets smelled funny and funky. (Central Park is not a forest. It is a park, albeit a very large park. The East River is not the Pacific, hell, it is not even an ocean!) I am very much a California Girl. I wished the year away, wanting to remember living it, instead of actually living it. (I mean, I did live it, I just was unhappy and alone.)

I am alone a lot here too. But somehow it is okay. The sun, my quest for the sea, the proximity to home make San Diego a better fit for me. I know every theatre professional wants to do Broadway. I've done it. Okay? I've done Broadway 3 times. And I've done Radio City too. I've done NY. I just want to visit now. Or get paid a lot of money to come work on a great project for a couple of months. About the length of my tolerance for NYC.

London was a bit better. It felt like a cleaner New York. Honestly, LA does not feel like a city. (We live in a suburb. LA is a collection of suburbs.) San Francisco is my favorite city. Beautiful and small. Clean and perfect. San Diego is a bigger city than one might expect. It feels larger than San Francisco, I don't actually know... it just feels bigger. San Diego would be perfect, except for the politics of the place. Maybe I just prefer the space I'm afforded in Los Angeles. City folk have no concept of space. I have room in LA. I have a room in San Diego. And, my San Diego apartment is about 3 times the size of my NY apartment, which was larger than my flat in London. (If I opened the bed I couldn't open the front door. I had to leave the bathroom door open at night because of the same problem. I had to back in to the bathroom because it was so narrow. Okay, I was heavier, then. Leave me alone!) The point? Different concepts of space.

So, what am I really talking about here? Space and Time. I knew it! I should have been a theoretical physicist or a mathematician. (I was once a Math Major. hmm.)

I will live in Los Angeles because it is what makes me happy, and, like most people in my profession, I will travel for work. We are all peripatetic, we are all gypsies. It is the nature of the business. It has to be okay. I will return and live at home when I can, and work where work calls to me or needs me.

Life is and has to be good; it is what we make it so. And (for my best friend), "Tomorrow is the first day of the rest of your life."

We travel; we travel through time and space. When we are lucky, we travel through time and space together.

The Story of the Cyst.

I had a very minor surgery today. But still... surgery! I had a cyst removed. 8 stitches. It had become infected last week and I didn't want to run the risk of infection again. CUT IT OUT! GET THAT THING OUT OF ME!

Gross, the things that grow willy-nilly on one's body. Nobody knows why. The pressure bandage itches but otherwise all seems well. The hand-out post-operative instructions said to avoid smoking and drinking while recovering. Yeah, that's gonna happen. Hey, I know how to keep it clean. I know how to change the dressing and I know how to assess the site's general appearance and speed of recovery. I won't take aspirin for a couple of days. Worry not.

I have to say the medicality (made up word) all interests me. I made the nurse show me the excised cyst. I had to see it. She said, "We're not supposed to show it to you, but..." She must of seen my face. Like I was gonna take "no" for an answer. It used to be a part of my body, for gosh's sake. Show me!

Interesting. Far bigger than the doctor or I'd been lead to believe by its surface appearance. It looked like a marble-sized ball of fat. The doctor sent it off to a pathologist. Good. Means the insurance company will pay for the excision.

I've seen my gall bladder, my dad was the pathologist when I'd had it removed, took a picture and gave me the stones ...I had the stones for a while, until I decided that perhaps it was just a little grotesque and morbid to keep them. (Interesting growing up with Pathologist Dad. Like living with Quincy... or if you are too young.. like living near/in the morgue in CSI.)

There exists a certain curiosity about all things the body creates and produces. Well, at least with me. I want to keep my eyes open. I want to learn. I don't want to be "grossed out" by.. what really is just nature. I think knowing helps to accept and calm, not only me, but anyone else who may end up with a similar issue. I can then be more empathetic, knowledgeable and ultimately helpful.

We can't shirk from our own when they encounter a condition that is unappealing. We need to disengage from the "gag" reflex and help. See the problem and help to fix it. (Especially if that assistance means saying..."Oh, my gosh! See a doctor!") I did and now I will be fine. This was a little adventure. Very personal, but there you are. Really, just a part of life, and maybe just a symptom of growing older. It has to be okay, because, there it is.

Soon. My stitches will be taken out by my doctor in LA. That is how soon. I will be home soon. It is time.

R E S P E C T

Dispensing with the last bit of business, the counter is clearly inaccurate, or maybe accurate due to my title "Labor Day 2009". I could see how that could give me a lot of hits, but since only one dear soul commented I am encouraged to seek out the other nine I'd like to view the blog. And, I feel safe again.

That said, let us talk about respect. How about a little respect "for the office?" Isn't that what we heard all through the "Bush" years? And Now? Really? Yelling out at a presidential speech? How incredibly rude. How not American. How rude and British.

I have found that respect is a thing we all look for, but may not earn. One has to EARN respect. One earns respect by doing the work better than anyone else. Treating people better than anyone else. Caring. And then, one has to OWN it. It is hard. It is about taking full responsibility. The lesser will always criticize and argue. The lesser will make excuses. The lesser will blame someone else. The lesser will yell in frustration. The lesser will not get the job next time. (We did it in this last election... though we may need to rethink, at the midterms.)

In Theatre there is something to be said about being a "company member." Working with the whole to create the art. We do this together. We have the same goal. We want it to be right. We have a hierarchy that works most of the time. Maybe government could take a lesson from theatre. Look at what we do. We finally make decisions - on a time table. We care and we perform. We give our constituents, the audience, a complete and well thought-out product. We put our hearts and souls into this. We (mostly) like each other. Learn from us. We do this nightly.

The Counter Redux

Okay. I lied when I said I'd deleted my counter. I keep it so I can see how many people are reading my blog. I just delete it from the bottom of the article. Well, tonight I looked, stunned and reloaded the page but the same number appeared. Really? No, this has to be a glitch. NO fucking way. I've been struggling to get 10 people to read my blog, and I'm not sure I want nearly 12,000. Kinda scary. Feel like I need to be more careful. Kinda intimidated. (I have acute stage fright.)

My last number was in the high 200's. What happened? Please comment if you read me. I gotta know if this number is real. It has emptied my head of anything I wanted to say tonight.

And, tonight, was very interesting.

Free Counter

Labor Day, 2009.

Labor Day is crazy. One would think it was the last chance for the country to party. Ever. Okay, I get it. The end of summer. (Well, not in California, and not really anywhere for a couple of weeks at least.) We decided to go for a drive. We found ourselves at the bridge that crosses the San Diego Bay and leads to Coronado Island. I haven't been there in oh, 25 years or more. First, let me say, the bridge is scary to drive. It is really high! Yikes! Can't imagine how they built that! Then... on this beautiful island, traffic. Traffic everywhere. Don't know what I expected, since it was Labor Day. I just don't register Monday holidays. I don't think about holiday traffic. Since my day off is Monday anyway, I think of it like just another day. Fool, I.

We drove around the Coronado Hotel. The very famous hotel. We caught glimpses of the Pacific, we found zero parking. Had to get out of there! We drove to the opposite side of the island. Still a lot of people, but relatively far fewer. Finally, a parking space walking distance to the bay. Finally a place to stop and walk on a little grass at a park commemorating the location of the now defunct ferry. (They closed it when the bridge opened in 1969)

Clearly, the Pacific Ocean is the attraction on Coronado Island, not the reverse look at Downtown San Diego. I was glad. We had the cool breeze. We watched a father and his kids fly a kite shaped like a Spanish Galleon. (How did that thing get up in the air?) We saw the water and a couple of small beaches. We saw at least 30 sailboats, and 2 jet skis. Very entertaining. We sat under a gazebo. (My mom used to call them "gaze - bos." She said, "Well, that's how it's spelled!") We looked at Downtown San Diego from the other side. It was pretty and pleasant. Just enough people. We wondered why everybody else had to be on the Pacific. It will still be there tomorrow. And next Tuesday. And, I suspect it will still be there when the everybodies have their next day off. Ah, but this day was LABOR DAY. The last day of summer. The last chance to party ever.

Do people know why we celebrate Labor Day? It was originally a day to celebrate the contributions made to this country by Labor Unions and Organizations and the American Worker. (The AFL: American Federation of Labor.) Begs the question. Why do Republicans get to celebrate Labor Day? Seems a little anathema to that party's policies.

Labor Day is not the end of summer. It is not the last chance to party ever. It isn't even the last excuse to party this year. (Like Americans need a reason to party.) We have Halloween coming up pretty quickly. On it's tail is Veteran's Day. Have you forgotten the holiday clearly designed so you can over-eat all day, and watch football? Do you remember Thanksgiving is more than drinking too much because you are annoyed with your family? Oh, then the rush to Christmas and a week later, New Year's Eve. Not necessarily in order is President's Day, (Saint) Valentine's Day, MLK Day, My friend Jimmie's Birthday, The Ides of March, Saint Patrick's Day, Mardi Gras, Easter, Mother's Day, Father's Day, Memorial Day, Independence Day... oh, then Summer.... AGAIN.

America! You can party tomorrow. You've invented countless reasons to. How about stopping for a sec. and appreciating the why behind the holiday. Or even the why behind the party? No one thanked me on Labor Day for working so hard, (for free, mind you) for my union. I don't really care if you thank me or not, but Labor Day is set aside exactly for people like me. Union workers. That is the point. Do you remember to thank veterans on Veteran's Day? Do you remember to remember our war dead on Memorial Day? Do you even know who St. Patrick was? (He chased the snakes out of Ireland - even though the scientific record shows there were never any snakes in Ireland. But a good reason to drink green beer, huh?)

It just all gets so silly.

So, we left Coronado Island about an hour after we arrived. We came home to my little apartment near Balboa Park and I put out hummus and celery and spinach pizza from Trader Joe's. A little cheese. We elected to stay in for the rest of the day. We chatted. We watched t.v. We had take-out. We went to bed early. It was kinda perfect.

Labor Day. I had a very nice day.

Thoughts and a Paul Simon Quote.

Poker game tonight next door. No, I don't play, but I do appreciate the actors again spending time together. Three more weeks and we are done. We have 8 Twelfth Nights, 6 Cyranos and 5 Coriolanuses (that looks weird, what is the plural of Coriolanus?), left to perform. Not very many. Kinda sad.

This has been my most favorite company ever. The cast and crew are generous supportive people. They all honestly like each other. I like them. I would work with them all forever if I could. A true REP company. We did it. It took 6 years (I've been here the last 4 years) but we figured out the right mix of people and product. So, of course, next year we will fuck with it. Oh, it will be a new adventure with lovely new people, no doubt, but it will never be this wondrous thing again. It will never be this mix. This perfection. As I've said before, I'm a little sad it is nearly over.

I will return to my Sunland life September 28. It will take a bit of adjusting and a lot of sleep. I will get lost on the way to the bathroom in the middle of the night. I'll try to get out of bed on the wrong side. I won't remember my way around the local grocery store. 5 months 3 weeks is a long time to be away from home. (I make the opposite adjustment when I move to San Diego.)

I'll be with my husband. I'll see my dad. I'll see more of my family. I'll be back in my own kitchen, far larger than this apartment's. I'll cook for my friends and family. I'll water the lawn and read the hard copy of the paper.

My husband will do the dishes.

I'll have my crispy mountains. I'll have my long hilly walks. I'll chat with my neighbors who have nothing to do with theatre. I'll be more immediately involved with my union. I'll be better prepared to teach my class. I'll casually look for other work and not really worry about it. I'll drink a margarita in the middle of the week, outside, in my own backyard.

I'll be home.

"Homeward bound.

Home, where my thoughts escaping

Home, where my musics playing

Home, where my love lies waiting

Silently for me."