A Seizure Waiting To Happen

As I mentioned a post or two ago, teachers are already back at work here in HumidityLikeABrickWall. A lot of changes have taken place in my school since summer break. A lot of classes were shuffled around; we got a lot of new staff members; and a lot of maintenance was done on the grounds while we were away. We got some technological upgrades, and some building beautification projects were done.

One that went horribly, horribly wrong was the ladies' room near my new classroom. Before, the bathroom was your typical institutional bathroom: tile walls and floor, steel stall, gurgling toilet. It was painted in nondescript colors, and it was always slightly dusty-smelling. Like I said, your typical elementary school bathroom. By virtue of being an adults-only bathroom, it at least was not subjected to the constant pervasive smell of urine like the kids' toilets. Most adults have better aim. *Most* adults.

After lunch on Monday (and a 32oz. glass of lemonade), I developed a need to use the facilities and went down the hall. Upon entering the bathroom, however, the need to go suddenly evaporated. I was so shocked by the changes that all thoughts of evacuation left me. Some of us may go to the bathroom for a few minutes to calm down, or it may be the one chance during the day that we get to ourselves -- how can they *do* this to us?!

All I could think, with the paint job and the flickering fluorescent lighting, was: "This is a seizure waiting to happen." Either that, or someone watches *waaaay* too much Nickelodeon. I was horrified beyond the need to pee. And that's saying something.



I'm now scared to go to the bathroom. I guess I'll just have to hold it until I get home.

Tales Of Asshattery

On Wednesday, I decided I needed a haircut before wild animals started nesting in the mess on top of my cranium. I headed to one of the local malls to the Hair Cuttery Place. When I arrived, there was a Cheerleader Type at the sign-in desk, paying her bill. To my right, there was Young Redneck checking out his haircut in the mirror. He finished scrutinizing the back of his head (with the aid of well-placed mirrors) and slouched up to the desk.

I should have known when he butted in front of me, invading my personal space, that he was TRULY a high class kind of guy. He began to badger the girl about why her paying was taking so long. Cheerleader Type is scrounging on the bottom of her handbag for coins to pay their bill as she grumbles about why the bill was so high. The stylist/desk clerk looks a mite pissed as all this unfolds.

The two grumble a bit, but eventually turn and walk out of the salon. When I step up to the desk to sign in, I notice that Cheerleader Type has left her straw purse on the counter. I tell the clerk, and she and I both call out to CT that she's left her bag, and she stomps back in to get it.

The other stylist is working VERY slowly on the person in front of her, peering out into the hall to watch the pair's departure. A scant minute after the duo leave, the Young Redneck marches back into the store and asks the stylist/desk clerk how he can go about getting a refund. Huh? The stylist/desk clerk tells YR that their corporate policy is not to give out cash refunds, and she hands him a business card. She tells him to call the number on the back -- their corporate office -- and they will tell him how to get his money back. He is not pleased with this news, and at this point, Cheerleader Type comes barrelling back into the store, demanding that the stylist/desk clerk open the cash drawer and give them their money back. When the s/dc repeats that they just don't do that, the CT huffs, "We'll just go get a security guard."

What good is a mall rent-a-cop going to do? Just imagine -- all that power, people! Anyway, they storm off, *again*, and the Slow Stylist finishes up with the client in her chair. A few minutes later, the Trailer Park Twins are back with a security guard in tow. They all stand in the salon entryway, and the TPT tell MallCop that they were not satisfied with Young Redneck's haircut, and that s/dc refused to give them a refund. At this point, s/dc leaves her client to come to the desk. The way she tells the story to the MallCop is quite different from the Trailer Park Twins' version.

Stylist/Desk Clerk explains that when the two came in, the YR requested "a $7 haircut." When the Slow Stylist explained that they did not *have* a $7 haircut, YR says that someone named "Jessica" always cuts his hair, and that she only charges him $7. Both stylists attempt to tell him that no one at their location is named Jessica, and sorry -- men's haircuts cost $13.95. He asks if maybe he could sweep the floor or something for a cut in the price. No go... $13.95. Slow Stylist starts to cut his hair, but he keeps complaining, and telling her she's not doing it right, so she asks the Stylist/Desk Clerk to take over. Apparently, YR is happy with neither stylist's efforts, and continues to complain.

The Cheerleader Type, who must be his girlfriend (since he keeps calling her "baby" and "babe") also gets a haircut, but she seems satisfied with hers. She goes to the desk to pay for both haircuts while YR checks himself out in the mirror and grouses. (This was when I arrived.) Cheerleader Type must not have had enough to pay for the bill, hence the dredging up of coins from every corner of that pocketbook.

MallCop says that the pair complains that the Stylist/Desk Clerk refused to help them or to refund a bad haircut. S/DC calmly explains to MallCop that it is their corporate policy that they not make refunds out of the till, that complaints have to be routed through the corporate office, who then decide if the situation warrants it. Nothing can be done until the manager gets notice from corporate to refund a customer. S/DC tells the MallCop that she gave the girl a card with the corporate phone number on it, and that complaints and requests for refunds have to be processed through the main headquarters, and not in individual salons.

YR struts around, crowing about how he's been coming to that particular salon for 12 years, and that he's never had such bad service. He tells MallCop that he's just not satisfied with his hair, and he wants it to be made right. Miss PerkyTits, on the other hand, complains that she wants to talk to the manager. S/DC tells her that the manager is not available because she's out on maternity leave. This does not please her, so she states that she's not leaving the store until she has her cash back in hand. S/DC calls the manager, and starts telling her the story. One fact that she relates that I was not present for was that the original total of their bill was $38.90, and that CT didn't have enough to pay that amount, so S/DC did them a favor by scanning in a 20% off coupon code. CT managed to scrape together this amount, and they paid and left. MallCop begins to understand that the Trailer Park Twins are pissed that the haircuts took every last red cent they had, and are now trying to recoup some of their money. Basically, they want something for nothing.

The two get more and more frazzled the longer they stand there, and at one point CT demands that both stylists refund them personally out of their tip money. That's when MallCop decides to give them the shuffle off to Buffalo. He tells them that they can either follow the steps outlined by S/DC, or they can file a complaint to go to small claims court. Yeah. They choose to leave. YR mutters something about going to get something to eat. My wonder was if they didn't have enough to pay the bill, where was money for a meal going to come from? The MallCop hangs around for a bit to make sure that they don't come back. Slow Stylist tells MallCop that she thinks YR was high. That would definitely explain the belligerence.

You know, I understand when you've not gotten what you paid for -- I've had a couple of haircuts that I was not altogether thrilled with -- but you just don't go to that salon anymore. You don't leave a tip, and you make future appointments elsewhere. These two were simply looking for something for nothing. The *only* thing in their favor was that they did not swear like hooligans at the stylists. Maybe they did learn something from their mothers after all.

Back to the Daily Grind

Today was the first day back at school for teachers here in HumidityLikeABrickWall. Can you hear the joy dripping from my fingertips as I write that?

I slept about two hours last night, fighting my yearly "night owl readjusts to work schedule" battle. I was a mite tired today, and finally asked Juggling Freak to oblige me with a 30-minute catnap before making dinner this evening.

I hate the end of summer vacation, though I will appreciate the raise that will come with the dawning of a new school year. There's a lot to be done in the week before students arrive... On tomorrow's to-do list: die cut pieces for my door display, find a small bookshelf for my storybooks, die cut buses for cubby tags, and go through the mounds of crap in my bottom desk drawer and get rid of a lot of it.

Thursday is Open House for Offspring. We'll be attending to get her bus assignment and bus arrival time. Until then, she's marking time on the couch with her laptop and her last few hours of freedom.

Now, if we could only get rid of the torrential rain, we'd be good.

Woe! Vacation Has Ended!

Offspring and I take a quick breather before riding the Maelstrom in Norway.

Juggling Freak meets his idol, Donald Duck. And, a Mexican Donald, at that!

We're back from Disney World, which was great as always, thanks for asking. We had a fairly successful onslaught against the teeming crowds -- the day we went to EPCOT was great. The weather was overcast and a bit windy, so it not only kept the crowds at bay, it also kept us from broiling like chickens. We started the day there with a ride on the newly refurb-ed Spaceship Earth, and then quickly on to Mission: Space and Soarin'. All rocked, I'm happy to report.

It was most crowded at Hollywood Studios (formerly MGM Studios) because everyone was attempting to ride Toy Story's Midway Mania. We rode it twice, and it was very entertaining. Juggling Freak won the family point spread the first ride through, and I won it the second go-round. My prize for winning was a virtual stuffed beaver. There's a joke in there, somewhere, but I'll be genteel, and not make it.)

Magic Kingdom day was good -- had very little wait time at Buzz Lightyear, and we got a Fastpass for Space Mountain that had us right on the ride, bypassing a 45 minute stand-by line. I love Fastpass! The update to Haunted Mansion was great! (It was closed for rehab when we went last year, so that was a bummer, but it was well worth the wait!) Other highlights of that day were Pirates (always a blast) and the Tomorrowland Transit Authority. The TTA used to be known as the People Mover, and I've always loved that ride.

Animal Kingdom was hot and humid, as always. Most of the time, riding Kilimanjaro Safaris is problematical -- the animals hide out when it's too hot. They search for any patch of shade, and get under it. I fully understand. I was looking for a shady spot to rest most of the day, myself. We saw few animals that particular day. Most of the ones we did see were sleeping. We also HAD TO ride Expedition Everest, and had a great lunch at The Yak and the Yeti. Offspring had a spicy Vietnamese dish called Pho, which impressed the waiter. He said most adults aren't adventurous enough to try that, much less a 12 year old.

We also spent a lovely day at Typhoon Lagoon, where JF and I swam with the sharks in the very cold 68 degree water. Offspring spent most of that day bodysurfing in the wave pool.

We encountered lots of families from the U.K. and a quite a lot of Chinese. We were surprised that there were so many Chinese vacationing with the Olympics going on, but as I pointed out, we flee our city like rats deserting the sinking ship any time there's a big to-do here, so what's to say the Chinese aren't the same? Plus, China's a pretty big place. There were also a lot of Chinese staff members who were working there, training for the opening of Hong Kong Disney.

We ended our trip with dinner at Chef Mickey's in the Contemporary Resort. Yum. Juggling Freak doesn't care for buffets, and even he was impressed. We all came away with aching tummies, and proceeded to sleep like the proverbial dead that night.

Juggling Freak took copious amounts of photos; we played, and spent lots of money; and we ate like complete gluttons. It was your typical Disney vacation.

Where Am I Again?

No sooner than CCW and family drove away from the liquid air we call "humidity" that envelops our city, Offspring and I had to go home and finish packing for a four-day Girl Scout trip that her troop was taking. I was going along as a chaperone/driver, and we had lots to get in the car before our 8am start.

We headed for Helen, Georgia, a small resort town in the Blue Ridge mountains, and what was supposed to be around a five-hour trip from home. We learned a great many things on this trip. Chief among them were:

*What is supposed to be a five hour trip with 13 twelve year old girls will take you eight hours with bathroom stops and lunch.

*We are confirmed flatlanders. Mountains kick our collective tails.

*We stayed at a state park in what was called The Squirrel's Nest. On one of our trips into the park's Trading Post, the ranger working the register asked what section of the park we were staying in. When we told her, she grimaced, and said, "You brave people." We should have known then what we were in for.

*Girls are quite capable as being completely disgusting and flippant about personal hygiene as boys are. I never knew that girls could stink quite that bad.

*We went river tubing, which sounds like it would have been a complete blast, but which turned out to be awful. So awful, I think Dante has it in one of the levels of Hell somewhere. The reason it sucked donkeys was that the area, along with much of the region, is having a drought and the river levels were way down. I became very intimate with every damn rock in the river. Mostly on my shins and knees. I look like I was viciously mauled by a toddler. Pictures don't do it justice. I scraped both palms raw, both knees raw, and bruises from what feels like stem to stern. Had it actually been the normal river level, I think I would have enjoyed that experience, but couldn't this way.

*We're not real fond of being attacked by gigantic moths in the bathhouse while we shower. Just sayin'.

*When you have a Girl Scout who needs desperately to go to the bathroom at 3am, it is best to not critique your appearance in the mirror just then. Yes, your hair looks like crap -- it's 3am, and you're wearing a miner's headlamp. Get over yourself.

Despite all that, it was a fun trip. A lot of fun was had, and the girls all seemed to have a great time. I feel fricking old, but that didn't seem to faze them any.

Now, I have about a 24-hour turnaround time to wash clothes, catch up on saved TiVo programs, and repack for an 8am Saturday departure to Disney World. I'll post at some paint, but I can't tell you when.

I Finally Meet My (Non-Identical) Twin

CCW and I meet up! (While Offspring hovers in the background.)

CCW and Mr. MFBA at lunch.

CCW and I have long since discovered all the ways that we are alike, and have often joked that we must have been twins separated at birth. (How I got to be four years older than her remains a mystery for the ages.)

She and her family had to travel to a family wedding this weekend in a city only 2 hours from mine. She decided that she was dragging the entire family to HumidityLikeABrickWall for a bloggy meetup since she was within a fairly good driving range.

We met up for lunch and a quick stroll around the touristy area. CCW is just as hilarious in person as she is online. She's bright, funny, and we had no shortage of things to talk about. Mr. MFBA was a good sport, driving two hours out of the way for lunch and being Nonami's nap spot during it. He was, poor man, having to drive 10 hours back home only to get up in the morning and head to work. What fun for him. You truly are a badass, Mr. MFBA.

Kid L and Offspring got on like a house on fire. I actually had to look to make sure that they were eating during lunch, because it seemed like they talked a mile a minute the whole time we were there. They exchanged emails, and will probably be burning up the airwaves as much as their mothers do.

Nonami and NSBH were adorable, and I earned cosmic black marks against my name by showing the two of them the candy store and pointing out the large lollipops they sold. Nonami ate his straight away, and managed to get green lollipop goo all over his forehead. NSBH showed great restraint by not eating hers right away, but bedeviled Mommy for it after lunch. Mommy wasn't so interested in letting her child eat a lollipop as big as said child's head, but I have the feeling NSBH will wear her down on the drive home. CCW spent far too much money on the sugar-crack that we call pralines, and I'm curious to see how many of those make it home. They don't last very long with me.

It was a great visit, if short. I feel that we could have talked all day, but time was of the essence. I hope that CCW and Mr. MFBA are able to make the visit they're planning in October. I also hope they enjoyed the visit as much as we did.

Flaming Red Skin and Burning Ears

Offspring had a Girl Scout trip on Saturday to a small waterpark about an hour away from our town. Parents were allowed to attend, and moreover *needed* to attend to get all 22 girls there and back.

I went, and of course, got sunburned. Despite having put sunblock on THREE times in the five hours we were there, and wearing a t-shirt the whole time. The sunburn was bad enough, but it only lasted for about 36 hours before it no longer stung like a mother. I also seemed to have come home with an ear infection in my right ear.

It *hurts.* I took lots of over the counter medications for it yesterday, and that did help ease the pain off. I originally was thinking that I'd maybe gotten a scratch down in the ear canal or something, but it still hurts, even after applications of hydrogen peroxide AND alcohol.

I have a doctor's appointment for later this afternoon, and hopefully, they'll give me something that will allow me to sleep decently tonight.

Being A Productive Member of Society

Offspring is in Art Camp during the day all this week, so I've actually had to curtail my nocturnal urges and go to bed at decent hours. She has to be at the camp location at nine every morning, so I'm trying to stay awake and be a real, live contributing member to society while she's gone.

I met a friend for lunch and shopping yesterday, and today, I plan on making a trip to Kinko's to photocopy some documents for my father. I also may make a stop to the local craft emporium for a design element that I need for an upcoming project.

Tomorrow, Offspring finishes camp and JF and I plan on attending the Parent Art Show in the afternoon to see what she learned this week. Saturday comes with plans to attend a little water park in a nearby town for a Girl Scout outing. I have cleaned a good bit of my house, and am no longer quite so embarrassed to open the door to deliverymen and passing Jehovah's Witnesses.

I'm spending time working on craft projects, and getting ready for the upcoming fun stuff that I have planned, including a bloggy meetup with CCW. I'm hoping that we don't scare her and her family off when they visit the area in a week or so. Here's hoping!

The Massive Cleanup

I decided last week that Offspring's room was no longer livable. There was just too much crap stuffed in her small room. So, we set off last week to get all the crap down to a manageable level. Offspring and I ended up filling 27 bags with old Barbies, assorted odds and ends, and old Happy Meal Toys coated with layers of dust.

After most of the day, and quite a copious amount of hefting and carrying of overloaded trash bags to the curbside, her room looks mostly normal again. Well, as normal as a teenager's room can look.

Not Much Of Anything

I wish I could tell you that my silence has been due to the fabulousness that is my life, but sadly, no. I've just been hanging out, doing as little as possible. I've been maintaining just enough energy to insure that lichen doesn't start growing on my backside, and for me, that's a pretty big accomplishment.

I'm biding time until Offspring starts camp next week, and then vacations and two possible quickie bloggy meetups afterward. Been busy in the craft room, and that's about the extent of my actual productivity.


Updated to add: Offspring's room has looked like a tornado threw up in it for about the last six months. Since I've never won any prizes for *my* housekeeping skillz, this wasn't concerning me all that much. But, today, I got a wild hair up my nether regions to get that festering pile down to a manageable size. One that a child could, you know, LIVE in! Twenty-seven trash bags and five hours later....her room actually has visible floor! Now, I'm taking some Advil, and going to sleep.

In Honor Of Our Nation's Birth

Thanks to my lovely husband for the heads-up!

For CCW

This is a t-shirt that we found in the window of a funky little shop in Myrtle Beach. I knew *immediately* that I had to take a picture. Of course, it's taken me forever to POST it, even though my long-suffering husband spotted the shirt, took the picture, and shrunk said picture down to a manageable size to fit on this blog.



more cat pictures

Don't you *love* I Can Has Cheezburger?

Please to enjoy!

A Complete Failure

22 As a 1930s wife, I am Very Poor (Failure) Take the test!

As seen at Miche's place -- I can honestly say that I'm neither surprised nor upset to be a dismal failure at this particular test. I think I knew I'd blown it when I realized that I either a) wear a soiled apron while I cook my husband his dinner -- or, heaven forbid, *pyjamas*!, or b) I can't seem to even WEAR hosiery, much less keep the seam in them straight!

Oh, well. As they say, well-behaved women rarely make history.

Just For Fun

I got an invitation, rather unexpectedly, the other day from an old Girl Scout friend. The invite was to a "all-day craft event" at her house for this coming Thursday evening. I haven't seen much of this friend this year because I bowed out of leading a troop, so my Girl Scout exposure has been minimal. While our relationship hasn't suffered, it is a change when you're used to being around someone all the time and then that time suddenly just drops off. I was looking forward to an afternoon of food, friends, fun, and fellowship.

My friend and I exchanged a few emails about the upcoming party, which I am excited to attend. The other inhabitants of my house are decidedly NOT as gung-ho about the crafty stuff, so it would be nice to be with other like-minded individuals for a while. Not that I don't love my family, but you all know what I mean, right?!

I finally got tired of trading emails back and forth when we live about ten minutes away from each other, so I picked up the phone. We talked back and forth about the new scrapbook store that opened up here in our town, and about the new stamping and crafting gadgets that are on the market. We speak for a bit about Offspring, who began her Scouting career in this lady's troop. Friend marvels at how far she's come from a shy five-year-old.

Imagine my surprise when later that night, as I'm cleaning up my bedside bookshelf (which was so crammed with books that it exploded when I barely touched it), I find Offspring's Daisy Girl Scout scrapbook. I forget that she was ever than small. Just for fun, I think I'll take it along with me on Thursday, to remind Friend why I'm glad that I know her.

A Bit Problematic

Our school was on the last tax referendum to get a new wing. We've all been very excited at the prospect of moving out of our dinky trailers and into real! actual! classrooms! Even though our building won't be ready until the 2010 - 2011 school year, the land has to be cleared and readied for construction. Next year will be the "clearing and readying the land" year. The *following* year will be the construction year. (Though why it takes two full years to clear the land and construct a building, I'll never know. After all, it is the government. I suppose I should have expected that.) Which, as far as we're concerned, means that as many people as possible had to be housed inside the main school building for this coming school year. So, the great classroom shuffle has begun.

We're moving from our teeny little double-wide trailer (actually only ONE-HALF of a dinky little double-wide trailer) to this humongous (former second-grade) classroom. The only problem is that the powers that be scheduled the floors to be cleaned and waxed. That means that all the furniture has to be placed on the one small carpeted area. Normally, this wouldn't present a problem, but it means that the former teacher who occupied that room has yet to move all of her furniture out, because the room that she's moving to has yet to have the floors done. That in turn means that we can't move our stuff in because her stuff is still taking up most of the space. And the trash left on the floor! Oooh, we won't even go into that.

But, for now, it looks like I'm going to be next door to a teacher that I've grown fairly close to over this year. Hope things stay that way, and that there are no further upheavals in my schedule.

The Ever-Popular Bullets of Randomness

Sorry for the long silence. It's been a busy and not-so-glorious last few weeks.

* Thanks to everyone who contacted me regarding my last post. I really appreciate all of your kind words and thoughts. To be honest, I wasn't seeking approval and compliments with that, it was just something that was really bothering me, and I felt like maybe I could write all the pain out of me if I tried hard enough. Didn't work, but I did feel better enough to finally go to sleep. It was a very disheartening evening for me, and those of you who mailed and called really helped me work through the funk.

* Both my show and school are over. (Thanks be to all benevolent forces out there.) Last show was June 8th, and last day of school was yesterday, June 13th. I just have to get all my crap moved to the new classroom and fill out some last minute paperwork, and I'm clear.

* Got Offspring off this weekend for a Girl Scout Field trip. It's weird not having her in the house. Sat on the couch, watching "Juno" with Juggling Freak, and then went and spent lots of money at the grocery store.

* I also signed up for Facebook, and have been busy playing all the neat little game widgets there.

* Made 14 stationery sets for people at school, and a scrapbook. Now, I need to make three or four greeting cards, and I think I'm good for a bit.

What's all up with you?

Hurt

This evening, before the show, we had our vocal warm-up and our director addressed us as he does before every performance. He passed out discs with the promised pictures that had been taken by the photographer on our final dress rehearsal evening.

Most of the pictures were great. The colors were brilliant, and there were often moments of such clarity that they jumped right off the screen. I could hear the songs, bursting from the actors' mouths. I could see the quick dance steps, and feel the hot stage lights on my skin.

I, however, was in none of those shots. Almost every picture of me is terrible. Now, I am my own worst critic -- and I'll be the first to tell you that. I often don't like pictures of myself. I find it an exhausting and demoralizing experience, this taking of pictures. The light is harsh and unforgiving, the artificiality of all the props and backdrops make the whole thing seem pointless and juvenile.

But this -- this was something else entirely. I know I'm fat. I know it in the way that I know I'm female, or that I know I breathe air. I know it the way I know the curve of my daughter's cheek, or the feel of my husband's warm palm nestled within mine. But, there is a big difference in knowing it, and truly grasping it. I grasped it tonight. I was appalled at how bad I look. I am huge.

God, how it hurts to say that. To know that. To see, with my own eyes how much larger I am than everyone else out there. To see the rolls of fat even under my costume, even at a distance. To know that, while under those hot stage lights that are so unforgiving. My multitude of sins there on stage with the rest of us. Taking up so much room; the silent participant.

I lay in bed tonight, tears rolling down my face as I remember the pictures that I saw earlier. Is that how other people see me? Is that really the way I look to them? How I burn with shame to know why people look at me the way they do. To finally, irrevocably, get it. How shameful it is to feel so bad, to look so bad.

I had this mental image of me, and what I feel like inside my own mind does not match up with what I see on the screen. Have I been lying to myself all this time? Has it all been one long self-delusion of massive proportions? How could I let this happen? How can anyone love this?

This Really Burns My Biscuits

I got sucked into Bravo's Top Chef last season, and have been watching this season from the very beginning. From episode one, I really liked Richard -- he seems very down-to-earth and genuinely nice (something a lot of the other competitors, past and present, have seriously lacked.) Plus, Richard lives in Atlanta these days, and I have to root for the guy who lives in my neck of the woods.

The last few episodes have been very frustrating to watch. There has been one competitor who has consistently been in the bottom rung on almost every elimination, and who has managed to squeak through. This is not all that unusual, as the judges tend to send home those who make really egregious errors, and pass over those who merely did not shine. It so happens that this year's "skate by on the skin of my teeth" contestant is Lisa.

What really grates on me about Lisa is that she is completely unable to accept criticism. In every episode, when she's brought before Judge's Table, her body posture is so defensive and rigid. She refuses to take anything the judges say to heart, which will ultimately lose her this competition. She also has the nasty habit of throwing the other contestants under the bus in order to save her own skin. In front of the judges a few episodes ago, she basically tattled that another contestant had not followed the letter of the challenge, despite the fact that she'd done the self-same thing the episode before that! This, to me, was inexcusable. I mean, I know it's a contest, but that's beyond the pale.

It seems, by reading the blogs associated with the show, that most other people feel the same way. Dale was another contestant who was eliminated in episode 11, and should not have been. Lisa should have been eliminated first, though I hold on deep love for Dale. Dale was abrasive and fairly open about the fact that he wanted to win, but he's a damn sight better chef than Lisa. Dale, at least, won some of the eliminations and quickfire challenges, AND got lots of compliments from the judges. Lisa hasn't been anyone's favorite that I can recall.

Not that this is that earth-shattering a topic, but it was on my mind.

The Verdict

Opening night went pretty well, except for me flubbing an entrance. One of the other cast members, however, knocked over what is supposed to be a stationary urn. I figure my flubbed entrance did no damage to the actual set, so I should be grateful that I wasn't MORE embarrassed because it could have been a lot worse.

Did pretty good in the dance that I generally screw up, so it was a give-and-take sort of thing.

Glued my left eye shut with false eyelash glue and that burned like a son of a gun, and I had to redo the makeup on that side of my face.

Didn't fall over, didn't hurt myself, and didn't step on either of my dance partner's toes, so it wasn't too hideous.

Offspring and Juggling Freak came, which was nice. My mother and a couple visiting from England (friends of the family) may come sometime this weekend, so that will be nice.

Now, we're one down, twelve more performances to go. I'm tired, and probably will be for the next three weeks or so....

Wish Me Luck!

Back from my self-imposed quietude to say:

My show opens tomorrow! Tonight's dress rehearsal was pretty good -- I had been messing this one dance up for freaking FOREVER, but I actually was pleased with my performance in it tonight.

We had a professional photographer there tonight, taking pictures, and at the end of the run, we are all presented with a disc of all the pictures. If there's a picture of me that doesn't look like a total doofus, and you all are interested, I'll post it. (Among all the other pictures that I've promised to post, and haven't yet gotten around to. So....look for it in about October, I guess, if I don't scrap the whole darn blog by then.)

So, wish me luck. In theater, we traditionally say "break a leg", but I did that last year, and I wasn't too thrilled with the result of that, so I'll just ask for good luck wishes, and all that bad theater karma be damned.