Crap..Balls..and Carol Brady I am Not

Last night I came home from rehearsal, drank a glass of wine and collapsed on the couch. Everyone was asleep. Finally I had some time alone to think..To think a lot..

This week has been nuts. Lots of kid activities, working out, vocal power building lessons, rehearsals, some drama, the f'd up election results. It's enough to drive a girl to drink..Oh yeah, that one's already covered. And it's only Wednesday.

Sitting here in my jammies, with my make up still on from last night..yawn..I bet I look fabulous..especially with my stinky breath..

Rehearsals are starting to get intense. Memorizing lines, songs, blocking..When I first auditioned, my first fear was forgetting my lines..then once I got the female lead, forgetting my solo. Next it was not laughing while staring into the eyes of my romantic counterpart while we hug, kiss or sing to each other. That's all good so far. Now it's remembering my blocking.

Last night I stumbled into a chair during rehearsal.

Craptastic.

I also practiced my solo on stage. Just me..alone..and eventually a BIG spotlight with the rest of the stage blacked out..and a high D I need to hit..The money note.

Gulp.

Don't get me wrong. I am loving this..every part of it...I'll be so sad when it's done. Just want to do be all I can be yada-yada-yada..

35 more days until the play goes up. Pray that I sing like Whitney Houston and not Cookie Monster...C is for cookie...

-------------------

Sunday night..

I'm not one of those moms who gets mad when her family plays baseball in the house. I only get ticked when I don't get my turn up to bat because I'm always the one taking pictures.

No Carol Brady here. Remember? Mom always said don't play ball in the house..

What-evah..I wouldn't want that mullety haircut anyway..Ugh.

Hell hath no fury like a wife whose lamp is knocked over.
Spanked that ball out of the park kitchen..