Spirits and spirit

Man, was I miserable earlier this week! I could never really remember my Mom's birthday - and I've never gotten her a card on time. So I missed her all week. Cried. Whined. Complained. Worried.

Worried over pickle faces at work. But generally, the kids were good, so I couldn't figure out why the misery. Must be because I can't quit smoking and am doomed to a lifetime of simply hanging in until it's over. The colder, greyer, much shorter days. No exercise. The Depressed Procrastinator.

Whad a grade relief to wake up wid a code in de node. Oh JOY! (Sniff) I don't need a shrink after all! Whew - I've just got that germ that's been traveling the school halls and living room walls.

Wade a mindude... Oh SHIT! This is NOT the best time to have da Code in de Node. I've got THREE performances this weekend! Oh man, talk about sucking the fun out of things.

(Note to self: Remember the words of Cher - as stupid as they sounded at the time - put one foot in front of the other)

Okay, so long as it's not freezing rain or snowing, this can be done. And dear friend Tim (who has actually written about the same week) has been a real Rock of Gibralter; simply by being there, being himself, and providing the transportation for the one step at a time.

The Spirit Walk at the Georgina Pioneer Village is the brainchild of the museum's curator, a fellow actress and friend. My role this year was to be a Mrs. R.M. Anderson, who lost her life by getting run over by a train. Fortunately for my failing memory, the script was short, and the mere thought of being caught on the tracks with one of those monster engines coming at me lent a certain "je ne sais quois" to the delivery.

Of course, that little shit in the Birthday Party Group who came close to getting smacked by this "ghost" would have lent a certain "je ne sais quois" as well, but would have caused more trouble than the kid was worth.

Still feeling just about as drained as a spirit ought to, I tried to sleep the next day, only to have my thoughts in turmoil every time I looked at the clock - I have to get up in an hour. Damn! I have to get up in a half hour. Whine, mutter, mumble. The note on this box of cold meds says I shouldn't operate a crane or any heavy equipment. I'll keep that in mind.

Nonetheless, it was a hugely successful TWO nights for the museum with great crowds and super weather. I met a fascinating couple who are also expecting their first baby; got to catch up with a few folks; bought myself a medicine bag and genuinely enjoyed the event despite myself.

Until I lay me down to bed. This was becoming a serious problem - the getting back up part. Last on the agenda was our final Second City class performance at the Mainstage. I'd been having nightmares about this all week. Now I'm too sick to worry about getting nervous.

Oh yeah? Let's get physical here and simply loose about 40 gallons of water. I swear, I had to go pee as often as I did when pregnant. Mop the brow. Note the foulness emanating from the "oh my GOD! that's me!" THANK YOU Charlene, for having the foresight to bring deodorant. THANK YOU Melanie for being so calm and supportive. THANK YOU Tim for saying it a million times and then just once more.

Then it happened - and I often wonder if heroin is like this - about 30 seconds before the lights go on and the house music is playing, there's a rush of confidence; a joy like Christmas morning...and you're scampering onstage with an ear-to-ear; the audience and you become a part of each other.

For forty brilliant minutes - some of them I actually remember - and then it's over. Technically. The Green Room crit; yes! our instructor was pleased. The old friends from our first class - where did they go? My own family! The introductions, the friends, the babbling...well, that part was just on huge big babble. Told the instructor how much this year has meant for me; and damn! I'm going to miss it.

I can't believe it's me! Especially when several people who aren't obliged to tell you that it went well came to shake hands, compliment and praise. Yes, that means a lot.

Did we get the Halloween candy for the kids? Is your permission form signed for curling? I'd better get that car oil-sprayed. Is there anything clean for work tomorrow? Shit, do I really look that fat? Do you have any Kleenex?