For those of you who do not subscribe to Facebook and so did not read my “High School Reunion of the Living Dead” post, I should sum up my high school reunion experience (I know this will get posted to Facebook as well and will be a tad redundant but such is my fascination with my own thoughts). It was…interesting. Poorly attended, lousy food, but interesting nonetheless. Now I know that a bunch of people have taken upon themselves the thankless job of putting these reunions together and I don’t mean to diss them. They did their best. They can’t control the turnout or the food quality for that matter. They did a good job.
It’s just that we’re all so old, yknow? Now I’m generally not too concerned with aging. Other than cancer, diabetes, heart disease, deafness, and unexplained weight loss, I’m in great health. Women still find me attractive. Well, old women actually. To young women, I am like an aging Ken doll. I have smooth parts down there; I am genderless and sexless. No matter. I just wish everyone didn’t look so…old. Wouldn’t it be great if we could all look great for about 85 years and then just drop dead? Think of all the increased libido. Sales of sex enhancing drugs would sky rocket! Of course the orthopedic hosiery industry might take a hit but hey, we’d all be smiling a lot more.
So the reunion blew.
Now on to Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf. It is murder to memorize these lines. Lou the director has been extremely lenient and understanding. I’m doing okay. Pretty much have Act I down but I still miss cues. It is still my goal to have all Acts committed to memory by the beginning of December. Which is only a week away! Yikes! If only I didn’t need to work for a living. Okay, I’ll settle for Act 2 memorized by the end of next week but I’ll still shoot for all 3.
It’s so good to be in a show. Tiring as hell, frustrating at times, scary even, but the best. I’m really enjoying the fact that this show is straight acting, no singing. Not that I don’t love to sing but often in a musical that’s where the bulk of the rehearsal goes; to singing and dancing. With drama there’s no net. No big production number to bring down the house and make the audience forget that no one is acting very well. This is what makes it scary however. The thought of going up on lines is causing all of the malyanki little hairs on my plop to stand on end. But this is such a good cast! They’ll save me. I’ll save them. It will all work out.