Sunday, May 23, 2010

Dear Charlie:

Today turned out to be a pretty good day. In fact, a great day.

It didn't start out that way.

See, I knew I had to get up early this morning when I went to bed last night. I hit the sack at around midnight (which is way early for me, thanks to my whonky work schedule), knowing my alarm was set for 8:00 AM.

Why? Because I knew I was going to see Pesh's play today. It's the last performance, and I wanted to see the whole product. Yeah, I'd seen rehearsals, but I'd never seen the play all the way through, and it's just not the same. Plus, it's dinner theater. Seriously. Dinner.

So I knew I wanted to get some of the evil kudzu yard mowed -- I swear I could bale and sell the results -- then get cleaned up and get over there by 1:00 at the latest. Because 1:00 is when they serve dinner. Ya know, the important part. Heh.

Knowing all of this, I lay down and... well... what happened next will only be a surprise to someone who's never read an entry of mine. Yeah. Couldn't sleep. At all.

Four o'clock came and went, and still I tossed and turned, but I did eventually fall asleep sometime after that. Unfortunately, that only made me very cranky when the alarm went off at 8:00. Ugh.

But I got up, got dressed, and was out tilting at windmills... er... mowing happily by 8:30. This lasted until around 10:00, when my mower died.

Admittedly, it could have been because I'm trying to mow knee-high fescue (hey, it's been raining for like three weeks!) with a cheap push-mower from Wal-Mart... that I bought 9 years ago... but when I checked, it was just out of gas.

Easily fixed, yes? No. Turns out, I had nothing but dribbles in the little gallon tank I keep in the shed. Lovely. I'd planned on at least another hour of mowing before showering up and heading on my way. Sure, I could go get gas, but by the time I'd gone somewhere and come back, I'd probably only get in another half hour or so, which, as high as the grass is, won't make much difference.

Screw it. I came inside, gulped down a bottle of water (boy, did it get hot quick, or what?), showered, and even fixed my hair. It was early, but oh, well. My mood had improved just by virtue of being squeaky clean.

That turned out to be a good thing, because the play -- an adaptation of Othello directed and adapted by Paxton Williams -- turned out to be completely entertaining. Oh, dinner was tasty and all (my compliments to the chef!), but the play....

And the audience "got" it, too. There were laughs and gasps, murmured comments, and much appreciative applause, and the cast deserved every bit of it. They were spot on, despite a few dropped lines, and really played to the hilt. And when Othello throttled Desdemona, there was even an astonished, "He really did it!"

Good times.

And then, when the play was over, those wretched people put me to the blush by telling everyone I'd done the set painting and calling me up to the stage so they could give me a gift. Can you believe that? What nerve!

And Pesh totally didn't warn me!

Okay, all joking aside (though that last bit is true), it was incredibly nice of them, and they are all awesome people. Especially after having seen the whole show, I am proud to have been a part of it. Everyone put in a lot of time and effort and heart into every aspect, and it turned out extremely well because of it.

My day...is awesome.

Of course, now I have to ruin it by girding back up for Round 3 with the evil kudzu yard. So far, I'm winning, but I have my battle wounds.

But I will be victorious. Oh, yes. Like Othello over the pernicious Iago... no... wait. Um....

Like Hamlet over the very demons of indecision that haunted him....

...No.

Okay, like... um....

Aw, screw it. I'mma go mow.

Oh, and the gift? The incredibly thoughtful and welcome and awesome-sauce gift? An electric teapot. Have you ever heard of anything more handy? I'm having a spot (or two) of tea as soon as I get out of the shower.

...Again....

Ahem. Mowing now.


[Edited to add: Three hours later, I've managed to beat the lawn into submission (for now; the kudzu refuses to lie down for long), take a cool and scrubby bath (and washed my hair again), and gulp down half a Coke. Probably not the best idea on that last, but hey. It sounded good, even if it's sitting in my stomach like a rock. I did have a bottle of water before hitting the showers, but I needed my fix!

I will definitely be having tea later -- perhaps some of the awesome stuff Pesh so thoughtfully provided Friday. Whee! Thank you, crazy tea lady!]

3 Comments:

At 9:34 PM, Blogger Pesh said...

Crazy tea lady, huh? Not too sure about the lady part, but I think I'll stamp that one apt.

And yea for lawn mowage!

I'm glad everything went so well with the play. I'm really glad that you enjoyed it. ^_^

Pulling set pieces was a brief and almost futile effort, but we have a few pieces in the house now. Bob asked Becki what kind of music she is going to use, and she said one band is Abney Park. The other was something Steel. I haven't found it yet. Anyhoo, here is a link to a creepy Abney Park tune.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dnY9gy1OdFY&NR=1

This is going to be awesome!

O_o Word verification: dedgise Bwaha! I love it!

 
At 10:46 PM, Blogger GutterBall said...

Oh, man, you guys were amazing. It's so hard to bring Shakespeare's writing to life these days, but I'm telling you, the audience was enthralled. And they understood. It was great.

And the tea kettle works like a charm! *huggles it... burns self*

Ouch.

Ahem.

*sips cinnamon stick*

I think I'll save the English Breakfast stuff for... ya know... breakfast. *wink* Maybe I won't pine for Coke so much anymore?

Thank you, Pesh!

 
At 6:39 AM, Blogger Pesh said...

Now you just need a proper teapot. I found one for $18 at Pier 1. I don't care for the polka dots, but it was the only one resembling the shape of a Brown Betty.

http://www.english-teapots.com/england/teapot_brown_betty.htm

It does make a difference over brewing in the cup. And English Breakfast is an all day tea, despite the name, so don't let your lack of mornings dissuade you.

 

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