Whoops! Thought that was all about JournalCon, eh? Fools!! There will never be an end to JournalCon, never, I say!!! Well, maybe there will be, but here are the last few things that I forgot to mention:

First was poor Shae, whom I forgot to mention. Shae whom I love! Shae who is my friend! Shae who introduced me to the man that I will marry! Or at least she invited me to the concert where I saw the man that I fully intend to, um, embarrass myself in his presence someday. Shae whom I barely saw at JournalCon (The Story That Refuses To End), but who kindly read this very very silly, funny entry after Jessamyn read The Saddest Entry in Captivity.

Second was when I was at the cool shop with Amy, trying on bad winter hats (before I bought the baddest of them all), and lots of them didn't fit, because of my fat Irish head. "This doesn't fit because of my fat Irish head!" I would cry, and Amy would answer, soothingly, "Oprah Winfrey has a big head." I think three times she said it, to make me feel better, and I think I may spend the rest of my life, whenever commenting on the size of my melon (usually when trying on hats), I will think, "Well, Oprah has a big head!" Amy will be a wonderful Mommy, especially if the baby has a gigantic head.

The third thing was picking up my luggage in the airport on the way home--I walked to the carousel and saw it not riding round and round, but sitting next to it! So I grabbed it and walked on. Both times on this trip I looked exactly as though I were stealing my luggage, and both times nobody even blinked or glanced at my baggage claim ticket.

Fourthly...shit. I had a fourth. I've lost it now.

So, since I have spent the last week writing about the weekend, here it is Friday (and it is 19 October, let me stress in a casual, no-I'm-not-writing-these-entries-after-the-fact-how-dare-you-doubt-me kind of way) and my show opens tonight! So, let me summarize the week in rehearsals.

Monday's rehearsal was our first in the space, but we did it out of order again because it was an early rehearsal and I took it as a lunch hour. I did wonder when on earth we were going to run the show in order without stopping--not that it matters to me, because each scene is completely separate, but poor Chris I think would like to have a throughline of some sort.

Tuesday was an evening rehearsal with three of the one acts involved so that we could see them and have a bit of an audience ourselves. I was about ten or fifteen minutes late and got roared at by Le, who gave his "If you are late, you are stealing from me" speech. I was not upset, I deserved it. And besides, Cynthia was later, though he yelled much more at me because Cynthia had been "stuck in an elevator". Or so she said...I imply nothing.

Later that night, when we got home, Le called and made certain that we knew that he was not actually angry at us, but he needed to make an example out of us and put the fear of God into the new company members in the cast. He added that he was glad that we were the ones that were late that he didn't have to make the others cry.

The first one that went up was Cherry Blend With Vanilla, a beautiful play that we have done about a million times, and it always goes well--it's a pretty actor-proof play, though I have mostly seen it with lovely actors, but I have never seen it so good as with Kitty in this production. Le always said that when he directed it, we'd see what it could be like, and he was right. I almost want to fire Cynthia in my head and have Kitty do it when I do the movie of it. But not quite.

It was also, I think, the first time I saw it since my father died (it's about a man coming back from the dead and, through some slight subterfuge, getting his widow to live her life again), so I wept buckets.

Then was us, for the first time doing all four scenes in order. It went well, I got some good laughs, but Chris really saw how exhausting it is for him to do it all in a row! Quite a feat. And I got some real soup and fed it to him for the first time rather than miming, but since I had to get it from the deli downstairs and they didn't have actual lentil soup, I got this strange, garlicky concoction that Chris didn't have to act as though he thought was nasty.

After us was Cynthia's monologue, The Two Elizabeths, which is about 9/11, but not overtly. I mean it is, and it does talk about it, but it's not like all of our stories started, "I woke up, it was an ordinary day..." and I cried unstoppably throughout the whole thing. I don't think that the audiences will, because it's not clear that that's what it's about, and it's not sad or maudlin at the beginning one bit, but she starts out by singing Blowin' in the Wind, "How many deaths will it take till he knows/That too many people have died?", and I just burst into tears and didn't stop. Cynthia does it beautifully, too, so simply.

Wednesday was our night off, aka "the night that Chris can work", and Thursday was our proper tech, with all of the scene changes and crew and things. Also, our chance to see the other two shows, Amaretto and Autumn and Flow Blue.

The first is a lovely show that has been done before, but this is a beautiful version. Beverly and Catherine's voices are toned so differently that the whole show sounds like music. I laughed, though, because clearly Beverly directed it rather than Debbie, the actual director. She was struggling with the board a bit, and didn't co-ordinate the music and lights that well, so Beverly stuck her head out and told her how she should do it. I giggled, which got me a glare and a shh from Le, but I wasn't laughing at Debbie or Beverly, but instead at the fact that that would totally be me in that position.

The last show to see, Flow Blue, was really touted as the weepy one, Kirsten and Geoffrey in the child-abuse play. Cynthia said when she saw it she was a burbling mess, so I was braced. The show went on, and it was good, it was powerful, the performances were beautiful, but weep-fest? Not really. I teared up a bit, but not much. Then, about halfway through the show, I suddenly knew what Cynthia was talking about. My God it's sad! And both actors, whom I have known for ten years and who give consistently wonderful performances, completely outdid themselves.

The only problem was that this incredibly sad play is about adult siblings talking about their abusive father. My dark scene is about a woman torturing her abusive father. And it's funny. Though it might not be so funny anymore! Man, I am going to get no laughs, I just know it.

We got screams of laughter at tech, though, much more than we will ever get during the run, I know. I thought Geoffrey was going to have a stroke. It was great.

And guess what happened yesterday?! Congrats Amy and Andy! Does that look like a new-born baby to you? Looks about six months old to me--good thing they got her out of there before she just took over Amy's whole body, sloughing off her skin like a snake.

I'm never getting my fucking hat back, am I?

Today's horoscope:
You (or the kids) may be inclined to splurge on some kind of self- indulgence today. A little spoiling is fine; just don't go overboard.

One year ago today:
"Gee, don't I have a script somewhere that I should look at?"

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