Thursday, June 28, 2012

Somebody's eyes...

My brain kicked on two hours early today, so I have time for a short update. The insomnia and teen-reminiscent acne are probably indicative of stress, but it's a good stress.

Tonight is the final rehearsal for Footloose, in which I get to play Ethel McCormack. Tomorrow night I get to sit home and think good thoughts for the other cast as they open the show. Then on Saturday evening I play for the first time!

Norseman and Sunshine have been attending Footloose camp during the day (and having a great time!), so I've been helping around the theatre however I can. Guys and Dolls closed Saturday, and Footloose opens tomorrow, so there's no shortage of stuff to do! I was super excited when one of the producer/directors asked if I could paint eyes. I said "Heck yeah!"  When I got there on Tuesday, he handed me some jars of black-light paint.  I painted one pair of huge feature eyes, then more than a dozen smaller, lower contrast eyes.

Last night I got to see them all under black light (during the song Somebody's Eyes) and it was a-may-zing (if I do say so myself!).  We agreed that the walls still seem... unfinished, so today I'll figure out how to add some texture without detracting from the spookiness of the eyes watching.  I'll also make some Bomont Police patches for the cop's uniform. And shorten the sleeves of the Ethels' Cubs shirts. And... a few dozen other things before camp is done. See? Good stress. But still stress.

Friday, June 08, 2012

Celebrity dream oddities

I jumped out of bed this morning with the intent of tackling yard work before it gets hot. Last week I left the back yard half mowed after using the last dribble of gasoline in the fuel can.  Since then I've filled up both the mower and the fuel can, and purchased a snazzy new weed eater.  I went with the $29 one instead of the $25 one, and I admit I'm a little eager to use it.

However, I looked at the grass as I let the dogs out and thought... you know it's not really that bad. I feel like writing today.

So I turned on the computer.

Which, ultimately, is a bad idea if I want to be any sort of productive today. I felt guilty about typing that last sentence, so dug out the heavy-duty extension cord and the hedge trimmer; set 'em by the front door.

So on another note, I wonder what random celebrities popping into dreams means? Earlier this week Rod Stewart showed up at our house, except it wasn't THIS house, you know what I mean? He drove a little blue Mini Cooper.  If you didn't look directly at him, you could tell it was Rod Stewart. But if you looked directly at him, it was tough to tell if he was a man or a woman for all the hair-teasing and face-lifting and lip-plumping. (Disclaimer: Apologies to Mr. Stewart. I have no idea if you have actually indulged in surgical 'maintenance', or why it was you in my dream and not, say, Barry Manilow or Dee Snyder. The dreaming brain is a... well... a dreaming brain.)

And in my dream last night a young Lenny Kravitz showed up to work at a copy shop I was in. I guess I worked there at one time because I was behind the counter at first, since I was the only one in the shop, customer or otherwise. Then Young Lenny arrives with a friend, and I tell him what I need-- a calendar of some sort.  I'm trying to be smooth and intelligent, so of course I can't find the specific paper I need in my notebook.

Very strange. I did see a Woody Harrelson movie about six months ago that had a Rod Steward impersonator in it. And Lenny. I guess I heard someone mention a few weeks ago that he's in a current movie--Hunger Games maybe? Curious what the subconscious mind does while in recharge mode.

Okay. I guess I'll go rouse some teenagers to help with yard work. We'll make it a par-tay. They'll love it.

**11:30 UPDATE: Before heading out to mow the back yard, I woke the teenagers and warned that if they didn't get up and help, I would make them feel guilty.  So by the time I came back in to sit in front of a fan, both kids were up and putting shoes on. Sunshine conquered low-hanging tree wispies and stubborn weeds, Norseman mowed the front yard, and I made good use of the new weed eater and old hedge trimmer. Gotta admit: a nicely edged sidewalk makes me smile.  We are now half-way through a well-earned one-hour break before jumping on other tasks, like handprints around light switches and nose prints on the storm doors.