When your brain pukes.

I must really really love staying up late. Here I am at 2 am, and I'm wide awake. *sigh* I'm even drinking Sleepytime Tea. It's not doing it's dang job. So I'm going to blog about things running through my mind. Scary. This blog is not for the faint of heart.

I'm hungry. I need something to eat. Ok. Just got up to make toast. I'm even eating the heel. mmmmm toast.

We had our second rehearsal tonight. It was the first one that Pete was there. He plays Mr. Darcy to my Lizzy. I've known this person for about 10 years, probably more. Pete is just now 21-ish. This poor 29 year old body is playing Elizabeth Bennett next to a 21 year old. I really feel old. Plus I feel bad for Peter. There are a couple kisses in the script between him and I. He has to kiss an old lady who, for most of his life, has been a teacher rather than an actor-along-side-you-in-a-play. How does one break the ice in a situation like that? Also, how do I not be extremely self-conscious about the grey hairs that poke through once in awhile?

On a more positive note, I think this play will be a fun one to do. (This next part is going to sound really egotistical, but I don't mean it that way) I have never been challenged in my acting since EORT's inception. I have a degree in this stuff and I know a lot. I've always had to tone down my acting in order not to bowl over the person playing opposite me. I don't want to steal the spotlight, and I can really easy with "local talent" so to speak. Peter, is getting his degree in theatre. He has a few productions under his belt, and he was really naturally talented all his growing up. It'll be nice to see if he can push me, and I can push back. I think I might have an opposite that can hold his own against the tempest.

Costume design...*sigh* I'm going fabric shopping tomorrow. Fabric shopping eve always makes me nervous. I'm never organized enough for my taste, and since we're leaving at 8am tomorrow morning, it doesn't give me a whole lot of time to think about what I'm missing. It'll be a miracle if the costume bible makes it out of the house with me. And hopefully my escapade into Joann's won't be 5 hours like last time.

My bread tastes like it's sourdough, but it's wheat. My taste buds are screwy at 2:30am.

I need to get the checkbook from the office before I go anywhere. If I arrive in Ontario without it, I'm just one big dummy.

A bottle of white...a bottle of red..Perhaps a bottle of Rosea instead. (however you spell it) I'll meet you anytime you want...in our Italian resturant.

I think I'm putting to much pressure on myself to make Pride and Prejudice into something amazing. I want people to walk away from the show falling in love with Lizzy and Darcy all over again (or for the first time). I want the scenes to crackle with the pent up emotion and tension. I want electricity. If I put pressure on myself, things will fall flat. I need to allow myself to know that my costumes will be great, and I need to allow time for Lizzy to come out of the shadow somewhere inside me. She's in there, and I always find my characters. I need to allow Lizzy to be who she is, not who I want her to be. She's Elizabeth Bennett for goodness sakes, she'll emerge on her own.

I've recently fallen in love with scarves. Silk ones, that you tie around your head to hold your hair back. My hair is just long enough that the front part falls in my face constantly. I add a scarf that matches the outfit and Voila, insta hairdo. Although it does make me look like I have an "artistic" temperament, which shouldn't be a problem since I DO have an artistic temperament. It makes me look like I should be slapping paint up against the wall during my expressionistic phase. (For those of you who weren't "priviledged" enough to have to go through an art history class in college, impressionists were artists that painted pastel flowers, and expressionists were people who painted with bold strokes and colors i.e. The Scream) Anyway, it looks like I need to be splattered in paint, throwing temper tantrums because no one appreciates my art. Which, the ironic things is, no one actually does. Hmmmm...maybe there's more to this than I thought.

I can't seem to find a note to end this thing on. I'm kind of nervous heading back upstairs to bed because I'm not sure if I'm sleepy enough to go to sleep yet. I might be. First though, I need to head back to where I keep my patterns and see if I have a pattern that I really don't want to buy. I think I do actually. That would be a great happiness if I did. Then I'll go to bed. After I check my sewing room for another pattern for vests. THEN I'll go to bed. :) I'll get to bed eventually.