Finding my inner hormones....

No this is not a TMI post I promise.....

So the show I am doing is an all original show. It has been produced for many years here in Houston and has a huge following. It is basically an autobiographical theatrical extravaganza around this really incredible woman named Tamarie Cooper. Every year is loosely based on some aspect of her life - this year - we focus on the impending birth of her first child and what effect this has on her brain.... yes ladies and gents ... through the power of theatre and meditation you are transported into her brain to meet and be entertained by all sorts of fun characters, endorphins, and memories.



Enter one of my characters (as we play many) - I am one of the hormones.
Imagine a combination of Greek Goddess, Medusa from Clash of the Titans and the Witches from Macbeth.



Now - as much as I love playing bipolar manic crazy people - this is the first time I get to play a SINGING bipolar manic crazy chemical!!! At Saturday's rehearsal - the musical director tells us that he is going to forward us the music and sheet music with a forewarning that we should probably start working on it that night as it is possibly going to kick our ass. Great. I get home that night and wait - pressing send/receive, send/receive over and over until my precious little package arrives in my email box. I launch the MP3 to hear an eerie haunting song that is usually played with the opening credits of an old scary movie - that sweeping shot across the cemetery in a low fog at night.
Then the melody line starts. REALLY?!?!?! Very tricky melodies and timing - not to mention a range that would kick a real singer's butt. At one point - my children came out of the game room and looked down over the stair railing to make sure it was just mommy rehearsing and not the dog dying a horrible death.

So the next day, I start our part of the rehearsal saying - okay - we have three options - we A.) change the key

B.) go with an Ursula from Little Mermaid type performance



or




C.) A Madeline Kahn "Oh sweet mystery of life at last I've found you" falsetto type performance from Young Frankenstein -

so - what are we gonna do?!?!?!

We ended up with a combination of the three - we brought it down a few steps, and decided that on the upper tiers - like, ya know when you read the sheet music, and the composer has to put TWO EXTRA LINES above the music bars because he wants you sing similar to whale/dolphin mating calls.... those parts will be done silly falsetto soprano.

I am giddy excited at the craziness.....it was either do this show or go into therapy, I think I chose wisely!!

A touch of OCD

I am currently suffering from a touch of OCD combined with a dollop of I just don't give a F%#@!
I need to vent.. let's vent, shall we?
So I am sitting here at my desk trying to work on something that I have had nothing to do with for the eight years I have been here. I have happily not taken any responsibility regarding this task and I have never even cared two s%$#ts about how it is done, why it is done, or how often it should be done. I have enough to do around here to worry about this and every time the topic has come up or the job needs to be re-assigned due to people leaving, I have managed to side skirt and two step my way in any direction but the one that leads to this task.
But guess what .... some big whig muckity muck wants to come "review" these charts and NOW guess who gets to review it FIRST!!! So I am sitting here - almost in tears due to frustration at how completely ridiculous and mishandled this STUPID LITTLE TASK has been. I cannot believe that something so DAMN easy has been screwed up SO ROYALLY!!! So here I sit - trying to decide whether or not to go with this poor system that is already set up and just make it "pretty" or chuck the whole thing and do it the right way.

....grrrrrrr........

Dear People,

There comes a time in one's life when you find yourself having an out of body experience - ya know the one where you wake up and realize that you are covered in blood holding the cylindrical tubey thingy from the drive up bank teller and you tell the officer, really sir - I have no idea what just happened - but after the third time the car in front of me sent the tube back, everything went black and now I am standing here.

Dear people -

I say this now as a form of therapy - or perhaps an intervention - so as to save someonelse's life and prevent me from spending the rest of my life behind bars.

• IF you choose to go to the drive up bank - BE PREPARED!!!!!! That lovely covered breezeway is not a parking zone for you rest in the shade while you lazily thumb through your paperwork and arrange and re-calculate your numbers.


• It is also NOT a place for you to go and ask questions, and send love notes back and forth and back and forth and back and forth..... if you don't have the required paper to sign your life away to the bank THEN GO INSIDE!!!!!!


• The Commercial lane is for COMMERCIAL BUSINESS!!! I know you lovely people in the 20 year old rusty clankers with the passenger with bare feet hanging out the window are not there turning in last night's cash receipts!! You are not so smart that you get to go into that lane before the line of 4 cars waiting the lane right next to it!!!


• The big black tubey thingy IS NOT A GIFT!! I cannot tell you how many times I have driven up behind someone who has driven off with the tube in the car. If you are that important or absent minded that you cannot remember to return the tube for the next customer - PARK YOUR CAR!!! You probably shouldn't be driving anyway.


• Though highly trained and responsible - BANK TELLERS ARE NOT YOUR PERSONAL ASSISTANTS OR ACCOUNTANTS - have your own pens, know your own account numbers, fill out your own papers, and do your own math - correctly.

Please, please, please.... I am begging you... drive up - send your s%$# - and leave.

Warmest Regards,

The apoplectic customer behind you who has no problem running you over with her car.

5...6...7....OUCH!!

Oh my dear sweet people - I have only been in 2 days of rehearsal and it has become horribly clear - momma just ain't what she used to wuz..... The show is great, the people wonderful - and I am uber excited to be apart of it - but it certainly has been many many years since I asked this body to run, kick, jazz hand and box step - over and over again. During the rehearsal itself - I was great - sweating and breathing hard, but okay. After the 1/2 hr drive home and trying to get out of my car - OUCH!!

I am stating this now: I am forever grateful for this opportunity falling in my lap. I needed it more than I could possible have ever known. And I am forever grateful to Kyle for recommending me and for Tamarie for giving me a chance - it truly is a honor. I take the time to state this now as I fear that, between work, family, and this much needed outside distraction, it could lead to great radio silence here - I hope not - but I might fall asleep on the keyboard trying to type in an update..... that or my jazz hands might cramp up and not allow me to type.

Fun side story - I was in the pool swimming with the kids and trying to explain to them why mommy was going to be gone a lot over the next few weeks. I said I was going to be working and then I thought - no - go ahead and tell them they will understand the concept of the play. So I say, mommy got a job as an actress again and she is going to be in a play - "Is it on TV?" - no - "Are we going to get to see it?" - uhm - we will have to see how that works out - "Does this mean we all get to move into a mansion?!?!?!"..... oh how I wish.......

Mark the Date

June 18, 2009

6:31 PM

Ring Ring....

Ring Ring.....

"Hi, You've reached, Micheal, Becky, Max & Ben - we can't come to the phone right now so please leave a message and we will get back to you!"

BEEP!!!

Maaaaaax......
Hiiiiiiiiiiii.......
This is Aliyah.....
See you at schooooool tomorrow.........

Max got his first call from a girl - he is six - heading into 1st grade.

Me: Uhm, Max?!? - Aliyah left you a message...
Max: Yeah, (Joe Cool) I gave her my number......

... and so it begins.......

LOST - the 1st Grade Summer School Episode

I have mentioned previously that Max was going to be going to summer school this year. The Dual Language Program that he is part of arranged for the English speaking students of the program to get funding to attend the Bilingual Summer School classes so that they can maintain Spanish fluency through the Summer and not lose any ground they have made during the school year. Sounds great - right? Well - Summer school is only from 8 until 12:00 - meaning - we needed something for the afternoon - enter - extended day program. Now - you would think that the extended day program would be at the same school - au contraire - THAT is at another school. ENTER transportation department - transportation department has agreed to take summer school kids from School "A" to School "B".

So - now we are weeks of emails into making sure that my precious red-headed Spanish speaking Russian prince makes it from his Dual Immersion Language program through the Bilingual Summer School onto a transportation bus arriving safely at an extended day program - ALL THE SAME DISTRICT - ALL WITHIN BLOCKS OF EACH OTHER!

Well.... Max gets home Monday and he (adorably over-exaggerated, I might add) throws his hands up in the air and and begins to tell me (in a breathy, staccato, elevated volume) how the bus driver did not take him to School "B" - "he just left me there!!! And we waited and waited and waited and there was no lunch and nothing!!!" (BIG dramatic sweep of the arms in the air!) Now - part of me wants to start laughing at his dramatic (well rehearsed) monologue and the other part of me wants to call the cops and file a report for child abandonment..... but alas - I get further information that the bus driver did NOT just leave them - rather, they sat on the bus "waiting for parents to show up". I reminded Max about the note behind his name badge (because I knew this was going to happen) and asked if he showed the bus driver and he said no - but "FINALLY" when the driver took him and 2 other students back to the main summer school campus, a teacher looked and saw it. So an hour and half later he was delivered to the right place and luckily extended day remembered to hold lunch for him.

I have to say, I was pissed. Especially since there were countless emails and phone calls between myself and the principal, dual language program coordinator, transportation, and the extended day program. Mike went into the school yesterday and gave them h-e-double hockey sticks asking if they were going to be able to coordinate this today and not lose his son. The principal came out and apologized over herself - though I know this was not her fault - it was transportation - nobody bothered to tell the bus driver of his new stop.

Moral of the story - other than being terribly excited to tell me all about his troubling day - Max was not scared or worried about the situation at all... he was pissed and irritated and hungry - but not scared... THAT'S MY BOY!!!

Really?!?!?

And for dessert .... 4 fireman and 2 paramedics served hot and fast with flashing lights.....


So last night we sit down to dinner, nothing exciting.... fresh frozen veggies over pasta - NO SESAME seeds ( which I have been tested for and I am allergic to). Mike leaves - takes the kids to get haircuts. I start to feel an allergic reaction coming on - the itchy tingly reaction and I think - great - here we go again - WTF?!?! So I grab the children's benadryl - because it is in liquid form - take 50 mg worth and start to try and distract myself from scratching my skin off. I head to the packages of everything that was made for dinner to read the ingredients and make sure there were NO SESAME seeds in any of it. I then decide to walk around the house and just do stuff - anything - just not scratch or panic. I am standing at my grandfather clock winding it up, when all of a sudden I get this incredibly hot flushed feeling and everything swells - a reaction I have never had before. I turn around and look in the mirror and see that I am red as a lobster and my eyes are swollen. I start for the phone to call Mike, but then think - if I pass out, Mike will not know what is going on - you need to shoot yourself with the epipen first. So I head to the bathroom - grab the pen - and by this time my mother has called me (for no reason whatsoever, just a coincidence). I put her on speaker and I am trying to read the pen, but my vision has gone blurry and my throat is closing - all I can hear is my mother repeating - shoot yourself and call 911 - shoot yourself and call 911- over and over and over.

I finally shoot myself- I don't feel a thing, so I am certain I did not do it right, I call 911. The next thing I know - 6 fireman/paramedics are in my home hooking me up to all sorts of things, giving me oxygen, yadda yadda. I am shaking like a leaf and I ask them what is wrong and one of them says,"Did you just shoot yourself with this?" and I said yes and he that is it. Mike comes rushing home to a fire truck and ambulance in the front yard. By this time the pen has started to work and the symptoms have started to plateau - so I refuse the ambulance and go to the ER with Mike.

The epipen - not feeling a thing - part .... well - once everything calmed down - I saw that needle is about an inch long and my leg/thigh was throbbing and bruised because I punched so hard - so clearly what ever was happening in my body had taken over and I did not feel the pain of the shot at all at the time. Max did his part to "heal" me - he noticed me looking at the boo boo on my leg in the mirror and said - "I know, I know - I am gonna get you a bandaid - is a Transformer alright?" further calming the situation and taking the script from his mommy he starts cooing - "Ooooooh, mommy - look - it's a bumble-bee one - you like bumble-bee transformer, don't you?!!"

So - I have made my 3rd trip to the ER - for food allergies - each time getting a little more exciting than the last. So for those of you that are around me - please note - if while we are eating I start swelling up like Martin Short in that horrible B movie where he gets stung by a bee - please go into my purse and stab me with my epipen - I give you my permission......apparently, I won't feel it.