Can’t find the photo but it’ll turn up — my first attempt at Eulalie’s hairstyle. My hair is now long enough that I can screw it up into a topknot, with the added advantage that when I let it down it looks glorious. Tomorrow’s a real burn-out — choreography/staging from 3:30 to 9 with an hour break for dinner. I got so tired on Friday my brain shut off, and I was worried I wouldn’t be able to do the role. Tomorrow should tell the tale. It’s actually an easy role, so if I physically can’t do it it shouldn’t be that difficult for someone to take my place.
Except I’m absolutely meant for this role. I know Eulalie so well — she isn’t me, but she has a lot in common with me. I see her as a cross between Lucy in “Peanuts” and Margaret Dumont from the Marx Brothers’ movies. She has a marvelously high opinion of herself ( like moi) but absolutely no sense of humor, particularly about herself (unlike moi). And I love her, and sympathize with her, and know her heart.
So I’m going to do it if there’s any way I can. Because for some reason it’s just so much damned fun. I sat around listening to the first read through and it was just a series of delights. We’ve lucked out and got a marvelous Winthrop (the little boy) and Marian is Marla Schlafel, last year’s Maria and a Tony nominee, and Harold Hill is so good I’m in awe. It’s just such a treat to be doing. Not sure if I’d be having as much fun if it weren’t a musical — we’re also doing Our Town and I don’t think I’d be having nearly as good a time.
I hope there’ll be something I can do next year. The thing is, I don’t want to be in competition for a role. I don’t like competitiveness — it’s not good for me. So I’m hoping they’ll have a part in mind for me next year, as they did this year. Though not every play has such an easy, juicy part.
I imagine I’ll sail through the anniversary of my mother’s death (or get through it fairly well). I’ll probably get weepy some time in October or so when I don’t expect it — that’s the way these things work.
It even looks as if the rains will come to a stop.
I don’t understand why people like to be competitive. The other am/dram (amateur dramatics, as Mini-me called them) group around here is a very closed, clique-ish group, and since this town has always been closed and clique-ish I don’t need to attempt to join another group like that.
Best moment so far — when someone sets a firecracker off beneath Eulalie’s skirts and swoons into her husband’s arms claiming “George, I’ve been shot.”
Unfortunately the Mayor is about 85 and weighs about 130 pounds soaking wet. When I threw myself into his arms he staggered back, and I nearly squashed him like a bug. Let’s hope I don’t crippled him before the run is through.
Photos as soon as possible. It really is going to be glorious, and I won’t worry about next year until it comes. After all, even just singing in the chorus makes me happy.
So, choreography tomorrow. Too much time on my feet on a hot, muggy day.
It’ll be glorious. If it doesn’t kill me first.
I’m putting this under “Making things” since it’s part of random creativity. I’m getting anxious to write as well,
So while many of you will travel to Atlanta and do the publisher dance, I will be doing the “Shipoopi” and having the time of my life.