Introducing Marsha, the Badass

Yesterday was my first day back at work in weeks. And it started with a bang.

Well, it started off with a big meeting of the Operations Committee at the Palace, of which I am a member, even though I have (had) cancer and have been out of the loop for much of the last few months. Big meeting. We are working out the logistics of going to direct computer entry sales and 100% assigned seating.

General admission seating at the Palace has become a nightmare. But this is a great problem to have. It only exists because we are selling out, extending runs and selling those shows out too. General admission for a sold out show is rough. The people line up in droves outside the doors waiting to get in for the first come seating. Then the last groups in often have to split up and people get pretty pissy. The house managers are having a rough time with crowd control. So we need to sell tickets by seat numbers.

The process to implement this is going to be a little rough, but we gotta do it. We are just dealing with growing pains and we have to get through it. We open A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum next Friday and by then hope to have enough kinks worked out. We really need to be a-go for this production because we expect it won't sell out in the first few weekends. We need the practice before Superstar opens Feb 22. That is gonna be a killer, and we need to be ready for it.

Jackson has taken to being back at the theatre pretty well. Had a little breakdown yesterday when we got there, but quickly got over it and was pleasant, charming to everyone and took his nap as usual. Nice to have him sleep from 1 to 4 so I can work.

I am very happy to be back in the office selling tickets and watching the set go up and get painted. I love the smell of it. And just now it is exactly what I need.

And apparently I am trendy. Yes, me. Trendy. My hair, at not quite an inch in length, is none-the-less long enough that people think I have done this on purpose. I think my bad ass widow's peak does the trick. Or it could be the big eyes thing. I don't know. No fewer than 3 strangers have commented about my 'haircut.' I have twice been told I look like a punk rocker. How little they know. I am gratified that my decision to go out sans wig at this point hasn't resulted in points and stares, but anyone who knows me understands that never in a million years would I have done this on purpose. Heh, It was even suggested by someone at work that perhaps they think I am emulating Britney Spears. Um yeah.


November 2007, I was the chemo queen.


And now, Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you the new version, the punk-chic Marsha. May she burn out quickly and be replaced with the Katie Holmes version. (Am I making that gesture right? I'm new to this punk thing.)


Thanks to Andrea' for my new 'Goonies Never Say Die' T-shirt. I put it on (braless, of course) especially for this picture. It goes with the hair.

Uh oh, look at this. I seem to have relocated my sense of humor. Where have you been, buddy? I thought I had lost you during my last hospital stay.

What is it about normalcy that makes me positively giddy?