So you'd think that since I haven't posted in so long that nothing interesting was going on in my life. But then you'd be wrong, my friend. I seem to be unable to post when I have too much going on in my life. Rehearsals for Steel Magnolias, memorizing lines. Oh and that Lasik thing.

Yup. After 22 years of increasing levels of blindness, I am now free of glasses and contacts. Hurrah! Of course, it wasn't that easy. No, no, my life needs more interesting fodder for storytelling than simply "Hey, I got my eyes fixed and it was great." There simply has to be an epic tale to tell. So if you want the short version stop with this paragraph. If you want the epic...read on.

It started so simply. I decided to to finally take the plunge and get it done. Made an appt with my eye doctor in April and found that while I am very blind, I am actually a candidate for Lasik. When I say very blind I mean that 20/20 is a 0 and I am a -12. 90% of people who wear contacts or glasses are a -6 or better. And I am (was) twice that. But testing showed me to have abnormally thick corneas. This is a good thing considering that they reshape your eye, basically shaving it with a laser and the more prescription you have the more reshaping needs to be done. So I am (was) a freak with legally blind vision and crazy-thick corneas.

I wanted to get it done right away, but there were two complications. I needed to be out of my contact lenses for at least 2 weeks prior to the surgery and I was performing in Robin Hood. Maid Marian could not wear coke-bottle-lensed glasses. So we put the surgery off till after Robin Hood closed and I could wear my glasses full time for two endless weeks.

June 14th was the big day. And I cannot begin to tell you how ready I was. Wearing my glasses was difficult for me. It was hard to see because the level of prescription I have gives no peripheral vision and lends a serious feeling of vulnerability to a girl. And I found myself slipping into behaviors and body language that I hadn't seen since I was a sophomore in High School and got my first pair of contact lenses. Couldn't look people in the eye for more than a second and didn't want them to look at me. Kept my head down and shoulders hunched. Protected my space in a way that reminded me of junior high. How you had to be very careful who got too close to you, cause if the smartass boy took your glasses and passed them around the cafeteria to see how blind you are, you'd be virtually helpless till they gave them back. Really -I was that blind. And wearing my glasses reminded me of the precarious position compromised eyesight can place you in. Add to that the fact that I was not taking my headache prevention meds cause they cause dry eyes and was starting to suffer from increased headaches. I was cranky about it and ready to get the surgery.

And at 7:11 am on June 14th, the laser center called to tell me not to come. They calibrate the laser each morning at this morning it came up with an error code. It either works at 100%, or it turns itself off. And there would be no surgeries performed that day. I was devastated. I had been telling myself 5 more days, 2 more days, etc. and couldn't imaging having to wait longer.

But I had to wait. It just so happens that the laser center was moving to its swanky new offices the very next day. That meant they had to shut down and move the lasers, recalibrate them and the FDA had to re certify them before I could get my surgery done. They were very vague on when they could do it, but I finally got them to work out a plan for me personally. My eye doctor is the wife of the man that runs the laser center and I was considered a priority patient. The plan was that they would do their damnedest to get the lasers functional and approved by Tuesday AM and call me in on Tues Afternoon to end my suffering. But we wouldn't know till last minute whether this would happen or not. So I waited. And waited.

Monday evening my doc's assistant called to tell me it didn't look good and to not plan on getting in on Tues. I tried to ask what the alternate plan was, Wed? Thurs? But Joe was just the assistant and had no answers. They would call me with more news.

Tuesday came and I got no call from them. I waited till 3pmish and called them myself. Somebody needed to tell me something. I could not put this off forever. Steel Magnolias opens on July 13th and I understood light sensitivity to be a common side effect of the surgery. Not a good thing when you are standing under stage lights. The flunkies reported - cheerily - that I was being schedule for the next Tuesday, another week away! Why? I asked. Why next week? Well, it seems the surgeon at the laser center was taking his vacation. Leaving tomorrow, so it was either the failed Tuesday plan or next week. I almost calmly asked to speak with my doctor. She'd call me back.

In the meantime, while I fumed, madder than I have ever been in my life, I started calling the other 5 or 6 state of the art laser centers in Austin with my story. Mann Eye Institute said come in tomorrow for scans and if you are cleared, we'll do it Thursday.

When my doc finally returned my call, I told her I had fired her husband's laser center and wanted to go to Mann. And my wonderful doc gave me no shit about it and helped me get my records over to the new place. I think she understood how shitty it was that I was being put off another week so the surgeon could go on vacation.

Mann Eye Institute was wonderful, first class, treated me well, got me - a complicated patient- in for surgery with two days notice. They agreed to co-manage me with my eye doctor and let me do all my follow-up with her. Which is important to me because she runs a child friendly office. All the exam rooms have toys in the corner and they encourage me to bring Jackson along.

So I am now a week post surgery and am seeing nearly 20/20. I am told my vision will improve even more once I heal further and take care of the dryness that is a common side effect.

This is pretty life changing. I have identified myself as being blind for so long. It is hard to grasp that the disability is gone. That I am not just wearing my contacts. That what I am seeing is produced solely by my own eyeballs. Very weird. I have a hard time getting into bed at night. I have such a feeling of wrongness when I walk to my bed with perfect vision. It feels like I have simply forgotten to take out my lenses.

Maybe I needed it to be an epic struggle to make it real somehow. It's a personality trait (flaw?). I somehow need to fight or suffer for something for me to appreciate it. Silly huh?

Just wanted to post a couple pics of my fantastic hubby playing the disturbing Edward Rutledge. Hate the character, not the actor...

Opening nights have a special flavor and excitement to them. And last night was no different. Last night 1776 opened at the Palace to an appreciative crowd of about 120. Andrea and I had a girls date. Dinner at the Wildfire and then the show. We ate too much, spent too much and gabbed plenty. And the show, oh the show!

1776 is a little-known musical, but I don't know why. I love it. Of course in addition to being a theater lover, I am also a history lover. And early US history is my favorite period of study. So I guess I am just destined to love a musical that combines both these things. But more than that, I think it is well written, the music is catchy, lyrical, comedic and at times poignant and biting. The writers walked a fine line in keeping the subject matter fun and entertaining, but throwing in reminders that this was serious business and that these men were signing a treasonous document and that many, many people would lose their lives over the decisions that they made that summer in 1776.

But my real pleasure of the night was witnessing my husband's command performance. It is an established fact that David is a gifted actor and a beautifully talented singer, but this time he has shown more depth and range than ever before. He auditioned for this show feeling certain, because of his height, good looks and tenor voice, to be cast as Thomas Jefferson. A role he could have done very well and done it in his sleep. Instead, what he really wanted was to play Edward Rutledge, the continental congressman from South Carolina. It is a relatively small role, but a pivotal one. Rutledge is not the standard goofy guy/leading man type David usually plays. He is one of the dissenters. He steadfastly refuses to endorse the Declaration of Independence as long as it contains the abolition of slavery.

Not a historically popular stance indeed. But in the show Rutledge disdainfully rejects John Adams' and Ben Franklin's claims that slavery is a dirty southern custom and gets right to the uncomfortable truth that it was the northern sailors who went to Africa selling bibles and rum to buy the slaves in the first place. They may not have held slaves in their homes, but they profited greatly from the triangle trade. And this point he makes in a show stopping musical number called 'Molasses to Rum'. It is a creepy song, designed to make you uncomfortable, even though it is geniusly and beautifully written. And this is the song my husband desperately wanted to perform. It requires both a strong actor and a strong vocalist and holy shit did he bring down the house!

We have been wondering how the audience would react to the number. Would they be silent? Would they clap? Would they boo? Well last night they cheered and applauded. And with good reason. David was magnificent, adding the perfect expressions to throw the point into John Adams' face and the vocal dexterity he showed was the best I have ever heard from him on stage. We all know what a fabulous leading man he is, but after this show, he has proved his stellar chops include a depth and passion that everyone can appreciate.

I am so proud. Sigh.

Go see the show!!!

www.thegeorgetownpalace.org

Just got home from the read-thru of Steel Magnolias. I guess I didn't mention it before, but I got cast as Shelby in the Palace production that will open July 13th. It is funny how things happen. I never in a million years thought I would be playing the Julia Roberts part in Steel Magnolias. The show has just never spoken to me on a Southern level. I was born and raised in Texas, but my parents are Yankees from Pennsylvania. I don't have a southern Grandma feeding people and saying things like "I swanee." I simple was never interested in doing the show.

But when the scripts came in a couple of weeks ago, I decided to read it to see if I changed my mind, and I did. Not because I love the colors blush and bashful, or feel any more at home in a home-based beauty parlor. But because I am a mom now. When you have a child everything changes, they tell you that, but it really is true. I cried when I read the script. Because I can relate to Shelby who wants a child so badly she is willing to stupidly risk her life to have one. I relate to M'Lynn's trauma of dealing with her sick daughter and the pain of losing her. I just wanted to be a part of the show that shows how women can play the odds in life and win or lose, be surrounded and supported by her women friends.

So after a grueling 3-hour callback audition, I got the role of Shelby. And I have to find a way to relate to a woman who loves pink to distraction and has to have the absolute perfect color of nail polish or the day will be a failure. Luckily the script is well-written and the cast is great. It should be just enough of a challenge and good time had by all.

Here is the question of the century. Why do I blame my husband every time my son poops in the tub?

Really? This isn't a one time thing. Of late, Jackson has decided that his nightly bath ritual should include mommy screaming and snatching him out of the tub while yelling "David, get in here, there's poop!"

I am in the beginning stages of potty training with Jackson. We have a potty chair and several times a day I ask Jackson if he wants to sit on his potty. He is usually excited to do it and runs to the bathroom. He has not, as of yet, actually put any waste into the potty, but I have hope that will come.

I just have this irrational reaction towards my husband. I somehow think it is his fault. I yell at him and make him deal with it whenever I can. Maybe it is because he just thinks it's so damned funny. Maybe it is his fault because he is in charge of washing Jackson and Jackson pretty much only poops when we leave the room for a minute. Maybe it is his fault because, as anyone who knows my husband knows, he finds flatulence entertaining like a 5th grader and is known for it far and wide. So the pooping in the tub gene must come from him. I don't know.

All I know is that the instant the poop hits the water, my poor husband takes the blame.

7 Random Facts About Me!

This is a tag from Stella's mom, Julie!

Here are the rules: Each player starts with 7 random facts/habits about themselves. People who are tagged need to write on their own blog about their seven things, as well as these rules. You need to choose 7 people to get tagged and list their names. Don't forget to leave them a comment telling them that they have been tagged and to read your blog!

1) I have nightmares. Rarely ever just plain old dreams, just nightmares. Haunted houses, serial killers entering my bedroom, spiders, lots of spiders. I tend to wake up yelling and grabbing for David, who has gotten used to it.

2) I took my brother to my senior prom. Didn't have a date - no one asked me : ( I am actually not bitter. It was a boring prom, really. In our school cafeteria and all the DJ played was suck-ass country music. I wished for a life anywhere but in Florence, Texas that night.

3) I have always wanted to be 4 inches taller. I am 5 feet even and as a little girl, I was told that to be in the Miss America Pageant you had to be at least 5 foot 4 inches. I actually don't know if that is true or not, but it stuck with me and I have always felt that physical beauty meant being at least 4 inches taller than I am. I am about over it now, at 30. But anyway...


4) I once won $625 on a pull of a slot machine in Vegas. Lights and sirens went off, a man in a tux came over and handed me the money. It was the most exhilarating moment ever. I stopped gambling for the night, and bought a $30 shot of tequila at the bar and listened to the band they had playing for the rest of the night.

5) In second grade I found a classmate, Lindsay's math homework on the floor, erased her name and turned it in as my own. I did this for two reasons. One - I hated math even then and knew her work was much more likely to be correct than mine. And two - the teachers had just handed out parts to the spring musical, Song of the South- without auditions as usual -and even though I wanted desperately to have a real part, they said I was too little and quiet and had to stand on the risers in the back and sing Zippidy do dah with the chorus. And who got the lead part - without auditioning? You guessed it - Lindsay. I remember that I felt bad when she couldn't find her homework and started crying, but it was too late, I had already done it and it didn't occur to me that I could confess. The teacher gave her credit anyway cause, well, it was Lindsay.

6) My favorite all time movie is Goonies. Growing up I always wanted adventure. Treasure hunting, swashbuckling adventure. I used to bury things and draw maps to them. We had 7 acres of land so this game got rather extensive and I am sure there is costume jewelry still buried somewhere out at my Mom's house.

7) I don't care for chocolate ice cream. I am reminded lately how kids adore chocolate ice cream and think vanilla is just lame. I never understood this as a kid. I much prefer vanilla with a little chocolate sauce or strawberries or something added. Chocolate is too sweet and overpowering. Vanilla ice cream for me - especially Amy's Mexican Vanilla. Mmmmmmmm.

So I tag: Andrea', Joni, Ronni, Cici, Elaine, Lynn, and Kris

Yesterday was my first Acupuncture appointment. I decided to see if Eastern Medicine can help me with the vertigo and my insurance actually will pay some of it.

And after one appt I can't really tell you if it works or not. They want to see me twice a week for a bit then they will taper it down. They seem to think they can help me. And they can treat my allergies and cough too. I have had a chronic cough since Sept last year and I am ready for it to go away.

First, I want to say that acupuncture is not the painless, relaxing, zen treatment I expected. Christine, the acupuncturist, pretty much told me that the placement of the needles for my treatment might cause some 'discomfort'. Seems if you go in for relaxation or other mild treatments, you barely feel the needles. But to tackle vertigo and migraines it is a little more extensive.

The first needles she put in my forehead I felt only as a little pinch. Same with my scalp, and belly. But then she started putting them in my legs and it wasn't the needles that hurt, it was the surge that went down my leg that did it. Then several more that didn't hurt and then in the side of my foot, near my big toe. Those hurt. And the couple in my wrists sent electrical funny bone-like surges into my hands and that was not fun. But after a minute it stopped hurting and I was able to relax. Christine commented on my high pain tolerance. Heh. Natural Childbirth, lady. A few painful needle sticks can't compete.

After about 20 minutes of me lying in the dark listening to zen music Christine came in and removed the needles. Then she massaged my forehead with a bit of menthol oil That was really nice.

I am still feeling dizzy and queasy today, so I am not sure about that. But I can report that my cough is better. Not gone, but better. Less tight and itchy in my chest and less powerful. So I don't know. Maybe there is something to this. Or maybe I am just letting people stick needles in my nerves for no reason.

Texas Senate Passes Bill Requiring Abortion Seekers to Hold Newborn during Procedure.
Today in Texas, in an unprecedented move to preserve women's health, the Senate overwhelmingly approved a bill requiring women seeking abortions to hold and cuddle a newborn while undergoing the procedure.

Dufus McCrackhead (R) sponsored the bill saying "Not being required to hold a newborn during abortions has long been a danger to women's health and I am glad today that Texas has taken this great leap forward to protect these poor women."

When asked where the newborns would come from McCrackhead replied "Oh, that's easy. See we take all the unwanted children born to Texas women who can't get CHIP and Medicaid and we distribute them to clinics all over the state. It's all for the common good, see?"

******************************

Here is the real story.

http://www.statesman.com/news/content/region/legislature/stories/05/03/3abortion.html

When will it all end? I am not pro-abortion, but I sure as hell am and will always be pro-choice. But I am really beginning to think we should just overturn Roe v Wade and then women can set up their own secret clinics and seek help in private with less harassment and our government can stop spending inordinate amounts of time and money on this one and only topic. We can then try to focus on electing candidates based on their plans to improve the lives of the children already here instead of saving those who aren't.

Can the Texas Legislature please return to trying to fix the goddam broken school system and property taxes instead of trying to shame women, control their bodies and tell doctors how to practice medicine?

Our oral hygiene plan seems to be working ok so far. Last night, David held him and kept his hands out of the way and I attacked his teeth with the brush and a dab of toddler toothpaste. It seems to me that when I have been trying to get in there, his fighting me has been sorta unsure. Like he doesn't cry, he just fusses and he will open up and let me in and then laugh nervously and push me away. Well last night, with David's help he couldn't stop me and he pretty much giggled the whole time. It seems like it might tickle or just feel funny. He isn't sure about the feeling somehow. And today, I brushed his teeth myself by laying him down on the bathroom counter, leaning over him and holding his hands in mine. Same reaction. Kinda wants me to do it, kinda doesn't. But hopefully with repetition, he will get used to it and accept it as just one of those things we do. Like the carseat.

And I got to thinking how lucky I am after his bath, when I asked him if he was ready for bed and he got himself a toy and headed to his room. I put him in the crib and he said "night night" like I always do. And he was so excited to say it. "Look what I can do, Mommy!" So sweet. And I get to punch out for the day.

Which is good since I had a killer migraine after work today and am still battling the vertigo. Went back to the doc today and she changed my meds. I wonder if I am ever going to be well again. Seems like I have been sick in some way for a year. It is getting old for sure. I wish we could figure out the cause of the vertigo and some way to fix it. If it continues for another week, they want me to see an ENT specialist. I hope it just goes away. I am tired of throwing money at doctors. I know I am lucky to have health insurance and access to care, but it seems like every time I go to the doc it costs me $100 I can't really spare and I am still feeling sick anyway. Blech. Tired of being sick.

But at least I have a sweet toddler who tells me 'night night' and sometimes gives me kisses. Sometimes, when he is feeling particularly generous.

So I am a little less annoyed this morning after my google advice breakdown. It was just for me, the last straw in the parenting advice realm. David and I were discussing it and how it seems that for every toddler problem, the internet has one solution - make a game out of it. Can't get your kid to help pick up his toys - game. Won't eat? Game. Won't dress? Game.

I guess I just got fed up with the pervasive idea that I have to be my son's 24 hour entertainment director instead of his mom. When do we stop playing games and simply enforce acceptable behavior? Why does everything have to be fun - at my expense? I shouldn't have to do things that I don't want to do just so my toddler can have fun doing the things he doesn't want to do. I am an adult and I have earned the right to make my happiness come first. And what would make me happy is to get dressed and brushed and changed quickly and efficiently so that we can get on with the real fun in life -those things outside the realm of hygiene.

Sigh. I guess I am not less annoyed after all.

I defy you, modern parenting!

O.k. So maybe I am a bad mom. What brought this on? Toothbrushing. I am having a difficult time getting Jackson's teeth brushed and barely manage to get the brush in his mouth before he goes into wrestling mode to make it stop. And I have let it go on too long.

This is not what makes me a bad mom. I am good in that I have spent an hour or so googling to get advice on how to brush a physically resistant and determined toddler's teeth. I am a bad mom because I don't like the answer. And I may be unwilling and unable to do what the majority of parents are doing.

The overwhelming advice of parents? "Make it fun!" It seems that twice a day parents of small children are making fun, theatrical, multi-faceted entertainment extravaganzas out of the simple necessity of tooth brushing. And I am not going to farking do it.

I am not exactly sure why I can dance around the living room singing and playing with Jackson but won't do the same to accomplish a hygiene goal. Actually, I am sure why. Because there is play time and there is hygiene time and tooth brushing isn't supposed to be an entertaining endeavor. It is a habit you develop to avoid social and physical pain. And I don't want to make what should be a few minute ritual into another event that must be made fun so that your child will decide to go along with your idea of brushing their teeth. It isn't an option and I am balking at the idea that you must beg, plead and trick your kids into doing what you want them to do.

I don't want to make tooth brushing fun. I just want to make it mandatory and second nature. Do I have to put on the purple dinosaur costume in sacrifice of dental hygiene? I don't think so. Jackson will just have to learn that he doesn't get his way all the time and this is one of those times that, just like getting dressed and diaper changes, he can protest all he wants, but I am still going to do it.

Routine is so important to small children. Tonight I said "Jackson, are you ready to go night night?" His response was to run to the TV, turn it off and head to his room. Just like I do in the morning at nap time. After sesame street and before doodlebops... Morning is time for a bit of TV - Playhouse Disney mostly - after work is an hour or so of outside running around time and evening is bath time. He doesn't watch TV except in the morning, but he knows that turning the TV off is a sleep signal. Or he doesn't want me to search for CSI re-runs all night.

Here I am signing programs as Maid Marian on Saturday. Robin Hood opened well this week/weekend to scores of happy kids. Tuesday and Wednesday were the shows for schools. Local private and pre-schools brought their classes those days and this weekend we opened to the public. Things went much better than I expected after our single dress rehearsal - in which any and all costume/props mishaps that could happen, did. Wigs fell off, keys fell off their key rings at inopportune times and we were just generally distracted by the costumes as most casts are the first time they wear them. I had to adjust my way of moving to accommodate the train of the dress. But I have worn gowns in shows before, so I'd had a little practice with it. Of course, this show involves much more running around than past period pieces I have been in.

But the shows were well attended and well received and I am glad it has turned out so well. But that doesn't mean there aren't parts I sure would like another shot at as the writer. There are a few bits that are simply not funny enough. For instance when Robin Hood comes out and rummages in his bag for a proper disguise, I knew he should pull out a few items that wouldn't work at all. And I didn't spend much time thinking about it as I was on a deadline. So the first things I thought of were (1) a clown wig and (2) groucho nose/glasses and (3) a giant pair of granny panties. I remember at the time that I wrote it that it wasn't really silly enough and that I wanted to go back to it. But during the editing read-thru at my house, no one raised objections to it and I was focusing my re-writes on the things that came up then. So it stayed in as written and now that we have an audience, I realize my initial thoughts were right. It just isn't funny - except the panties, those are funny. Panties are always funny. The rest isn't painful or anything, but I can clearly see how the moment could be improved. I chatted with Elaine a bit about it and she immediately suggested a snorkel and a tutu. Man, I wish I'd workshopped that bit because a snorkel would be much funnier than the groucho glasses. Instead of saying the groucho glasses were too cliche, he could say "I could use this snorkel to swim to the jail where they have Little John..." and the kids could object that there isn't any water. That would be much better. And the tutu could be tiny and wouldn't fit him. Or any number of things. I just wish I could go back and solicit better ideas of unusable disguises for him to pull out of the bag. I am just not happy with the bit as written.

I guess every playwright finds things he or she wished they had written differently. But overall the script is funny and I am ok with it. I will definitely go in for another editing round before I shop it to publishers though. I know what needs tweaked -and I'm not afraid to do it...

The daily CNN Poll today asks "Are campuses more dangerous than other public places?" I voted with the 90 percent that said no. That is my gut instinct. I feel that safety is an illusion and danger in the form of accidents and sickos is always closer than you realize. Not a cheery outlook, I know.

But upon thinking about my answer, I considered whether I would want to be a middle school or high school student today and I have to answer "Hell no!" I think the relative safety I experienced at my small middle-of-nowhere school district were a sort of end of days. Graduated in 94. After Waco. But before Columbine. I don't think I had ever heard of a school shooting while I was there. I never once went to school in fear for my life. I feel lucky. And terrified of what the next 20 years will bring as I think about how best to school my own children. I can only imagine what the families of the dead in Virginia must be going through and I hope against hope I never have to do more than imagine.

I am not a religious person. But I don't discount the possibilities of what may be after we die. And I had a moment while watching the news that I started to imagine the time just after the shooter had taken his own life. I imagined a scene where the souls of the victims stood over the carnage waiting to see what the afterlife held for them. And amongst them came the shooter. Dead himself. What would that moment be like? The victims and the perpetrator all standing as spirits among the carnage together. Waiting. Wonder if they would have anything to say to him. Now that the power of his guns could not be held over them, now that they were all on equal footing. What would they do? It would have to be a moment of pure honesty, him to them and them to him. I wonder if they would ask him why. Or if it simply wouldn't matter to them at all.

Immediately, my thoughts turn to theatre. And how, as in The Laramie Project, theatre is uniquely suited to exploring such powerful and painful questions. My mind is buzzing.

I went to a swanky party this weekend as Andrea's date. It was a benefit for Planet Cancer, a group that helps 20/30 somethings who have cancer. The theme was pink flamingoes and they handed out feather boas at the door to everyone. It was held at a penthouse loft on 5th Street. Probably a $2 or $3 million dollar home. But it was one of those places that is so swanky and trendy that they didn't bother to finish out the place and called it done. The cement floors were nicely stained, but the concrete pillars here and there and the fact that there weren't doors between rooms or walls that reached the ceiling was a little too modern for me. It seemed ultra-cool and coldly unlivable. It would be nice to have the rooftop patio and the view of downtown, but other than that it felt like a really really nice, modern hotel suite, and not someplace that anyone actually called home.

The place was jam-packed when we got there and I could tell I was not going to be comfortable enough to relax, have lots to drink and party with everyone. But I knew it was going to be fabulous people watching. A friend and I sat watching the impeccably dressed social elite and tried to decide who did what for a living. It was probably the best people watching I've had in years. And though the people were obviously hipper and/or younger and much richer than me, I didn't feel out of place or anything. Plus there was an open bar all night, so it isn't hard to feel confident in yourself when you are the only one sober. And my group behaved pretty well, even though there was much to drink. Though Andrea' and I did get our picture taken in the swimming pool of the bathtub for fun. And the crowd kept inciting us to 'kiss! kiss!' - you can imagine. And the drunken Andrea' puckered right up and there is photo proof that I took her up on the invite. But you won't see that here.

She didn't even remember the bathtub scene and called me the next day when she downloaded the pics. "We kissed in the bathtub? OMG!" I assured her there was no tongue involved and nothing remotely 'girls gone wild'. Heh, All I could think at the time was about the Miss Nevada who just got canned for such pics ending up on the internet. Wonder what I will get fired from. The PTA in 8 years?

The title of this blog is "Biggest load of shit I've heard all month" or "How many times can I use the word 'menstruate' in one post?".

I was not very seriously researching amenorreah - when really skinny women stop menstruating - because a friend asked me if I knew how little body fat you'd have to have to stop menstruating. Her daughter asked her and we were casually discussing it. So I looked around online and found this guy.

Ron Brown - not a doctor. A fitness trainer "who doesn't have an inch of flab on his body" believes that these female athletes don't menstruate, not because they don't have enough body fat for their body to function correctly, but because they are healthier than the rest of us. He postulates that female athletes with amenorrhea can get pregnant because they haven't really stopped ovulating as the lack of menstruation would suggest. Then he says this:


"One proposed explanation is that the extra blood that drains out of the uterus following ovulation is reabsorbed back UP into a fit woman's general circulation. On the other hand, in a relatively unfit woman with poorer pelvic circulation, less pelvic muscle tone, and more pelvic weight from stored abdominal body fat, extra blood draining from the uterus following ovulation hemorrhages DOWN into the vaginal canal. Pathologists point out that hemorrhaging in any part of the body is never a sign of a healthy and normal physiological process.

Could it be that the ovulating fit woman with less vaginal blood flow associated with periods is actually healthier and more normal physiologically? If so, this would override any apparent need for a woman to raise her body fat level in order to stay healthy."


Ok. So really all of us menstruating women of the world, past, present and future - why, we're just fat and out of shape. Otherwise we would DEFY the laws of fertility and gravity and use our toned abs to push the menstrual blood back UP into our systems. What a fucking moron. We don't menstruate - we hemorrhage. Thanks, Mister Ron Brown - Not a Doctor. You really showed me the error of my menstruating ways. "Pathologists point out"...my ass!

http://www.bodyfatguide.com/Amenorrhea.htm

I went to the doctor today. I have been having symptoms of vertigo since Friday, sometimes really bad. And at first I just assumed that it was because I stopped taking the Pamelor that I have been on to prevent headaches. But it has been 12 days since I stopped taking it and this is just too much. I confirmed that with my headache doctor who said that though people do sometimes experience withdrawal from stopping cold turkey, it would have started within a day and would be done by now. So I went to the GP to see if they could help me.

Sometimes I think that going to the doc is pointless unless you are really really sick, and then it is best to just go to the ER. My visit today didn't change my mind any. The ADC clinic by my house is wonderful about getting you in same day and they are usually not very busy when you get there. But the nurse had me diagnosed before we got in the room. I am going to steal a construct from Travis to tell you how it went.


Nurse: So what are you here for?
Me: I'm dizzy and queasy and feel like I am going to fall over most of the time.
Nurse: Hmph, under a hundred pounds. No wonder. Are you eating?
Me: Yes.
Nurse: What. What did you eat today?
Me: Um, bowl of cereal...chicken sandwich for lunch...
Nurse: Mmmhmm
Me: Goddammit I am not anorexic, I'm dizzy!

Ok, so I didn't say that. I let her just assume that the anorexic girl doesn't feel good and just needs to eat. She must have said something to the doc though, because he asked me about my weight loss. My chart has me a few -like 2 pounds- heavier on my last visit. He said 'Are you trying to lose weight?" Noooo! I'm dizzy. I'm in a show, I'm busy. I often have no appetite. When I do make myself something to eat, my kid eats it half the time. But I am not anorexic.

Of course, denying it does no good. Just like if you ever say to someone "I am not an alcoholic," pretty much everyone assumes that you are. But dammit, really. I do not push food around on my plate to make it look like I have eaten. I don't lie and say I've eaten when I have not. I don't stuff my face and throw up. I do not have a eating disorder. I have vertigo. The doc even got around to deciding that. I think the fact that he was like a 100 pounds himself helped. He knows that sometimes being small just means that you are small. And being dizzy is just dizzy.

I don't know if I have vertigo or not. He did this head tilt thing on me to see if my eyes moved in a certain way, but they didn't. He decided that I have it anyway. It seemed the appointment only consisted of (a) rule out anorexia (b) rule out recent head trauma (c) diagnose vertigo and if it doesn't get better in 2 weeks look for something else.

He called in a prescription for meclazine - the standard. So I guess I will get that and see if it helps. I just am trying to get off of all the drugs so that we can thing about sraby #2. The thought of taking another pill is off-putting. But maybe it will only be for a few days.

When Mommy is away....

Here is the email my husband sent out to several family and friends while I was out at rehearsal the other night:

"Jackson discovered the smoker opens today and decided to play with the ashes. I suppose I was supposed to stop him, but ran and got the camera instead. Kind of unfortunate, as it doesn't show how nice and smudgey his face really got. Marsha goes to rehearsal and we play with ashes and rusty iron doors. Yay! David"

He even included several pics of their not very healthy adventure. Enjoy.

Been meaning to do this one from Julie.

Wedding Meme:

1. Where/How did you meet? At Sam Bass Theatre auditions for "Chicago" the original stage play, not the musical. Coincidentally (or not) I met my best friend and several more of my core friends on the same day. February, 2001.

2. How long have you known each other?: That would be a little over 6 years.

3. How long after you met did you start dating?: I was married to someone else at the time, so my attraction to him was not an option. We started an 'innocent' email friendship during rehearsals for Chicago in March. Then in May, when it became obvious to us that it wasn't so innocent, I went home to my husband and he started dating someone else (someone who is today, a dear friend to us both). David and I did not communicate at all for almost 3 months. I was trying to stay married to my troubled alcoholic husband and he was trying not to dwell on the married woman. And I didn't want to stick my nose into what could have been a long term relationship for him. But then he and his girlfriend broke up that August. I emailed him my condolences on the very day I found out and we instantly picked up where we left off, all illusions of 'just being friends' gone for good.

4. How long did you date before you were engaged?: 1 year and 4 months. Got engaged on Friday the 13th of December 2002. Got home from work to a house full of flowers. He'd bought HEB out of pink and red carnations and had them in vases, and mugs all over the house. He'd cooked dinner, steak and shrimp, and even bought wine, though he doesn't drink. After dinner, he brought out the ring and asked me to marry him. It was amazing. Then we had fifteen minutes to get to the theatre for call. We were both in "Annie", as in little orphan. And we went on that night as usual. But what a great day it was!

Interestingly, until he brought out the ring I had no clue he was going to propose that night. You'd think the flowers would have tipped me off, but they didn't. See, the same day, my Christmas present for him was delivered to the house, sans gift-wrapping. And I thought he just felt bad for ruining yet another surprise. He is the man that can't be surprised btw - nother story...

5. How long was your engagement?:11 months

6. How long have you been married?: 3+ years

7. What is your anniversary?: October 25, 2003

8. How many people came to your wedding reception: About 80

9. What kind of cake did you serve? Honestly, those things are so unimportant to me I don't remember. I remember how they were decorated, but I don't remember the flavors, fillings. Whatever Andrea' told me to do, that is what we did.

The bride's cake was square, though and two tiers stacked on top of one another, but not in the same direction. And there were flowers on it. Very pretty. The groom's cake was chocolate and we did have the comedy/tragedy masks on top. Andrea' and David drew it for the decorator.

10. Where was your wedding?: The Inn at Salado. They had a tiny old chapel moved onto their grounds and restored and it is right next to their pavilion where the reception was. It was an open-air pavilion when we were there, but they have since enclosed it. I liked it open better.

11. What did you serve for your meal?: Um..nother one I can't quite remember. Andrea'? What did you tell me to get? Whatever she said to get. Turkey breast, I think and mashed potatoes and veggies and rolls and stuff. I didn't eat. I can't eat when I am nervous or emotional or there is too much going on. But Mom and Andrea' took care of me. There is a picture of me sucking down a slimfast in my wedding gown before the ceremony. Can't eat, but don't want to pass out = Slimfast and straw. Force fed if necessary, right Mom?

12. How many people were in your bridal party?: 3 bridesmaids, 3 Groomsmen and 1 Groomswoman. She wore a black gown of her choosing, though I tried to talk her into a tuxedo. She looked fabulous, though.

13. Are you still friends with them all?: Yes

14. Did your spouse cry during the ceremony?: Yup. I was fine till he started crying. Then it was all over.

15. Most special moment of your wedding day?: Hmmm. We decided to take most of the pictures before the wedding so as not to waste any Guy Forsyth time afterwards. But Joni made sure that David and I had a special moment before since we wouldn't have that special 'reveal' monent at the ceremony. When I was dressed and ready, everyone left the little cottage and Joni sent him in. We hugged and cried a little and had our time alone, then we went out for pictures.

Also, dancing to Guy Forsyth singing "Children of Jack" for our first dance. Which we snuck in when no one was looking. I am uncomfortable with too much ceremonial attention focused on me, so instead of waiting for someone to announce a first dance and draw attention to us, Guy started singing a song I loved and I said, "Let's dance." And it was nice. Leanne had to run for Joni who was inside photographing the cake, since I hadn't given her any warning. Sorry, Joni. That is just how I had to do it. Uncontrived. And you got great pictures of it anyway.

16. Any funny moments?: The 50 person dance-line started by Kyle and Andrea' was pretty awesome.

18. Where did you go on your honeymoon?: New Orleans. Glad we saw it pre-Katrina

19. If you were to do your wedding over, what would you change? Hmmm. Not sure. It was pretty bad-ass. Kyle performed the ceremony, which we wrote. My dearest friends and family were there. Guy Forsyth played a kick-ass couple of sets for us. Free photography, florist, and officiant. We spent less than $7k and it was at the perfect location. Weather was great. Sunny then got chilly that evening.

Oh! I know! At the end of the reception, while David and I were on a carriage ride through Salado, Andrea' filled the huge Jacuzzi tub in our cottage for us. Except she put in like half a bottle of bubble bath. And ask yourself what happens to bubbles when you turn on Jacuzzi jets. Yup. We got back, got in the tub together and proceeded to be smothered by Andrea's well-intentioned bubbles. It took us five minutes to find the off switch in the mass of bubbles pouring from the tub. It was fun, but not quite the romantic ending you expect. So we got dressed and Crashed Kyle and Dave's room for some champagne and the left-over food the staff had wrapped up for us.

Heh, when Kyle and I went to the kitchen to heat the food, there was a group of little old ladies playing cards there who wanted to know if our wedding - Mine and Kyle's - had gone well.

21. What side of the bed do you sleep on?: Right. Even though I believe that is traditionally the man's side. Is it? Or am I just making that up?

22. What size is your bed?: King! Must have a King.

23. Greatest strength as a couple?: We know how good we have it. So know not to screw it up.

24. Greatest challenge as a couple?: Like Julie, I am going to have to go with gaming. The amount of computer gaming that goes on in this house can be staggering. I get jealous, because he is playing online with other people from all over the world. I sometimes whine, 'You have just spent 8 straight hours with a group of strangers and I have been by myself all day.' Whiiiiinne. But since Jackson came, Daddy is forced to stop gaming so often cause Jackson requires his attention. So I guess that it it. He games too much, I nag him too much.


25. Who literally pays the bills?: Me. Online banking is the greatest tool. Due to really bad experiences during my first marriage, I have to know how much money is there, what it is being spent on and that bills are actually being paid. I have to do it myself. And that suits David just fine.

26. What is your song? Don't really have one. We feel special about Guy Forsyth, though.

27. What did you dance your first dance to?: "Children of Jack"

28. Describe your wedding dress: Two-piece - floor length skirt with tiny bell train and a strapless, beaded corset bodice. On clearance, discontinued and on sale from there. $245. Yup, something I am so proud of. My gorgeous gown, $245. Don't ask how much alterations were though. They kind of fleece you there.

29. What kind of flowers did you have at your wedding?:Another proud aspect. I went to Sam's with Lynn, theatre friend and florist. We bought $75 worth of bundled flowers in fall colors. Baby roses, and such. And that morning, Lynn and Tara created the bouquets and boutonnieres we needed and they were gorgeous! $75, eat that wedding florists!

30. Are your wedding bands engraved? What do they say?: David's is. It says my name and our wedding date.

So married friends, tell us about your wedding. And friends of the same-sex persuasion, tell us about what your wedding would be like if the man ever decided to acknowledge your absolute right to engage in such legal, binding, and pro-family contracts.

My baby broke my slinky.

I have always loved Slinky's. They are kind of like stress balls or the like. I sit watching a TV show and just roll it back and forth making a soothing 'whoosh, whoosh' sound and it relaxes me. Knowing this, my dad usually gets me a new slinky every few years. I like the plain old grey metal slinky the best - cause it makes the best 'whoosh' sound. But I have also had the dual color plastic ones, the little tiny pocket kind, and I also have one covered in fabric with a snake head - it's a snakey, I guess.

Well, as inevitably happens with first-time parents, all of our toys have become Jackson's toys. My husband has way more toys than I do. I do mean toys literally. Rubber chickens, little figures from kinder eggs, matchbox cars, etc. So my slinky now resides in Jackson's toy box. A bent and mangled little mess that no longer makes the relaxing 'whoosh whoosh' sound. And as we have a kid now, I cannot count on my dad to buy me any more toys. So I am guessing my slinky days are over.

The sacrifices once makes for parenthood. Sigh.