on the eve of "it begins again"

another bump in. starts tomorrow. and with the glands up and the body sore and the head spinning and so much left to do, i'm not exactly jumping for joy.


but the house is clean and the belly is full and warm, and i am relishing this moment. the calm before the two week storm.


and i am feeling a somewhat unusual sense of calm surrounding the upcoming fortnight. maybe i am learning, learning to have perspective and remember the bigger picture and enjoy the ride. or maybe i am just deluded.


either way, dear little blog, you are serving me well. in more than one way. you are bringing me joy and clarity and company and new friends and work.


and, in case you or i forget, here's a picture of me, how i'll look all week long. composed, happy, in control, strong, and with the ideal amount of sass.



and that's how i'll stay... mmkay??


-- R.

finding me(mo).

get it? finding me(mo). nemo? moving on...

i'm writing this entry to my future self. some things you should know, future self.

one. 
there will always be that rehearsal. first run through. everything falls apart. you want to vomit and cry. when said rehearsal occurs, just know, it has happened before. it is not the first and it will not be the last. and the show will go on. and they will know their cues and they will commit to the moment. and at some point, in say, two weeks, you will look back on that rehearsal and say, wow, i should've known. well now you do.

and, in all seriousness, even if the whole show falls apart a week before opening, try to hold on to that perspective you hold dearest which reminds you that, after all, (and tho it pains me to type it), it is just a musical. that previous sentence goes against everything i believe in, but there, now it's out there, the universe has it, so let's just allow it to bounce around a bit.

two.
do not eat five pieces of pizza if you are not willing to bear the consequences.

three.
when you have not seen your husband for two days apart from the two and a half minutes when he wakes you to say goodnight as he climbs into bed, do not choose day three as an excellent day for a fight.

four.
take more pictures. this one i've been working on for the last few days:


secret community garden hidden in a dirty urban laneway moments from my doorstep where dogs play in hoses and city-farmer-women wear giant brimmed hats.









a quick shoot with netty, a most photogenic muse.


five.
when you get that feeling of longing to be somewhere else, when you are overwhelmed and stressed and feel like nothing you do will ever help you climb out of the hole that you have seemingly dug for yourself, remember this:



and this...



because, at some point, when all is quiet in the universe, we will return to holes in socks on couches where two four-eyed blondies sit, ignoring the tv and each other, as one plots his expletive expletive AFL dreamteam, and the other blogs about it. 


and there you will find yourself.


-- R.

o that kitten--

-- R.

You.

you are sitting at the tip of that coffee table we love to fool people with. you are frantically scribbling (but of course there is method to it), pencil only, as you confer between piano/conductor and guitar scores. occasionally, you ask me a question, what is the cue, is this band or sound effect. your silence is punctuated by the odd arm flail, as you conduct the imaginary band. sometimes the one hand, sometimes both, sometimes the entire upper body makes an appearance. it all makes me swoon. you show me things that make you laugh, and they make me laugh too. you gently whisper bar counts into the air, accompanied by a lyric or two, a nod of the head, and a mad dash for the pencil. you are so aware, so tuned in, so intelligent. but you are right, you cannot draw. not even a little bit. nevertheless, i know you will give me everything i want. one day.


chu-gaga-chu-gaga-CLICK and it's over.

a long time, a long week.

it's been a good few days since i last wrote. it's been one of those weeks. when i really don't get the chance to sit down and think to myself, "hey, i'd love to write about my every thought right about now..."


and that's a good thing. because the last week has been so full to the brim that it almost burst. so there was no time to overthink, or allow boredom to set in, or to dwell on unimportant matters. in the last week i have proven to myself that i can get a bucketload done when i want to and when i need to and has allowed me also to realise how much i love having the time, in my usual routine, to breathe and think hard and dwell. and how nice it is to be reminded of how lucky you are to take time every now and then.


it was this one's birthday.

present opening: vintage LP poster, creases, stains and all, framed in pristine white. the beatles as they should be.


and 26 is not a big deal. but we like to celebrate things that aren't a big deal. and he hadn't had a party for a long while... so we celebrated, we partied. in his case a little too hard.





it was such fun preparing in the days leading up. we went to costco.



and pulled out every platter and bowl and serving dish we own in a monumental, colour-coordinating effort



and i had incredible help and support from the mother and the sister



the cute version



the actual reality, not-so-cute version


and mostly the spread was an incredible success. 





except i was so paranoid about my brownies being mushy in the middle that i overcooked them by about fourteen hours. and they were so hard that i could only cut fifteen pieces (there should have been about thirty). and even then, my sweet little toothpick happy birthday candles had great difficulty piercing through the tough-as-nails brownie stack. to the point that the tail of the "r" of "birthday" fell off as i shoved for dear life and turned it into a "p". and at that point i took it as a sign. and that sign said do not serve the brownies. and so they stayed in the kitchen, my "happy bip" brownies.





and sunday we both had the most ridiculous days that involved absolutely no recovery time. so monday rolled around, the day of my love's birth, and we were both like zombies. but it was a beautiful, calm, sleepy, easy day, which included unexpected gift-giving, two-hat lunch, and his number one cheesecake with loved ones.





and i'm glad the weekend was as great as it was. and i am exhausted and drained. because, oh yes, last week i also worked, ran a six hour rehearsal lone-ranger, upholstered a bed (yes you read correctly), and waited patiently for justine to return from her south african reunion. and now she is back and all is right in the world again, at least temporarily.


and the next four weeks are going to be just as crazy, with the school show looming and the octave show cranking into gear for auditions, and shows to be seen and props to be made and dinners to be cooked and... 


i'm excited.


-- R.