Thanks to all who commented yesterday on my bizarre, 3-hour night of sleep. Both dogs are up right now, but that’s after I slept like a rock and my alarm woke me up. I’ve already milled this morning…now time to get going or I’ll be late, and we CAN’T HAVE THAT.
Hugs to you all!
I’ve just been up with dogs since 1:53 a.m., because their insides were about to fall out and they needed to get outside, quick. (What on earth did the Thriller feed them before bed last night?) Of course, they came in and went right back to snoozing, and here I sit…
Are you able to go back to sleep once you’ve been awakened? I wish I were, but no dice. Once I’m up, the brain starts to wander hither and yon, and the day has begun. I actually went back upstairs at 3 and turned on the Nook to hopefully read myself to sleep for two hours, but by 4:00, I just bagged the whole thing and went down to the treadmill. Now it’s 5:35, and after some vanilla Greek yogurt with raspberries and a mug of café mocha, I’m ready to hit the shower, the road and the you-know-what.
But here’s something nice: we’re halfway to the weekend. 
Looking forward to Friday and Sunday (my only days “off”), then the push to opening night.
Is it time to go home now?
…at 5:15 a.m.?
Actually, I’m finding it quite relaxing. Now don’t get me wrong, here. If anyone on this earth hates exercising, ’tis I. And I’ll go you one further and say that my morning exercise for the past several days has been of the “brisk walk on the tread for 15 minutes” variety, but I’m moving, and that’s all I’ll commit to at the moment.
Stoney and I eat horribly during a rehearsal run. We’re both “nervous munchers,” and that’s bitten us many times in the health department. We regularly have dinner together before rehearsal, and oftentimes, it’s just easier to order out for pizza or subs than to go to the hassle of making both lunch *and* dinner to bring to school (we both live a half hour away, so planning is key).
But we’re trying something different for this last two weeks of the run. Eating better, moving more. On my end, that’s about all I can commit to. Time was, I’d reserve a full hour every morning for blogging, coffee, reading news, paying bills, whatever. It was my quiet time, and I’m still selfish of it. I’ve just carved off 15 of those 60 minutes to walking while reading. I’m finding I’m plowing through my Nook books faster. Heh.
So what do you do for exercise? I wish I loved it. I’ve been down this road before, and read all the books. Soon, you’ll love exercising; it’ll become a part of your daily routine. HA. Not for this chick. But I know I want to be around to see my grandchildren grow up, and it won’t be easy keeping up with them if I can’t, well…keep up with them. So it’s me and the mill. I can do at least that much.
Here’s hoping for a great Tunesday for you, fiends. I’m hoping for a better rehearsal tonight than last night…
Onward!
Lorne Michaels
Or, he did. Well actually…I didn’t know he agreed with me, as he agreed with me when I was 14 years old. But he agreed, and for the same reasons. In fact, he stole my opinion. OK, we share it.
Is this not making any sense? Right. Let me start over.
I have a confession. I hereby admit to all and sundry that I have never found Carol Burnett funny. Ever. Like, not once. Tim Conway, maybe, on occasion. But I quietly sneered and rolled my eyes at most of the comedy on Burnett’s show. Sue me. Lord knows millions of other people loved the stuff, but it just never “did it” for me. Her googly-eyed, mawkish cheesing at the camera, and especially Harvey Korman’s infuriating breaking of character to fall down laughing at how gol-dern funny they all were just grated on me. Stoney and I always tell our student actors: “You’re funny onstage until you start cracking up onstage at how funny you are. Then you’re not funny anymore.” I stand by it.
Burnett as “Eunice”
Anyhow, I’ve always felt like the Lone Ranger on that score. Almost everyone I knew was all HahahHAHAHAHAAA!!! about Carol Burnett, but I kept quiet vigil during her shows, and while the studio audience died laughing, I mostly sat with this look on my face.
So, my point (and I do have one) is that last night, I bought a book called Saturday Night: A Backstage History of Saturday Night Live, by Doug Hill and Jeff Weingrad. Very impressive. About 65 pages in, I came across this paragraph:
[SNL creator] Lorne [Michaels] made it clear that [Carol] Burnett’s style encompassed everything “Saturday Night” should avoid. It lacked subtlety and nuance; it was…too smug, especially when the performers broke out laughing in mid-sketch, doubling over at the hilarity of themselves. From then on, many an idea would be derisively dismissed on the 17th floor with the words, “That’s Carol Burnett.”
Finally, a kindred spirit.
Now, wait. I know that Carol Burnett is a television icon; someone who, like Lucille Ball, played first string in what was always a boys’ game. She did her own thing on her own show, calling all the shots and doing things her way, which I think is fantastic. She paved the way for lots of other strong women in show business. I just don’t think she’s funny. Does that make me a bad person? Un-Amurrican?
I think Lorne would forgive me.
Two is a nice, round number. I like two. I like having two of things, like two favorite coffee mugs. I like eating two helpings of dinner sometimes, or two cookies or two pieces of cake.
Right now, we have two dogs in the house (we’re puppysitting for friends for a few weeks while they’re in Europe). I have two different browsers open at the moment, and I’m on my second mug of café mocha. It took me 2×3 hours yesterday to complete our 2-page program for the show.
Two is the number of weeks left until Joseph opens, and two (and eventually, 2.5) is the duration of each rehearsal that remains, with the exception of the tech rehearsal this Saturday, which runs 2×2 hours.
Two is also the total number of free days I have over the span of the next fourteen. That means a lot of trying to push three grandsons — and their parents’ busy schedules — into two visits.
Can this be done? I think so. I just need a few hours to work out the details.
Like, two.
