It is official; I am in love again.
With Fredericton, NB.
All my life I have wanted to live in BC; I love the warm air, the smell of the forest, the winding roads, the coastal highway, and the myths of the Ogo-Pogo. This May long-weekend has shown me that NB is just like BC. The air is sweet, there are boats in the water, everything is lush green and healthy. The beaches are ten minutes away. The river runs through the city and shines as bright as the deepest blue you've ever seen. People smell like suntan lotion. Everyone is in sandals and dresses. The guys are ripped. Like--ripped. I can't take it anymore!
Today, for the first time, I realized that I am only returning to Calgary to fulfill a deep longing for my closest friends and family. I've always really liked Calgary, but since living out East, I have realized that Calgary is a big city, with many options, but so few options that I truly like. I don't want Big City. I don't want Stampede or Tubby Dog. I don't want traffic, or Aritzia. I'm not ready to come home.
My Insatiable Desire: Victoria, BC.
Can I do it? Yes.
Should I do it? Perhaps.
Will I do it? Most likely.
When? Soon.
For how long? For infinity!
Who is with me?
PS. My freckles are in full bloom, each one giving way to baby freckle farms. And for each freckle is an ounce of happiness, which leaves me quite joyful.
xox
Sunday, May 23, 2010
Monday, May 10, 2010
Dr. Seuss, you wrote this one.
"Oh the thinks you can think, when you think about Seuss!!"
The time has arrived for my first musical theatre production to actualize for an audience. I wish I could take all the excitement and pride out of my chest and put it on this screen for you to read--then you might know how it feels to be this happy.
We spent 7 hours today in dress rehearsal, and I know I will never forget even a moment of it. How we got from day one to today is unfathomable. These kids were always the cream of the crop to me, but man, some nights after rehearsal I could have hung them by their feet and stolen every penny that fell from their pockets without a second thought. They really did drive me insane at times! But, in a good way, because as they tested boundaries and dealt with our sometimes short tempers, they were always stoked to be a part of this show; with us.
Have you ever thought about what it would be like to be a parent? I do. Even when they are constantly nagging, and talking, and poking, and petting, and bickering, and jigging around unnecessarily, I think to myself, this must be like having 34 children. I could do that. Right? How else can I explain it.... It's like, when you are really busy or having a conversation or thinking about 8 billion things that need to be done, and a kid comes up to you and tugs on your sleeve NONSTOP, "Miss Crimmins. Miss Crimmins. Miss Crimmins. Miss Crimmins. Miss Crimmins" "WHAT??!!" And I look down and their faces are full of urgency and their eyes are wide and they have this INCREDIBLE NEED to be heard RIGHT NOW, and I stop and it always makes me laugh a little. "Yes, what do you need?" "I wanted to show you this thing." And the kid does a friggin' kart-wheel. "I was wondering if I could do that in the opening song. I think I can land it every time. I've been practicing."
"Sweet mercy, child. Yes of course." But they won't just do it without showing me first. It MUST be seen by my private audience. And it always reminds me what it was like to be in grade six. And I feel like thanking that kid.
I looked out at them from the side wing backstage and grinned with complete abandon. They are missing steps, and losing head pieces, and crashing into bushes, and flailing their bodies and singing their little guts out...and coughing. Onstage. They are so full of life. And they let me into their club, their sweet little worlds, and I have never been so happy to belong to a community.
One of our set pieces, a jail cell door, twice the height of a child, fell on a kid as he was trying to take it offstage by himself. At the same time, the HUGE nest that Horton the Elephant sits on, was being pushed onstage. But As the jail door was tumbling down on top of Brandon, the nest was being wheeled into the backdrop and knocked over trees in the chaos. I should have helped. Thats what I'm there for. But my primal instincts kicked in and I had to cross my legs from peeing my pants. I was laughing so hard tears were coming out of my eyes. I couldn't do anything! Well, the kids backstage immediately jumped in and saved the day. They lifted the door off of Brandon, who was laughing and unhurt, and picked up the trees and righted the nest. The show went on without skipping a beat. And I had peed a little.
They say a rough dress rehearsal means a great opening show. I trust that superstition, as i do all theatre superstitions. And even if it turns out false, I don't give a rip. These moments are endearing, because the kids are endearing. This is a place where mistakes are the glory. I couldn't have chosen a better path for myself.
Break a leg, Seussians. I'm sure someone will.
xox
The time has arrived for my first musical theatre production to actualize for an audience. I wish I could take all the excitement and pride out of my chest and put it on this screen for you to read--then you might know how it feels to be this happy.
We spent 7 hours today in dress rehearsal, and I know I will never forget even a moment of it. How we got from day one to today is unfathomable. These kids were always the cream of the crop to me, but man, some nights after rehearsal I could have hung them by their feet and stolen every penny that fell from their pockets without a second thought. They really did drive me insane at times! But, in a good way, because as they tested boundaries and dealt with our sometimes short tempers, they were always stoked to be a part of this show; with us.
Have you ever thought about what it would be like to be a parent? I do. Even when they are constantly nagging, and talking, and poking, and petting, and bickering, and jigging around unnecessarily, I think to myself, this must be like having 34 children. I could do that. Right? How else can I explain it.... It's like, when you are really busy or having a conversation or thinking about 8 billion things that need to be done, and a kid comes up to you and tugs on your sleeve NONSTOP, "Miss Crimmins. Miss Crimmins. Miss Crimmins. Miss Crimmins. Miss Crimmins" "WHAT??!!" And I look down and their faces are full of urgency and their eyes are wide and they have this INCREDIBLE NEED to be heard RIGHT NOW, and I stop and it always makes me laugh a little. "Yes, what do you need?" "I wanted to show you this thing." And the kid does a friggin' kart-wheel. "I was wondering if I could do that in the opening song. I think I can land it every time. I've been practicing."
"Sweet mercy, child. Yes of course." But they won't just do it without showing me first. It MUST be seen by my private audience. And it always reminds me what it was like to be in grade six. And I feel like thanking that kid.
I looked out at them from the side wing backstage and grinned with complete abandon. They are missing steps, and losing head pieces, and crashing into bushes, and flailing their bodies and singing their little guts out...and coughing. Onstage. They are so full of life. And they let me into their club, their sweet little worlds, and I have never been so happy to belong to a community.
One of our set pieces, a jail cell door, twice the height of a child, fell on a kid as he was trying to take it offstage by himself. At the same time, the HUGE nest that Horton the Elephant sits on, was being pushed onstage. But As the jail door was tumbling down on top of Brandon, the nest was being wheeled into the backdrop and knocked over trees in the chaos. I should have helped. Thats what I'm there for. But my primal instincts kicked in and I had to cross my legs from peeing my pants. I was laughing so hard tears were coming out of my eyes. I couldn't do anything! Well, the kids backstage immediately jumped in and saved the day. They lifted the door off of Brandon, who was laughing and unhurt, and picked up the trees and righted the nest. The show went on without skipping a beat. And I had peed a little.
They say a rough dress rehearsal means a great opening show. I trust that superstition, as i do all theatre superstitions. And even if it turns out false, I don't give a rip. These moments are endearing, because the kids are endearing. This is a place where mistakes are the glory. I couldn't have chosen a better path for myself.
Break a leg, Seussians. I'm sure someone will.
xox
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
