red hair and black leather

I have no voice. It was Kathleen Turner-esque yesterday, and today it is just shot. Which has pissed off my boss.

I'm not even sick! I just have no voice! And I was in bed by 11 last night!

[Madagascar]

Well, this sucks.

[/Madagascar]

Hi there. Spent all day yesterday miserable at work, crawled into bed when I got home at 5:30 and spent the night alternately shivering and sweating, not leaving my bed except for necessities like bathroom and food. Made into work today, promptly felt like I was going to pass out, tried to grit through it, gave up at 8:30 and tried to go to Urgent Care. The UC listed on my benefits handbook? Not open. The next closest one? Not open. Finally decided that going home and suffering sans diagnosis was better than passing out in front of the H&M on Post Street, so I caught a cab home, hitting my bed at 9:30 a.m.

I hurt. Everywhere. Well, actually, just my spine, but from the base of it up to the base of my skull, with attendant steel bands wrapping around to the front of my head. My lymph nodes are swollen, as are my tonsils (so eating anything is fun. Viva la smoothies!). In spite of that, I have no fever (not even when I'm sweating), and there's no white spots anywhere in my mouth. The UC Diagnosis line I finally got to was baffled. I managed to get to the health foods store just down the way and load up on natural remedies, and one of my friends is going to run to Walgreen's for me when she gets home.

Guess what I still need to do, though? That's right, clean my house in prep for madre's arrival tomorrow. Pfeh. I might just do a couple loads of laundry, tidy up, vacuum, and call it quits.

( A quiz I meant to post a few days ago.... )

I think I might need to stop drinking coffee. This induces panic in me, making me wonder how I'm going to stay awake through my workday. However, the physiological effects are starting to take their toll - I can feel my muscles bunching and trying to pull away from the bone as I finish my second cup. That area in my chest that tightens whenever I haven't eaten enough/am too stressed/whatever - the place that makes it feel like I have rebar sticking through my torso and/or am having a heart attack - that's playing up, too.

It's not like the servings are huge, either. I take in probably 12 oz. of coffee total, and always before 10 a.m., else I can't sleep at night. This is ridiculous.

But the muscle bunching? So not fun. I'll try cutting down first, see if that works.


Eh. It's a small thing in the grand scheme of things.

I thought I was all the way back from my head injury. Changed a little, of course, but fully functional again. The headaches had almost completely subsided, I was much more on my game, everything seemed to be clicking along...

Yeah. The headaches are back. I'm losing words again. Fnargh. Doc says this is normal and expected, and she understands that I'm worried, but since the CT scan and the bloodwork showed nothing unusual and I've been under a lot of stress recently, she's not concerned about this backslide. Since I trust her implicitly, I'm not concerned either. I reserve the right to be frustrated, however, and plan on exercising that right a lot once I have time.


Tech is going fantastically, actually. Even though the TD has gone AWOL after he built a platform wrong, I'm really happy with where things are. I hope this keeps up.


Shallow fashion details: I have the opening of Richard III on Friday and Z's birthday party on Saturday, both of which are prime dressing events for yours truly. I had originally planned on wearing this dress to the opening (after I got it back from the tailor's, as I am no longer that freaky-skinny and I had to have the bodice let out in order to avoid bisecting my boobs), but it doesn't quite fit with the the show or seem very Shakespearian. So I think I'll wear that one on Saturday, and a slinky maroon velvet column dress with a black velvet cape on Friday. The velvet seems much more apropos for a show about everyone being murdered. There will, of course, be pictures of outfits.


In the realm of hard learning experiences, I offer two personal examples:

1. This job has given me a lot of practice at being around conflict and dealing with it. My boss is not the most patient of women, and I often overhear loud and heated conversations in which errors discussed at length and declared unacceptable. Other times, I'm the one she vents to. So, I'm better at managing my reaction to conflict and anger. This is good, even if the circumstances are not.

2. I think I've become better at setting my boundaries and staying there. My instinct is to bend over backwards and give in and not say anything that would upset someone (until, of course, the inevitable blow-up). Now, I think, I'm better at speaking up earlier and in a non-confrontational manner, and also at saying "these are my boundaries, this is what I need".

I still need to be better at cultivating friendships. I often feel that that will take away time from something else - running, rehearsal, or sleep. I need to make time.


I gave in and purchased eye cream that promises to reduce puffiness and the dark circles underneath my eyes. Normally, I'm a fan of treating the cause and not the symptom - when I started gaining weight back and feeling bloaty, I drastically cut my alcohol consumption. When I started feeling awful every day at work, I stopped staying out and drinking until 1 a.m. every night. Due to all of this, my life is now as ascetic as I can stand, and there's no way I can get as much sleep as my body demands or reduce the amount of stress I live under without giving up theater. So, I embrace the eye cream and hug it to my puffy eyelids. Mmmm, eye cream.


One of the reasons I (usually) love tech week - I lose weight. I do eat, but I'm so energized and up and focused that I tend to drop a pound or two. Now, if I could just get it to stay away, I'd be golden.


Party on Saturday! Yay!!

I have two essays/posts in my head: How Musical Theater Ruined My Life, and A Gender-Swap Rumination. Hopefully I'll be able to get to both of them today, although it's not looking very hopeful.

We got a pretty good review for Measure For Measure. Yay! It is a problematic play, so I'm happy to see the basic themes are coming through loud and clear.

I watched Décalage horaire (Jet Lag) last night - a frothy little romantic comedy starring Jean Reno and Juliette Binoche. Not high art, but fun and French and pretty. I adore watching Mr. Reno work, and Ms. Binoche as luminous as ever.

Tuesday night, I saw Velvet Goldmine. V. pretty film. Since I'm not a big pop-culture history buff, a lot of the layers passed right by me. Yes, I know about the sexuality of a lot of the major players in the early 70s glam-rock scene, and I know about the shake-ups and renunciations and general shittiness that followed, but clearly not enough to get much more than "Soooooooo pretty" out of the movie. Also, I continue to think Christian Bale is one of the creepier guys out there, which should help with Batman Begins. There were, however, two moments in which I identified with his character so much that it hurt: in the beginning, when he's at the concert and so excited to see his idol, but he can't keep himself from observing others and Watching; and later on, when he sneaks out of his house in his new glam clothes and goes to the area where all the cool kids hang out all full of hope and newness, and he gets the once-over and a sneer from an Über-Cool girl. He doesn't belong, no matter how he tries, and no amount of clothes or music will allow him in, because his isolation, while partially externally imposed, is driven in a large way by his own sense of self or lack thereof. (Wow. Comma abuse for miles there. Sorry.) It also got me thinking about how I've tended to prefer the essential ideas of punk and grunge over goth and glam. Which is not to say I don't like goth and glam, but there are times when the artifice gets to be too much (yes, I know there are/were poseurs aplenty in punk and grunge and hard truths in goth and glam. I speak in generalities here).

Anyway. I think I shall have to buy a copy of Velvet Goldmine for myself, as it's one of those movies wherein I will want to watch just a specific scene on occasion. Yes.


Also had a root canal yesterday. Le fucking whee. I discovered that 5 shots of Novocain will fuck me up right proper. I couldn't drive home promptly after the appointment and was forced to wander around a nearby Snyder's until I could get it together. They had no Easter candy and no St. Ives lotion. It was horrible, I tell you. Horrible! The endodontist was very nice. He is also my age, is quite funny and often plays drums with Pete Yorn in addition to being an endodontist. Way to make me feel unaccomplished, dude. The jaw joint (what's the name of it?) is massively sore today. 5 shots will do that to you.


That's about the end of it. Z & I will be seeing The Aviator tonight, so I'll have a Serious Movie to discuss soon. Now, I must go fetch a smoothie so I won't starve to death. Ciao.

It seems many people have been watching the Demon Barber lately, including myself. A friend and I went to see the Bloomington Civic Theatre's production of it, because Carl was starring as Sweeny. It was actually a decent production, with a fairly strong chorus (always a crapshoot in a community theater show). Carl was good, if 20 years too young. I tell you, once he hits 40, he could move to New York or LA and get many many gigs as That Actor. You know, that one that you see all the time? Yeah, him.


In other news, I return to work half-days on Monday, we audition Richard III tomorrow through Tuesday, and we opened Inherit The Wind on Friday. And now, time for an ad:

Minneapolis-area folks! Please come see Inherit The Wind!! We run through the 18th, with a pay-what-you-will performance on Monday the 13th. (If you're broke and can't afford the $15, drop me a line and we'll see if we can work something out.) Check out the new and improved website at fiftyfootpenguin.org. You can even buy tickets online. Thanks!!


Regarding my accident and recuperation, I am healing decently. The swelling is almost all gone, the bruises are mostly faded, and one stitch remains in my mouth. I am still showing signs of post-concussive disorder, which is annoying in the very least (and frightening on the bad days). There is a possibility of nerve damage, but that won't be able to be diagnosed until at least three months after the accident. I haven't been able to wean myself off of the Percocet yet, and am having a bit of a relapse this evening. I just pushed myself a little hard this past week, trying to open Inherit up, and overdid it. Nothing a pill and some rest can't fix. Again, thank you all so much for your love and support. And a huge extra smooch to stephl for the dancing banana card. Hee!

Now to sleep, perchance to dream. Actually, on the Percocet? Dreaming is pretty much guaranteed. Odd drug. G'night.

Hi. Popping on for a bit, but not long. I can focus on the keyboard, but not on the screen, so I apologize for typos and the lack of commenting and generally not being about. I'm also feeling amazingly futless and Percoset-ed up, so read at your own risk.

Where to start? I'm insanely lucky and insanely bored, all at the same time. I just spent three minutes talking to one of my bhodditsavas because I felt the need to acknowledge something greater than stupid dumb luck. A friend did some Reiki on me last night, and that was fantastic. The general outpouring of love and support and caring has been amazing.

I'm feeling pretty good lately. My right face hurts, but it's okay. I even went to Target today with Zach. he drove.

Surgery is on Tuesday. We're still hosting T'Day on Thursday. I may be more nervous about the party.

I can't taste very well right now. Everything is still swollen, and it's hard to chew, and there may or may not be nerve damage. We can't tell, and won't be able to for the next few weeks. Reed's Ginger Candy, therefore, is the bomb.

Also, Satsuma Mandarins have come in to the stores. If anyone wants to know what the holidays smell like to me, crack open a mandarin orange. We would get them in crates direct from Japan when I was a kid. Burning spruce is also a good smell, but you can't beat the mandarins.

I'm enjoying the solid food as much as possible, and do not plan to stay on the post-op liquid diet for a second longer than is necessary. (Solid is in this case relative, and mostly means applesauce, yogurt, portabella mushrooms, and Kashi GoLean shakes. Hey, it's better than jello.)

Anyway.

Again, thank you all for your support. Z will be updating you as things progress.

Love to everyone.

Something I forgot to put in my previous post: I had to cut my run short this morning because my right knee - the one that has been giving me trouble for years - hurt too much to ignore. I know (hope!) it's a combination of the mileage increase, not taking ibuprofen in AK, and futzing with my shoes, but knee pain is worrisome, not matter what.

So. I take tonight and tomorrow easy, bump up the Advil, and hopefully I'll be ready for a six-mile run Saturday. Yes.

I am scheduled to run a 10-K on Saturday morning.

I have a doctor's appointment for my back on Friday.

If she tells me I can't run, I will be mightily upset. I'm really looking forward to it.

For all my misanthropy and dislike of crowds, I love running in races. I love the feeling of mass effort, the simultaneous competition against my own self and the others around me. At the speed I run, it's not a life-or-death battle. It's a bunch of people who happen to like pitting themselves against their own bodies and the clock. There is, as I said, competition in between the runners, but it's more of a spur than a "I must beat this other person or I will never be able to look myself in the eye again." Well, at least for me. I wouldn't be able to enjoy running if I were more invested in beating other people. What makes me run is the knowledge that I can improve every day, every race. I can beat myself, I can top my own records, I can look at a tough goal and say, "I can do that." It may take me a while, but I can do it, and I know how.

I love running and hate it at the same time. I love it because I can do it anytime, anywhere, as long as my body is up for it. I hate it because it is really fucking hard sometimes. It's punishing and brutal, and yet I must. I have no choice. I take a week off here and there, but I keep returning to it. Much like theater, but that's a different essay.

So, I run. And I will run Saturday. Unless I am told not to. Then we'll talk.

Not nearly as much as some on my f-list, but still. It's pretty ingrained in me that you work through whatever illness you have by your own damn self, and that's that. Also, having to go to someone and admit that I'm not doing just fine? Very hard.

However, these allergies are getting worse and worse, and I continue to be exhausted and wanting to sleep for over 10 hours per day. The tired could very well be depression-related, but it might not be. I don't feel depressed right now, and I'm certainly familiar enough with the feeling. So, I have an call in to schedule an appointment with my doctor, and she will do bloodwork and possibly refer me to a nutritionist. I've also requested a referral to an allergy specialist.

I'm very glad that I work for a company that has a health plan that allows me to do these things for a minimal cost. I'm very glad that I have a job, period. These things are good and scarce these days.


However, none of that is making me any happier about actually doing all of this medical shite. But hey, I want to be healthy, right? I don't want to be Little Miss Sniffly anymore, that's for damnsure. And I don't want to continue to annoy my friends with my whining and wheezing. So off I go. At some point. When the office gets back to me.