TheaterGeek employed again

For anyone who doesn't already know:
I will be playing Hermia in a summer production of Shakespeares A Midsummer Night's Dream.

Now, I imagine there are those out in blogland who are rolling their eyes at my decision. Tsk Tsking under their breath at my attempt at theater while a two year old and a six year old remain at home with my husband completely lacking my mother-presence.

I have not blogged much recently. I could say "Wow, I've been so busy." Or "This month just got away from me!" or something chipper that says "Don't worry what I've been up to the past couple of months. Everything is fine now and was fine that whole time . . ."

I'm not that kind of person. If that were true, then sure. But it's not. Instead these past few months have been . . . um . . . emotionally void while also being emotionally hell. I know, how can you have no feeling and too much feeling? Weirder things have happened.

So. My mother asked me to be in it almost four months ago. I said no. She brought it up three months ago and I said no. Then again two months ago and I snapped at her, asking why my "no's" weren't good enough for her. So she stopped asking. And between the time she asked and auditions rolled around, I felt and not felt enough that I knew I needed the Bard's Salve.

It is my sincere belief that if a Theatre-geek of any level needs a measure of healing, the answer is found in a Shakespeare. In no other play - even plays WRITTEN for the purpose - is a more open canvas for individual creativity. So many right answers. So many avenues to travel. And you can travel them all in the safety of creating. Then at the end you can stand back and heave a sigh of relief! Because all that stuff that was inside, all that stuff that had no where to go was just drawn out of you like poison. You are free inside. Your blood will run clean and oxidized again!

I gave up on theater because I had forgotten what it was good for. Muad'Dib is behind me 100%. And not in the "I just want you to remember how much you hate this" way, but in the " I know you need this" way.

I'm grateful for the experiences that led me to realize that I was not defined by my activity in theater. I still feel that is true. I am no longer TheaterGeek.

But I can call upon TheaterGeek to heal Sayyadina. Because she desperately needs some healing. I'm not asking an EVENT to heal me. I will. I will fix it. And this will be the medicine I need to clean out and repair whatever I have done to hurt myself over the past what-ever-measure-of-time. See? I don't even know when the bogging began!

I believe that my mother was inspired to produce a Shakespeare right now, at this time. This belief is the first flash in a long night of darkness that reminds me that God is aware of me and my struggles.

I'm not asking anyone to watch our children while I go off and do this. I'm not asking my kids to come to 10pm rehearsals. I'm not even asking anyone to go out of their way to watch the play come July. All I'm saying here is that I'm doing this. And for those of you who are wondering why, here it is. Here is why.

Dreampacker has pointed out that I am sensitive to feeling. I remember back in High School when I figured out that I could walk into a room and literally FEEL the emotions coming off of other people. And although I figured that out, I didn't know I could stop it. I couldn't separate their emotions from mine. I was all "If I feel it, it must be mine." I spent a lot of time crying in bathroom stalls not knowing why.

A little while ago, I was able with full presence of mind to separate and keep myself safe from the emotions of others. And now . . . that control has gone.
I am awash in emotions. And have the added *pthbbt* of sensitivity beyond the veil to contend with!

I know that life coaching teaches me to tap it out. I know that the Gospel teaches me to pray it out. I know that fear teaches me to sleep it out. I know that reason teaches me to ride it out. But my SOUL, the inner conjunction between emotion, spirit, reason and peace drives me to spill it out. It must be got out. And can you name me a safe venue?

Well I can. Shakespeare. Theater. I will exhaust myself with emotional sharing in a setting where it is not only accepted but downright encouraged! Then I will be left with what is mine, unhampered by what is not.

A common theme

There has been a common underlying theme all through T.V. this past season. Almost any show you watch, you hear a main character say:

*We don't have a choice.
*We have to.
*There is no other choice.
*You don't really have a choice here.
*There isn't a choice.
*We don't have a lot of options here.

Basically, all of it is saying the same thing. And they are all wrong.

There wasn't a single instance when someone said this and they were completely correct. The idea that there wasn't a choice had more to do with manipulating a certain person into a specific course of action than it was doing right or wrong.

It's just been bugging me.

A Certain Strain of Funny

I have tried to keep my children clean of "potty humor." But I am up against the Stevens's on one side and a few "Ghost Poopie" afficianado's on the other, as well as the public school system and all the "jokes" my son brings home.

So when Lemur tells a joke, it goes a little something like this:
"How did the cow learn to fly?"
"How?"
"Because a squirrel pooped on a diaper on his head and fell!"

Or

"Knock Knock."
"Who's there?"
"Diaper."
"Diaper who?"
"Diaper full of poop that came from a donkey and fell on your underwear face!"

I have tried to discourage this strain of humor. I have even tried to teach him the proper forms of higher joke telling, putting emphasis on wit and pun rather than a disgusting and improbable punch line. My example was,
"Knock Knock."
"Who's there?"
"Banana"
"Banana who?"
Knock Knock."
"Who's there?"
"Banana"
"Banana who?"
Knock Knock."
"Who's there?"
"Banana"
"Banana who?"
Knock Knock."
"Who's there?"
"Orange."
"Orange who?"
"Orange you glad I didn't say Banana?"

The humor was lost on my poor son. And apparently it was also lost on my daughter who joined the fun by saying: "Knock Knock."
Leemur answers, "Who's there?"
"Banana."
"Banana who?"
"Banana Poop!"

They'll grow out of this, right?

"The Seven Year Itch" or "I always knew eight-legged creatures were out to get me and mine!"

For anyone who has been following the blog, you know that Muad'Dib, Rivulet and I have been "itchy" for a couple months. The common diagnoses were as follows:

3 of 5 Doctors said it was Eczema
2 of 5 Doctors said it was dry skin.
100% of Doctors said it would go away if we used enough lotion.

100% of family members said it was a toxin or food allergy.

One Chiropractor/Allergist treated us for a yeast allergy. And a milk allergy. And a sugar allergy.

Finally one Dermatologist actually looked at us and discovered this: Scabies.

I know. Could they think of a worse name for something that was already uncomfortable and disgusting?! But wait, there's more: Scabies mites are not insects but arachnids, related to spiders and scorpions."

It was difficult not to scream in the Doc's office! And it turns out that although the family and their energy testing was right, it was a toxin, truth out of context did little good. It's a good example of how truth out of context does no one any good. We were looking for a food toxin, or a deeply internal toxin. Not a toxin excreted by a female mite laying her eggs in tunnels under our skin. *shivers with revulsion*

Our obvious next question was: "How did we get these little demons?!"
Most common cases are on dirty people, hobos, etc. The doc told us that anyone can catch scabies if they are in crowded dirty conditions for even for a short period of time. Say, four days to a week.

Muad'Dib and I thought about that and came up with two possible scenarios. Either we got them on the houseboat in Lake Powell (considering I was nearly the only one who slept night and day indoors on the mattresses), or in the hotel we stayed at in Star Valley during the reunion.

Either way, it happened and "Ewww."

Here are 10 things I learned while afflicted with Scabies:
1. Don't just take a drug because a doctor "thinks" it will treat the symptoms.
2. Bring a sleeping bag.
3. WorldMark is worth EVERY PENNY. Because I know those beds are clean and Scabies-free! ya know how I know? Because I don't just pay for the room, I pay for the room to be CLEANED!
4. I'm grateful for Capitalism, because it makes places like WorldMark possible and affordable to us.
5. Muad'Dib (and many others) are right, "Scratching makes it worse."
6. Do the research so you can ask the right questions.
7. I respect people with enough guts to say, "I don't know, but you know who might . . ."
8. Most Dermatologists recommend NOT using a loofa sponge in the shower or bath.
9. Irritability is a byproduct of not sleeping because you are up scratching all night long. Evidence: Rivulet over the past three months; and
10. Yay for Health Savings accounts. Beacuse the lotion to fix us wasn't covered by insurance and would have cost us over $200.00!

Luckily, no one can catch it from us, and we have been given the two step cure. And in four weeks we should not be itching or scratching anymore.

One of the first things I said to Muad'Dib upon discovery was, "I told you. Spiders are evil."
He replied, "These aren't spiders."

Say what you will, but if it has eight legs and attacks me, I'm going to call a demon a demon.