detoxed, unherxed, and on the go

Cemetery in Royal Oak.

Well, Murder in Green Meadows is done, and you would think I'd have a little more free time. So far it doesn't seem like it. The afterglow wrapped up on Saturday night - a fun party that went to 4:30 a.m. And then Monday found me diving right back into the next show, Run For Your Wife. I am actually acting in that show, my first time onstage in a speaking role. I have six lines, two of which are "Hey!" and "Lovely!" So you might say that I have 1/3 of my lines already memorized. Yes, I'm a quick study.

Here's a synopsis of the play:

Enter John Smith, a London taxi driver. Husband by day, husband by night. Does it matter that his wife he sees during the day just happens to be different from the wife he spends his nights with? Of course not, as long as they don't know about each. But when circumstances (and two nosey policemen) start to unravel the double-life John has been living by, he has to enlist the help of his friend, Stanley, in order to prevent his two wives from ever meeting. What follows is a pure farce. This hilarious romp shows how complicated things can get as the two men keep spinning more ridiculous lies. Identities are mistaken, characters have to pretend to be what they are not, and great fun is had.

I play the reporter; I come onstage, say my lines, snap a photo, and leave. I'll have my camera and external flash with me, and I'm making myself a cool press pass to wear.

I'm also on the script committee, and am co-chairing set dressing. But with my tiny part, I won't need to be at rehearsals very often, and set dressing is only a few Saturdays. And the script committee (a group that chooses next year's plays) will be done in a week or so. I'll keep myself from getting too run down like I did last month.

My herx from hell has finally subsided. Three weeks of fun-filled torture. For me, the most key thing about getting through it is SLEEP, SLEEP, AND THEN MORE SLEEP. If I feel like napping after work, I do it. Going to bed at 7:30 p.m.? Sure. Take a Lunesta, plug in the electric blanket, and pass out. Plus, sleeping is great because it gives me a break from feeling all my symptoms raging. Other things that help are drinking lots of water, continuing to take all my vitamins, and very warm baths with Epsom salts to help draw out the toxic yuckies. Then warm jammies and more sleep. I set up camp on my couch, with quilts, piles of books, magazines, Netflix DVDs, a big glass of water, my phone, and my remotes near me. Beyond that, all you can do is just wait it out and take care of yourself the best you can.

I desperately need a haircut. And to do my nails. And work on my overgrown eyebrows. And give the dogs baths and trim their nails, too. We're all shaggy, hairy, and out of control.