a leap in the dark...

[Lisa P]

Ahhh, Jack. You're the only one who truly understands me.

People keep asking what’s going on with me. I say I wish I could tell them. It’s not that I don’t know. I just can’t tell them. I am feeling very complex the last few days. Not unhappy, not confused, not depressed. Complex.

I’ve been running on autopilot for the last couple of months. Work, classes, practices, shows, parties and hanging out. There hasn’t been a moment to stop and think. I have some emotional work to do. Gotta’ sort some things out.

Why, for example, am I hesitant to meet an undoubtedly pleasant man whom I originally thought it would be nice to meet? Don’t know. Fear of rejection? Maybe. Fear that I don’t know what I want is more likely.

I also have this problem with falling in love with any man who is nice to me. Leos do that. I don’t know why. Ask the stars. Oh, it doesn’t last long in most cases. Usually after a week or so I snap out of it. Usually.

Sometimes I fall out of love with them and then right back in love. They probably don’t even know it. It could be you. Or you. Or even you, though I doubt you ever imagined it. Oh, and you - definitely you.

By the way, the oddest thing happened last weekend. I had an incredibly erotic dream about someone entirely new and unexpected. That wasn’t the odd thing. The odd thing was that I had no trouble at all making eye contact or even physical contact with this person later. And no, it wasn’t Callie.

Work was a lot less stressful the last few days. I managed to get a lot done on Friday (when the boss is away the mouse can get a shitload of work done), and then went to a really swank wine tasting hosted by one of the companies whose wine we distribute. I took my sister, and we had a great time.

We tasted all kinds of wine, some of which we liked and some we did not. I pronounced one champagne to be quite good. I was then informed that it had been Winston Churchill’s champagne of choice and was $160 a bottle. I have good taste, apparently.

Today I cleared up the remains of what I hope will be an isolated problem. We have seven branches all over North Carolina, and I monitor and pull information from several spreadsheets that are kept on a shared drive. This drive is a pain in the ass to reach from the branches.

Though none of them have said so, I believe that the last time the people who enter information into these spreadsheets were all together, they discussed the difficulty accessing the shared drive and decided that the way to do it was by using a shortcut. The way they set up the shortcut was to just drag the file onto their desktop. * sigh *

These are wonderful, intelligent, hardworking gentlemen, all of them. It broke my heart to have to call them one at a time as it became apparent that they were dutifully updating the copies on their local drives. They felt foolish, and I could only tell them that I had done the same thing once, which was how I knew what had happened. Now they know how to set up shortcuts. Bless their hearts.

One time I had to show some men in my office at the hospital how to put together file boxes. Now, the instructions are printed right there on the box, and they almost put themselves together if you just open them up, but these men were completely baffled. I walked in, assembled a box in half a minute and said, “See?” To which one of them responded, “That wasn’t emasculating at all.” I try to be careful. Really.

Today I left work and had a forty-five minute conversation with one of my coworkers about the fact that I’m feeling complex. He is a wise man if you can work your way through the excessive verbosity. It was a helpful conversation, although I still don’t know what to do about the complexity.

I went to the mall to pick up the book for the book club. I haven’t even had time to buy the book yet, much less read it, but after bitching about wanting to read fiction instead of Fast Food Nation, I am not about to say I’m sitting this one out. That would just be rude.

I didn’t get the book yet – I had to order it. While I was at the mall I figured I’d pick up my facial soap (I’m allergic to everything, so I only buy a specific brand) and while I was there I thought I’d buy a new lipstick (for the first time in my life I’ve actually used up an entire lipstick. I never did that before. I started wearing it for a particular crush. That crush has faded, resurged, faded and is now somewhere uncertain, but I kept the lipstick. Go figure.)

On the way out of the store I saw a wonderful sweater half price and I had to have it. I’ll wear it this weekend. You’ll agree – I had no choice. And I found some Clark’s sandals to replace the ones that got unaccountably stinky last summer and had to be thrown out (sorry, too much information).

Finally, since I was there, I figured I’d get my hair cut. It’s the same cut, just fresher and bouncier. The point is, I decided I needed to take care of myself. I’ve been eating all wrong, not getting enough sleep, and letting myself get way too stressed out over just about everything.

This may not last, but man, I sure felt good strutting down the mall with my sassy haircut.

 

[Lisa P]

Must. Speak.

Most of you who have played with me are no doubt painfully aware by now of my strong tendency to let my scene partners carry scenes. Confidence in my ideas has been a struggle for me from the beginning, and I suspect it always will be.

I am very shy. I mean, pathologically shy. My parents considered taking me to a psychologist as a child because of it. I am occasionally almost paralyzed by it. I know this is difficult to believe when you meet me (though not if you read my journal regularly, I suppose). I learned years ago that, through sheer strength of will, I could overcome the shyness and interact with people, even though I believe that nobody really wants to talk to me or be my friend.

My lack of confidence on stage is a direct result of that shyness. It follows that the solution is to apply the same strength of will to overcome that lack of confidence. In the same way that I am able to make myself walk up and speak to someone I am sure wants nothing to do with me, I must make myself say what comes to my mind on stage, even though I am sure that it is the dumbest possible thing any human being has ever uttered and that my scene partner, whose idea is brilliant, will hate me forever, as will the audience.

I will not always be successful in my quest for boldness on stage. I am not always successful with the shyness problem. I hardly met any new people at DSIF. I didn’t want to bother anyone. They didn’t want to know me anyway. The amusing result of that was that I was dubbed a Mystery Woman. I am not aloof. I am terrified of you all.

To aid me in my quest, I decided to retake the DSI Level 1 class that started last night. It promises to be a lot of fun. It’s a very diverse class – people of all different ages, backgrounds and skill levels. Ethan and Mike are in the class, too.

I was made to promise that I would not puss out by using my experience as an excuse not to work. You can fool some of the people all of the time, and all of the people some of the time, but you can’t fool Ross ever. Don’t even try it.

I was as anxious about playing It’s Tuesday as the new people were. I always am. You can’t hide fear and laziness in just two lines. You have to do your share. I did not realize until afterward that I had a lot less trouble playing with the newbies than I usually do with more experienced improvisers. I wanted to support them because I didn’t want them to feel uncomfortable. I wanted to nurture them.

This is what I need do with my experienced scene partners. They need nurturing, too. I need to make sure they don’t ever feel uncomfortable with me. I’m working on it. I know I said that a long time ago. I’ll probably still be saying it a long time from now, too. When I stop working on it is when I stop growing.

 

[Lisa P]

Sometimes in life there is random cake.

So here I sit, drinking a beer, eating a baked brie and baking a cake. (I am obviously not a participant in that odd DSI Atkins diet fad).

“Why a cake?” you may ask. Me, too. I don’t really even like cake all that much. Oh, I have been known to eat it on occasion. Usually only special occasions, but there are exceptions.

Once Throw Like a Girl had a meeting at Eric’s place. Yes, there were penises present, but Tony’s Pony was there, and since TLaG was three-fifths Tony’s Pony at the time, it made sense. We didn’t discuss any of the super secret Girl stuff. In fact, we didn’t really do much at all except goof off and drink Eric’s root beer. What was my point?

Oh, right, cake. Eric had made this really tasty, cakey pumpkin bar kind of thing, and I ate two pieces. But I don’t usually eat cake. What was my point?

I don’t think I had one. Oh, cake. I was driving home today and I suddenly thought about cake. Wedding cake. Oh, not wistfully. No, not at all. I pass my old house every day on the way home, and today as I drove by I had a sudden memory of when I was moving out how I had put a little box with some keepsakes on the floor.

In this box were the plastic bride and groom from my wedding cake. I left it on the floor and went to do something else, and when I came back into the room, the dog had gotten out the bride and groom and bitten the groom’s head off. If I had harbored any doubts about my decision to leave (which I did not) they vanished at that moment.

So, anyway, remembering that made me think of cake, and I decided I really wanted some. So now I’m baking a cake. And drinking a beer and eating a brie. You don’t care, do you?

Now that I think of it, I dreamed I was getting married the other night. I was happy because I knew I was very much in love with this man, but for some reason I couldn’t remember anything before that morning, so I didn’t really feel like I knew him well. The wedding was beautiful. Well, actually, it was very strange in that dream kind of way, but in the dream I thought it was wonderful. There were bagpipes, which are guaranteed to make a wedding wonderful. But I just couldn't remember anything about this man I was about to commit the rest of my life to.

I’m not even going to try to decipher that one here. If you don’t already know what it means then it’s probably just as well. You really don’t need to know. I’m pretty sure I know.

My cake is done. I will probably not eat any of it, but I feel satisfied having made it. I understand that I can't have it and eat it, too.

 

[Lisa P]

I think, I feel, I want

There are things in life I know I want. No question about it. But I am usually too afraid to ask for what I want, and you know what they say: You don’t get what you don’t ask for.

This is all linked to the confidence problem. I don’t deserve it and if I ask, that person will hate me. What the fuck – where did this come from? Nothing in my life that I can think of has taught me this. Why would I be so afraid to ask for what I want? Oh, you might say I learned it in my marriage, but that is not true at all. It was a factor in my marriage, but it was there long before that.

Last week I asked my boss for time off to go to the Del Close Marathon. Now this would not be a big deal except for one thing. When I interviewed for the position he told me there would be no weekends required except for two Saturdays a year, when we do our physical inventory. Everybody works, no exceptions. Yeah, you guessed it.

I was crushed when I saw the dates and immediately began planning on flying up Saturday evening after work and hoping that if TLaG makes it in we would be scheduled after I got there. Building Maintenance Guy came in and saw that I was stressed out (he worries about me, bless his heart). I told him what the problem was and he said I should just go ask.

I knew he was right. My boss is as tough as he has to be to effectively manage seven facilities, but he is also a really nice man and does whatever he can to make people feel good about their jobs and themselves. So I went in and asked for the weekend. I really put him on the spot. I told him I knew I was putting him in a difficult position, but that I knew for sure I wouldn’t get the time off if I didn’t ask for it.

He asked me to give him a week to think about it, and yesterday he told me he had decided to give me the weekend off. He may take some flack for it, and I feel bad about that, but he knows why he made the decision, and he will have no problem dealing with the consequences.

This is a valuable lesson for me. You can’t just hope someone will know what you want and give it to you. If you want something, you have to say so. That doesn’t mean you’re going to get it or even that it is a realistic desire. But you’ll rarely ever get anything you want if you don’t actively pursue it.

I plan to start asking for what I want more often. I’m not promising myself I will do it all the time. Frankly, that’s not going to happen, given my personality. But don’t be surprised if I start telling you what I want; don’t be startled at this sudden change in behavior. It doesn’t mean my feelings have suddenly changed. I’ve wanted it all along. I’m just going to tell you about it. Sorry if that puts you on the spot.

 

[Lisa P]

In search of a technicolor dreamboat

drmaulfish: hey, my computer is acting up
drmaulfish: can you do me a favor and go on weather.com and tell me what the weather is like outside
LCPalmi: ok
drmaulfish: zip code 27514
LCPalmi: damn. a cold front came through. they're talking fucking snow later today.
LCPalmi: CRAP
drmaulfish: are you serious?
LCPalmi: i am so sick of this shit
drmaulfish: me too
drmaulfish: so what is the temperature?
drmaulfish: in the thirties?
LCPalmi: 31
LCPalmi: damn!
drmaulfish: FUCK
drmaulfish: FUCK FUCK

drmaulfish: FUCK FUCK
LCPalmi: i didn't bring anything but my raincoat
LCPalmi: imagine, show on APRIL 1ST
LCPalmi: snow
LCPalmi: on APRIL 1ST
LCPalmi: of course, it might be 53 outside, with a high of 56 and some showers expected
LCPalmi: that was probably the first april fools i've done in ages
LCPalmi: i always forget

At this point I realized that CeCe wasn’t online anymore. I have no idea if she was there when I let her off the hook. That was pretty satisfying. I wonder if she decided to err on the side of caution and wear boots when she went out today.

There haven’t been any April Fools jokes at work that I’m aware of today. They didn’t do them at the b-school, either. But we played some doozies at the rug store. April Fools Day was our 2nd favorite holiday (Halloween being the favorite). That was always a fun place to be.

The people here are very nice, but dull. I think I have been spoiled by hanging with improvisers. Normal people just don’t hold my interest. I had lunch with a very nice, normal man the other day. He was pleasant and the conversation never lagged, but I just wasn’t interested. He was the gray house in my dream, and I admit I may have let that color my impression at lunch (no pun intended).

I want colorful and unpredictable. Hmmm. This is not new. It’s not a result of being with improvisers.

My ex was colorful. He was unpredictable in some ways (in other ways he was completely predictable. I don’t think he ever realized that I always knew when he was lying). And there is no denying that hanging around firefighters makes for exciting conversation and madcap hijinks. A different sort from improv hijinks, but no less invigorating.

Ahh, well. I’m closer to figuring out what I want, I guess.

I have made some progress in the saying what I want department. It’s been a little frustrating, as, except for the DCM weekend off, I don’t believe I'm going to get what I asked for, but at least I’m not wishing I hadn’t spoken up. I will keep applying the new policy to other areas. Who knows? Maybe I’ll get lucky. I guess that's more likely to happen if I go out and just grab that luck with both hands and hang on.

 

[Lisa P]

We spend a lot of time moving tables here at DSI.

I had a bad dream last night and I’m having the hardest time shaking it off.

I dreamed I went to the house team audition and it was in a big school cafeteria. We had to move the tables out of the way to make space to play, but we just kept moving them and moving them and there was never any room. Ross started yelling at me about the fact that other people had gone outside and weren’t moving tables.

We finally got the tables moved and got ready to start warming up, but all of the sudden there were a bunch of strangers among us, actually they outnumbered us – there were only three or four DSI’ers who were there (I knew them in the dream, but I don’t know who they were now, except for Lauren Watson). The strangers started playing weird warm-up games that we didn’t know, and it made us feel uncomfortable. It was very chaotic; nobody was in a circle and they were starting up more than one game at a time. It felt awful.

I looked around for Ross, thinking he should bring the group to order, but he was just standing there looking at me and I knew he expected me to do it. I tried weakly, but they wouldn’t listen, and all I managed to do was get the DSI people in a semicircle, but the others were still playing their games, very strongly and confidently. Finally, Ross got tired of waiting for me to take control of the situation and just sighed and spoke quietly and everyone joined the circle.

Suddenly I was on a stage improvising and I was having trouble listening and trying to figure out what was going on. I knew my scene partner (who happened to be Mike Myers) wanted me to do something specific, but I couldn’t figure out what it was, and so I just stood there and he had to keep filling in the blanks where I should have been doing it. I felt humiliated.

There are elements in this dream with different levels of meaning, and writing it down has helped me to see them. The main theme is pretty simple, though. I am anxious about Sunday’s audition. I fear failing a third time. After all this time, I should not still be struggling with the same problem. I can’t face another failure, and I can’t quit. I don’t know why this is so important to me. I am on a successful team already. It is always very rewarding to play with TLaG. I just really want to be on a house team.

I have been depressed all day long. It just makes me want to throw up my hands and give in to it and lie down on the bed and cry. I resisted and cooked instead. I made borek, the only Turkish dish I learned to make in ten years at Woven Legends. It is tasty and a nice comfort food for me.

Now I’m full of borek and still feeling sorry for my sorry self, but soon it will be time to get ready to go to see some improv, and I’ll feel better. I guess the plan should be to get home early and get some good rest so I can do my best tomorrow.

The dog is politely requesting some quality time (she told me this by dumping her soggy rawhide chew onto my keyboard). I wish she could hug me right now. I could use it.

 

[Lisa P]

i am sorry

i am so sorry i wasted your time. i won't bother you again, i feel really stupid. i am sorry. i don't know what i was thinking. please forget me asap. hey, look on the bright side, i was as at least good as the people who showed up who never improvised before. that makes me feel so much better. fuck me very much. this is probably really self destructive, but fuck it. it's my journal, right?

 

[Lisa P]

Wow

That was pretty raw. Sorry about that. I swear it wasn't aimed at anyone in particular except me. Today will be a difficult day, and we'll see how I feel about things tonight. I have spent enough time and money on this that I should be a lot further along than I am by now, and the wise thing to do is to just cut my losses. If I were wise, though, I'd have done that a long time ago.

I can't deny the good it's done me, at least on the surface. But deep down, I still feel pretty fucking worthless. If it weren't for my commitment to TLaG, I would probably seriously quit altogether. So I guess that answers that. I need to keep working on it for them.

I only know two other names of people who made the incubator team, and I am happy for them. They are wonderful and will be on regular house teams in no time. I know they will do great. Congratulations to them. This is a step forward for them, and they will be running past me like everyone else before long.

Well, I feel like crap and have managed to hurt and or piss off enough people for now. I think I’ll go back to bed.

 

[Lisa P]

*SLAP!* Pull yourself together, woman!

Ok, I hit the reset button, otherwise known as walking the dog to the lake.

Ouch. That was a really hard fall. I set standards for myself and compare myself unrealistically to others and I am completely intolerant of myself when I don’t measure up. If I sounded like I was blaming anyone else for this, I am sorry. That was never how I felt. I place the blame solidly on my own head.

Honestly, in all the years I’ve struggled with these nosedives, this is the first one that ever actually frightened me. I will, of course, self medicate tonight by going to practice and resuming the pounding of my head against the brick wall that is my own shitty self-image. I will knock that fucker down yet.

Again, I am sorry if I hurt you or appeared to dismiss something you were excited about. My emotional crap is not about any failing on the part of DSI or anyone involved with it. I have been so excited about how it has grown, and have been a sincerely enthusiastic cheerleader from early on.

My emotional crap is just that. Crap. And mine. I have tried to make it someone else’s responsibility more than once, when it seemed too much for me to bear, but I know full well I am the only one who can fix it.

That was part of the dream I had the other night about the audition. All those people were me, some of them confident but out of control and inconsistent, others fearful and unsure of how to deal with the unknown. I have asked other people to help me fix that, but I am really the one who has to do it.

What a terrible burden to place on someone else. I am really sorry. Slap me hard the next time you see me. And, hey, if you’re tired of hearing it, please know that I am right there with you on this one. I am sick to death of this shit. It’s getting fucking old.

The part about the tables? Well, we really do move a lot of tables.

 

[Lisa P]

I’m really not crazy most of the time, I promise.

Ok, I’m done. I think I’ve gotten over myself now. I am still dealing with the negative thought loops, but I am cutting them off as soon as I become aware of them. It’s a strange thing, this depression. I saw someone for it once, but I didn’t find it particularly helpful. My own treatment – planning and listmaking – works well for me.

This was the worst in years. I felt like I was drowning. They say drowning victims try to push their rescuers underwater in an effort to keep their own heads above water. Thanks for being there, guys. I hope I didn’t make you swallow too much water. I was really scared.

I no longer feel the heaviness in my arms and legs that I felt Monday and much of Tuesday. That subsided as I sat with my TLaG teammates and coach and planned our DCM application. I could actually feel it leaving me. Very cool. Friendship as therapy.

Incubator practice was very good for me. At first I had to consciously remember that I love improv and have fun doing it, but Austin, standing in for Jon for the first hour, had us do some trust exercises, and that was exactly what I needed. As I found myself being literally supported by my teammates, I began to swim to the surface.

I have played with almost everyone in the group, and the two new players are both female, so I automatically love them. Femprov rules.

So, yeah, better now.

 

[Lisa P]

Every girl's crazy 'bout a sharp dressed man.

I’m a little worried about myself. I took a nap after work because I haven’t been sleeping all that well (that part doesn’t really worry me, it’s not new) and I.I. went back to midnight shows this weekend, so I needed the rest. The worrisome part is the really odd dream I had.

Someone I recently noticed and was curious about (you don’t know him) came by my office to tell me that he wasn’t interested. A coworker commented on how that was kind of harsh, and I said, “He didn’t mean it. Look how he got all dressed up for me!” And it was true; he had clearly gotten all dressed up to come talk to me.

Upon awakening, I thought about the dream. Yeah, he was all dressed up. In drag. Skirt. Wig. Makeup. Everything. He was lovely.

So, I am concerned that my gaydar is malfunctioning and the backup system has kicked in. I shared this with a gay friend tonight who agreed that maybe I need to recalibrate.

Shit.

 

[Lisa P]

Nothing is certain but improv and taxes

So, we had our first Macho Sasquatcho Harold practice today, finally. We had two practices as sort of a general practice group that didn’t know what it wanted to be when it grew up, but a number of us had joined in the first place because we wanted to continue practicing together after the Level 3 Harold class ended.

When the April Inside Improv lineup was posted and we were on it, that kind of ended the confusion (but only after two additional weeks of confusion). There were only four of us there today (it is, after all, Easter) and I don’t think we’ll be at 100% capacity for the next couple of practices, but the team is solid and we will do well and have fun when we hit the stage at the end of this month.

Yeah, I was at an improv practice on Easter Sunday. I’m back to my crazy full time improv schedule again. I do have Wednesdays off. I don’t actually have to be at all the I.I. shows, but I hate to stay away. I don’t want to miss anything.

At what point did this stop being a hobby and become a lifestyle? Almost immediately, and that really is ok. I didn’t have much of a lifestyle before. Well, I guess you can’t not have a lifestyle. Mine just basically consisted of needlework and TV, with Bunco thrown in once a month. Yawn.

The question is, at what point does improv stop being a lifestyle and become an obsession? Have I already passed that point? Is this a problem? I don’t think I do much of anything else besides work. Hell, when do I have time for anything else?

I guess I should just gauge it by how I feel. Right now I am happy more than not. Last week was tough, but when I compare the way I always used to feel (depressed) and the way I almost always feel now (happy), last week was a hiccup. Um, well. Worse than a hiccup - maybe a leg cramp. But it doesn’t compare to the happiness that offsets it, so I guess I’m good for now. I know someone will arrange an intervention if one is ever needed.

I finally got around to doing my taxes. I procrastinated so long because I had absolutely no idea whether I would have to pay or not. In spite of the fact that I handled the day-to-day household expenses, I never had anything to do with the taxes. I didn’t want to – too scary. So, as per my usual pattern, I waited till the absolute last minute. I needn’t have worried. Nor shall I worry about how I will pay for the DCM trip. So, yay for doing my taxes. I’m a grown up now.

 

[Lisa P]

Shake it up, baby. Twist and shout!

Warning: Seriously random post tonight. I am just trying to process way too much stuff right now. Thank you for your patience.

Why is it that my animals are happiest when they are playing with something they know they aren’t really supposed to have? With Ginnie, it is stolen socks. She just loves to carry our socks around. She will have a pile of three or four at any given time. She even had Meljo’s socks for a little while.

Maggie Cat loves stolen hair elastics. She is blissfully playing with one right now, flinging herself all over the living room (Ginnie is watching indulgently, with her chin resting on her stash of stolen socks).

Update on the cake: I did wind up eating it after all – a little bit at a time. I froze it and ate a piece every once in a while, whenever I had the inclination and the opportunity. It’s all gone now and I feel sad about that. It was really good while it lasted.

If you think opera, John Mayer or Sarah McLachlan cut right to the bone, listen to Billie Holiday. Lady sings the blues, indeed. Wow.

I dreamed about tornados night before last. I don’t think I’ve mentioned them here, and I don’t think I’ve had one of those in a while, but the tornado dreams have always come at times when I felt there were major disruptive factors in my life over which I had little control. In these dreams, I am usually out in the open with others and am the first to see the funnel clouds. I am always the person who makes sure everyone finds shelter.

Unlike the fire dreams, I have actually been in very close (read very dangerous and scary) proximity to three tornados, and in two of them I actually was responsible for making sure the people with me found shelter. Fortunately, nobody was injured in any of the three storms, as far as I know.

I can’t even begin to catalogue all the crap that I feel like may have inspired the dream. Some people know bits and pieces. It’s just too involved and boring and nobody wants to hear it. Jennings summed it all up the other night when he asked me if I was done being a flake and then made it abundantly clear that he didn’t mean to inspire talk about it. He is wise. Hug me, but don’t ask, because you really don’t want to know, I promise. Thanks to each of you who has offered a shoulder.

That being said, I abused my team mercilessly tonight, and they forgave me even as I did it. That is why I love them. No, I love them anyway. But I am glad they are my Girls. I mentioned already that I love them, didn’t I?

We took pictures tonight at Linda’s and went over our DCM application. I so want us to be able to play there this year. It really is improv Christmas, to quote Jennings (the man has an inordinate amount of influence over me, I confess).

Some of my friends have said some really nice things to me the last week or so, and they have made me feel so good. They really helped me stay grounded, I’m pretty sure they had no idea how much I needed it. I do love my DSI people.

 

[Lisa P]

You can't be nice to some people

When will I ever learn that you can’t reason with an unreasonable person? It just can’t be done, no matter how hard you try. After days of fielding nasty emails, I am just plain sick of trying to figure out new ways of saying the same thing. The guy wants an argument so bad that he can’t see, even in writing, that I already gave him more than he asked for. I’m just ignoring the last one. Maybe he just wants the last word.

So I caught the barest glimpse of the fiancée last night. I was curious, but not curious enough to give him the satisfaction of acknowledging his presence after all the hateful email. I hope by the next time I see him – Joanna’s graduation, I imagine – that he’ll be ready to be civil.

One thing that struck me, and made me feel satisfied with myself all day long today, was that it didn’t bother me at all to see them. I didn’t know how I would feel about it. He left me for a little while years ago because he was distracted by something blonde, and to be honest, I was relieved that he was gone, but I was really upset that he had left me for someone else and I hated to think about them together. And then he came back. And I let him. I was a dumbass, what can I say?

Of course the circumstances are completely different now. I left. So I guess it makes sense that I wouldn’t feel the same way I did before. Not at this point, anyway. A few weeks after I left the house he had someone sleeping there already (draw you own conclusions) and I was really hurt by how easily I was replaced. But now, well, bless his heart, I hope he gets everything he deserves.

I mean that in the nicest way. You can tell because I said, “Bless his heart.” In the South, you can say anything about someone and it is never bad if you add, “Bless his/her heart”. You know, like “She’s got an ugly nose, bless her heart” or “He’s a real bastard, bless his heart.”

Oh, those were just random examples. I don’t mean anyone specific. Really.

I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about what I deserve and how I expect to be treated. Just because I love someone doesn’t mean I should ever accept unacceptable circumstances. Didn’t I already learn that? Maybe not, if I’m still thinking about it. Someday I hope to internalize it so that I won’t have to keep reminding myself.

I got an adorable little flower arrangement from the company for Administrative Professionals Day. My boss took me out to lunch and then asked me to tell him all about my improv. I love my boss. How sweet to make sure to ask me about something he knew I was interested and excited about. He also gave me a card, which I put on my desk. Everyone who saw it was dumbstruck. I’m told he has never done that before. That was cool.

Joanna’s dance class had their recital last night. It is the first time I ever saw her dance, and I was amazed. She is so graceful. She is lucky because she inherited her father’s athleticism and my long arms and legs (deja vu – I may have already told you that before). Anyway, she is built beautifully for dance. She plans to keep studying it after she graduates and that makes me happy.

TLaG has submitted our show to the Del Close Marathon. Now we just have to sit and wait with everybody else. I plan to go either way, but it would be so incredible to be able to perform. It's about time for me to start counting days and making lists of what I need to pack. I plan to try to go commando again (no itinerary). Wish me luck with that.

 

[Lisa P]

I just love a man in uniform.

Throw Like a Girl had a wonderful show tonight. Wonderful. I think probably one of our best. Oh my God, I am happy. It was so incredibly fulfilling and… shit, I just can’t think of how to describe it. It was our first show at Inside Improv with Callie. Lauren couldn’t make it, but she’ll be back for our May show.

I feel so good about us right now. We had some slow practices and the show we did so we could make a performance tape was just not up to our usual standards. We chalked it up to stress. Everybody but me is going through finals and all that school kind of stuff. What will become of me when they all graduate?

We decided last practice that we would get together early today to practice before the show and then get something to eat. Normally I am not a big fan of practicing too much right before a show, but we figured the meal would give us enough of a break. As it happens, I think probably the practice was really the best thing for us. And the meal, too. We teased and abused each other and just really got into each other.

We kept the togetherness as we went to the Scoop, made a pretense of setting up (abusing Austin and his “six times the sticky” tape) and then we warmed up with a game of Zip Zap Zop that turned into a crazy kind of Go!, but with phrases instead of Go! We also played Hot Spot, of course, because we love it.

About the time we decided to wander back in and go pee before the show, the door opened and we heard the audience cheering. We were all the way at the end of the parking lot, so we ran all the way in and abandoned all hope of peeing before the show.

We proceeded to have the most fun we have in ages. AND, Olivia owes us all $5 because we all managed to give her a butt massage on stage (pre-show challenge).

Jen couldn’t make it tonight, but we were lucky to have Laine here visiting from Utah, so she pulled our lights and gave us notes. Not that we didn’t appreciate Zach giving us notes the last time, but the penis does get in the way where femprov is concerned.

Afterwards, we went to Ham’s for just a little while. All told, we had about seven hours together, and they were awesome. We are the best thing that’s happened to me in ages.

Speaking of the best things, Joanna’s prom night was tonight. She didn’t actually go to the prom because the school pulled out some last minute hoops for non-students to jump through in order to attend. Joanna’s boyfriend is a marine stationed in South Carolina, and there just wasn’t time to do all the hoop-jumping, so they went to a party with some friends who had kind of the same problem.

I made them get all dressed up early so that I could take pictures. I hadn’t seen Jeremy in his dress blues yet, so I was really looking forward to it. There isn’t anything in the world sharper than a US Marine when he gets all dressed up.

Oh... Joanna looked nice, too.

 

[Lisa P]

More color than I expected

I blew off the first Level 4 Harold class tonight. I think had a pretty good reason. I went to a Jimmy Buffett concert instead. It was a lot of fun and I needed the night out. I went with the friend from work that I had lunch with a couple of weeks ago. Along with us were two of his neighbors who were just a couple of years older than us and seemed to be very much into each other. They were sweet.

When the band took a break and the guys went to get a beer, she told me that she had just started going out recently. Her daughter passed away less than two years ago. Wow, that really puts things in perspective. I put my arm around her briefly and told her I was sorry. She said don’t be, that I’m lucky and that she could tell that I know it, and it made her feel better. She said my daughter was probably glad that I was at the Buffett concert, and she believed her daughter felt the same way. I think she’s right.

I really had a good time tonight, singing and dancing and clapping. It was strange to be out and not be with improvisers. It’s been a long time since I’ve been out with normal people. I guess a Buffett concert is not really the best place to judge how it feels to be out with normal people, is it?

Anyway, we had some beers, some tacos, we got lei’d and sang all night. It was my first Buffett concert, and I wasn't disappointed. It was everything I expected it to be. A cheesburger in paradise. The evening ended with a hug and a nice kiss on the cheek. I have no expectations, but I sure had fun.

 

[Lisa P]

Goodbyes are never easy

My Grandfather joined his beloved Polly in heaven Thursday night. I will miss him, and the world is poorer without him, but I am happy that they are together again. I know the last four months have been hard for him without her. She was his world.

Granddaddy’s name was James, but everyone called him Willie. We called him Granddaddy Willie. He looked like a Willie. He was very tall and he had a long, sad looking face, but he wasn’t really sad at all. He had a joyful spirit and the most wonderful sense of humor ever. He was what you would call a “character”.

He was a classic Southern storyteller. He didn’t usually tell amazing stories. They were stories of fairly ordinary events; he just had an extraordinary way of telling them. He could hold a room spellbound telling us about his days in the Navy. He was never the primary figure in these stories. They were always about his friends’ adventures.

He had one friend who was an Italian-American, or in his words, an Eye-talian feller, from New York. He said when they docked in Italy his friend told him he was going ashore to find himself a “liiiitle skinny Guinea with’a rav-a-ola (ravioli) eyes”. When Joanna was born, she became Granddaddy’s liiiitle skinny Guinea with’a rav-a-ola eyes.

He would do the funniest things sometimes; go out of his way just to make people laugh. One day he came home from a shopping trip with some monogrammed towels. He claimed to have had some trouble finding just the right letters, but he had found the perfect solution: he bought some that had a “P” for “Polly”, and some that had, not a “J” for James or even a “W” for Willie, but an “N”. For “Not Polly”, of course.

He was never happier than when he was playing with his grandchildren (eleven of them) and great-grandchildren (fifteen!). He was fond of bouncing a baby on his knee and singing “I love to go swimming with bow-legged women and swim between their legs, swim between their legs, swim between their legs” or some other equally off color ditty he learned in the Navy.

Granddaddy Willie was a deacon at his church and taught the Men’s Sunday School class for twenty years. If you wonder where I get my down to earth belief system from, he was one of the major influences. I learned from him that you can love the Lord and still be normal and natural in your day to day interactions.

I miss him already. I look forward to seeing him again someday. I know he is already collecting stories.

 

[Lisa P]

Yo, ho, ho and a bottle of absenthe!

http://www.fidius.org/quiz/pirate.php

Your pirate name is:
Mad Bess Rackham

Every pirate is a little bit crazy. You, though, are more than just a little bit. You have the good fortune of having a good name, since Rackham(pronounced RACKem, not rack-ham) is one of the coolest sounding surnames for a pirate. Arr!

Ha HA!

I am already a little bit sore. The wrestling was probably not wise. But, God it was fun! Thanks, Dana Brown, for taking it easy on me.

This has been… a weekend. I don’t know how else to describe it. I got home Friday to the message that my granddaddy had passed away. I called Jon and told him I would be late because I needed some time, so when I got to practice everyone knew. I was greeted with lots of hugs and love. What would I do without you all? Macho Sasquatcho practice was so wonderful, and the show rocked hard. If you missed it, you lost out big time, my friend.

Saturday I went out and bought myself a present. All my adult life I have wanted a cutting table. Yeah, I know. What the fuck is a cutting table? It’s a table that you can stand and cut fabric on without having to crawl around on the floor. Yay, tax refund.

Joanna’s room will be my sewing room when she moves out. That is what is keeping me from totally freaking out about it right now. I fished a neat little loveseat out of the dumpster (technically it was next to the dumpster) and I plan to slipcover it and make myself a nice space to chill. ‘Course, I have to stay home sometimes to enjoy it. We’ll see.

Granddaddy Willie was sent home with full military honors today as a retired Navy Chief. I knew what was involved in a military funeral, but there was no way to know what affect it would have. There was a funeral detail from the 101st Airborne, a twenty-one gun salute, Taps, and a flag ceremony. All that, coupled with the knowledge that he was a born again believer in Jesus Christ,made it a very satisfying goodbye. Granddaddy and Granny are together at the coolest banquet ever. And I will be there someday. I wish I knew how to explain that to people.

There was so much I wanted to say about Friday, but it was all overshadowed by my grandfather’s death. Macho Sasuquatcho was so awesome. We had our moments, but ultimately our sense of play overcame any doubt we had. It was so much fun. Someone pointed out today that I had played the cheeriest character ever (the cheerleader mom). That’s interesting, considering my state of mind at the time. I can only tout improv as therapy yet again.

Now I have to type up some instructions for the temp who starts Monday. This is supposed to be a weeklong job but, honestly, I think I could keep someone busy for a very long time to come. We’ll see.

 

[Lisa P]

Koyaanisqatsi

Hey there. I’m still around. I just haven’t had much to say. Which is not to say I haven’t had much going on. I just haven’t been ready to say anything about it the last week or so. I have a bunch of stuff blundering around in my brain and I haven’t made sense of it all yet. I guess I won’t till things settle down.

The biggest thing is that Joanna graduates in a couple of weeks and she’ll be moving away. We raise our children to leave us. Why is it so sad when we are successful?

Finances are a little uncertain. There is less money coming in, but there will not be less going out for another couple of months, and I’m not sure how everything will wind up once the dust settles. I’m thinking I’ll still be in about the same place I was in before, but I just don’t know for sure.

My job is overwhelming me. I still love it. I love my boss and my coworkers. But I’m drowning in the sheer volume of it. I keep thinking if I could just catch up, I could keep up, but I don’t have time to get caught up. The boss will be going on vacation, and I plan to use that opportunity to the fullest.

Like many others, I’m waiting for DCM news. The prospect thrills and terrifies me. I will be going to the Marathon regardless of whether TLaG gets in or not, but it would be a completely different trip. If we get in, I would want to be rested and not hungover, so much of the partying and the late, late marathon watching would be off my itinerary.

(if I were making one, which I am not)

(actually, there would be some planning necessary, so I guess I need an itinerary)

(no, I promised myself I would be spontaneous, not rigid)

(oh, be reasonable, just a little list wouldn’t hurt anything, would it?)

Improv-wise I don’t know where I am right now. I’m busy. God knows I’m busy, and that’s kept me happy up till now, but I’m starting to wonder where I’m going. I feel like I’m on a Stairmaster. I just keep climbing and climbing but I’m not going up. Have I reached the limit of my ability or just a plateau? And what do I do with that? So what if this is as good as I get? I’ve been happy.

Yes, I’ve been happy because I was growing. Solution: don’t stop growing. But maybe back off a little and rest as soon as it makes sense to do so. I’ll have to think hard about what that means.

Something nice happened to me today at lunch. I was sitting in McDonald’s reading and one of the employees came up to me and gave me an ice cream cone. They had made an extra one by mistake and didn’t want to throw it away. You may say this was just a random event.

I happen to know it was God telling me he will bless me with good and happy things.

 

[Lisa P]

Samuel Barber’s Adagio for Strings

If you want to know the title of this post, you’ll have to listen to that piece of music. It is one of my favorites. It is hauntingly sad and lovely and peaceful and graceful and beautiful and it is the perfect soundtrack for my life right now.

This morning Joanna came in and woke me to kiss me goodbye before leaving for school. For the last time.

I have the same feeling right now as I did as I watched her walk down the hall to her kindergarten class on her first day of school. I’m not worried about her – I wasn’t back then, either. She’s always been so self-possessed. She’ll manage better than I ever did.

I am not going to worry because I’m not that kind of parent. I did my best to teach her how to live and I trust what I taught her. She makes her own choices and always has. We all do, but so many of us have trouble accepting that.

I was recently offered a nickel to answer a question. I cheated, as the asker already knew her answer. In return, she gave me an answer that was worth so much more than a nickel. I owe her a debt of gratitude.

I have been battling some feelings for a while. That’s strange, because I am always telling people how we can’t choose our feelings, only what we do about them. But here I have been telling myself that I should not be feeling the way I feel and that I should stop it immediately.

The answer was that I should just let myself feel the way I feel. I am robbing myself of joy by judging myself and trying to control how I feel. I will no longer tell myself that any feeling I have is wrong. I am not wrong. I am right. And I am sad and lovely and peaceful and graceful and beautiful and I am perfect just the way I am right now.