To say that I had a crap March is an understatement. It was as if the Ides were high on PCP and decided that with the help of the Furies they would take Samba lessons on my physical and mental state. It’s been a long 31 days till the fool of April brings hopeful and hardy release. Lately I’ve been feeling like that old theatre story about CATS. How two ladies who lunch are out and one has seen CATS and the other hasn’t. So in effort to enlighten her friend she describes the show as follows: (insert Long Island accent)
So, there’s this cat, she’s sick, well she’s dying. And all the other cats sing and dance around her to make her feel better. And then they put her in a tire and slam her through the ceiling. The End.
I’ve been slammed through the ceiling people, my greatest hope is that my equilibrium will return once I get to the Heavy Side Lair. Which I am sure will be any minute now.
Creatively I am thriving, I have many projects in the air at the moment and they seem to be the only things coming together in my life. I finished my play and submitted it to the Princess Grace Playwriting Grant, I have some stand-up shows coming up, I am developing a podcast with a friend that is going to be Hi-Larious.
Then the latest came to me while watching bad basement theatre yesterday with my friend Madeleine, who owes me big time for taking me to bad basement theatre. The set of the show was not unlike that famous or shall I say infamous picture of 5 dogs playing poker. It made me laugh so hard that I thought why not write a show in which 5 actors dressed as dogs play poker. Andrew Lloyd-Webber must have had a crap March too at some point, but I’m thinking I won’t slam one of my pooches through the ceiling. Maybe just a nice gang bang at a dog park will be dramatic enough.
A special shout out to everyone who’s kept me together this month!! You’re my invisible glue!!!
MWAH!
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