And the Sun shone
And they were happy
And the Clouds were white
And the sky a scruptious blue
And the Street was busy
And the Shoppers many
And the Sun shone
And they were happy

I went to visit my sister today at the cafe where she works and I do no longer. I stayed to help her close the place and found, to my amusement, that I could no longer perform the menial tasks with the same efficiency and speed which I had formerly possessed. I was clumsy when filling the pop machine with ice. I'd forgotten where to store ice tea. Even in sweeping the floor I no longer remembered all the corners and chair legs. I have rarely felt so handicapped and stupid. I had to laugh, really, because I felt so obviously out of place that surely people were looking at me and thinking "Perhaps she was good, once."

Half an hour till show time. I am in the womens dressing room, checking my make-up. I have just been on my stage, making sure all the props are in their correct places. Yes, my stage. That's how I know I'm ready for this, is when I walk on and feel like I own the stage. I re-apply lip color, and practice my friendly smile, making sure to throw in a little wide-eyed innocence.
Fifteen minutes till show time. We gather in the mens dressing room to warm up our voices. I ask the guy who plays the villain how he's feeling. He's on. I'm on, we're all on. This is going to be a good show. The fellow who plays my love interest asks me if I'm nervous. "Not a bit of it!" I reply. "You know they say you're supposed to be a little nervous before you perform" he says. I feel mild annoyance. "Well, I'm not about to try and drum up the butterflies just because 'they' say I should be feeling them," I retort. The assistant director gives me thumbs up.
Five minutes till show time. We are back stage. I can see through a hole in the wall that my parents and sister are in the front row of stage left. The introduction music begins. I feel one enormous jitter of excitement, and then a cool confidence sets in, which is soon replaced with wild anticipation. The first scene begins. The actors are at their best, not rushing, not lagging. Timing is good. The audience laughs in all the right places, for all the right reasons. Blackout. The villain gives me a quick 'break-a-leg' squeeze, and we go onstage. The crowd is wired. They laugh, and energy flows into us. Oh, are we hot tonight! I am drowning in exhileration, as I play the part of a naiave, innocent, confused little barista. Here is my solo song, and my throat is so dry I think I will croak, but I don't. Praise Heaven for saliva flow! Applause, applause, and blackout.
The next scene opens peacefully, until my character makes a luckless blunder, and spills the beans unwittingly. The villain is very very angry, and I play very very terrified. The crowd, incensed by his violence and slime in contrast to my defenseless innocence, boo and hiss when next he appears on stage. This is glorious! He plays his part with such skill and finesse! Here is the climax, the final scene, the grand resolve. The damsel is rescued, the villain arrested, and it is pulled of beautifully! But oh! there is one tiny mishap, but so funny, the crowd is on the floor laughing (which is grand) and I want to laugh too! The urge is too strong, and thank goodness I am supposed to collapse into hysterical sobbing now, and so it is disguised. We sing our final song, and bow amid thunderous applause. I throw a kiss to the crowd. We have never played better, and I am drunk with happiness.
Now we are lined up by the door, and the audience shakes our hands. My smile is carved permenantly to my face. I have never said 'thank you' so many times in my life.
"You're singing is beautiful!"
"You looked like you were having so much fun up there!"
"We really enjoyed the show!"
"You looked so alive on stage!"
And my favorite of all; "You were so yummy!" says one lady of great style and class.
My feet aren't touching the floor. I float around, smiling and talking to people, wondering how it is possible for one human being to feel so much joy. I feel like it is over flowing and spilling in a river behind me as I go. I can sing, dance, shout forever! I see my director, and give her a hug. "Congragulations on your smashing success" I say. "There wasn't an empty seat in the house! They loved it!" She laughs. "Your timing was impeccable" she tells me, and shakes my hand vigorously.
Tomorrow perhaps, normal life will pick us up and carry us along, but tonight we are immortal. Tonight I will remember forever, for tonight I am thinking "I was born for this!"

Tomorrow night is the dress rehersal. It has come up so fast, that I can't actually believe we've had five weeks of rehersals. Last night was the best we've done it yet. Everyone was on and hot, the lines were delivered with perfect timing, the villain was hysterically villainous, and oh dear! it was a smashing success. The only flaw in this whole entire thing, is that a week ago I was suddenly attacked by a violent cold, which utterly wiped out my ability to sing for a full five days. I have never known such agonizing panic. It's my first show! I must be well! My director hasn't had an easy time of it either, but last night I was able to make a relatively pleasant song emerge from the depths of the fog which resides in my head. My performance is Saturday night at 7:30, and I am quite confidant that I shall be recovered by then.
People keep asking me if I am nervous. I feel no nervousness; just an unearthly excitement and delicious anticipation of my moments on stage. 'Was I born for this?' I ask myself. I don't know, but I was definately born to adore it.
This will be the last post regarding my play. My apologies for the lack of new bloggerings, but rehersals have consumed me. Ah, it shall all be over soon. Such sweet sorrow. However, after the 21st, things shall be back to interesting normality, I promise.

I sat in an aqua-green booth, eating a hamburger, fries and milkshake, when a tiny little old lady walked in and sat at the counter. She was obviously a regular, as every waitress knew her name and what she liked.
"So what's new in your life, Alice?" asked the waitress as she poured a cup of coffee.
"Well, dear, I got a new pair of glasses, and I'm hearing so much better now!" exclaimed the lady. The waitress looked taken back, and fumbled for a reply.
"Wow! What a good feeling!" she said at last.
"Yes, it is a relief." assured the lady, and went on to discuss her lawn.