HYPOCRITICAL

I was just enjoying a few quiet moments by blog-surfing this morning. I visited a few friends' spots and was slightly disappointed to find no new material to read. What? Are you busy or something? Do you think there's nothing going on in your life that I might be interested in reading? Is your camera card devoid of pictures upon which to found your posting? No jokes? No stories? Friends, don't you know I need even the minute-est of musings for added meaning in my life?

Then I realized that I haven't posted anything for a few days, either.

(Hope you weren't hoping for anything more than that!)

Well, as long as I'm here...

I've been at rehearsal. As much as it may interfere with things, I do have to say how much I love rehearsal. I love it truly, deeply, immensely. It fills me up. It is practically my favorite part of being in a play. My truly favorite part is getting to wear a wig and have beautiful hair for at least some part of my life. A few examples:

"Crazy For You"

(can you find me in the blondie line-up?)



"Man of La Mancha"
(a true travesty, having to put on that beautiful hair, and then mess it up to be a prisoner!)

"A Christmas Carol"
(I love my Little Bo Peep outfit!)

I wish I had pictures of me in my "Thoroughly Modern Millie" secretary wig and glasses. That was amazing (in a nerdy, hilarious sort of way). The best wig in that show was Millie's bob. I was jealous. Our Millie could flip that bob like nobody's business. Ah. Hair. I wish I really had some.

They tried to make me a blond in "42nd Street." I looked awful, though, so I've been brunette ever since. I got to see my new "Christmas Carol" wig last week. Dark brown. Love it. Too bad they can't just let me have it, minus all the ringlets and twists, etc. that are soon to go into it.

Bet you're so glad you just spent time reading about my hair fetish. Maybe I should have stayed away a little while longer!