What the hell is this?

I Can't Stand [Meeting] You is a collection of all the ridiculous things I've written to and about drummer and composer Stewart Copeland.

I actually did meet him for about five crazy seconds in 2007, again for a few exciting moments in August 2009, and my most recent (and most thrilling!) encounter took place in October 2009, where I proved myself capable of being, yet again, a total dork in the man's presence.

I can't believe what I get up to. And neither should you.

Thursday, September 23, 2010

Dear Stewart,

Hello, friend!

My apologies for my long silence. Things have been going really well, and I've been a little busy, but I have been thinking about you. Is that weird? I think that's weird. Yes, I do, but I do it (and tell people about it) anyway.

I've actually been considering dropping this blog for awhile. What will my son (oh, yes, did I tell you? I'm having a little boy!) think of this enterprise of mine in a few years? Or my son's friends? Or the parents of my son's friends? It's a little strange, no, for a grown woman to have as a hobby, don't you think?

Anyway, I haven't made any decisions yet. I'm still here, and (I hope) you are too.

So what have I been so busy with?

Last Friday, City Garage opened "Paradise Park" by Charles Mee. This show runs through November, and it's a lot of fun. I was in tech rehearsals for about a week and a half, and they went surprisingly well. Hey, no tears or meltdowns. This show is technically a little more complicated than usual (it's a short show, there are a lot of cues, and I have to use this crazy machine that controls two slide projectors; the machine apparently has a mind of its own and requires no less than 11 steps to set up: I suspect there are simpler systems at NASA), but it looks amazing and got a great review from the LA Weekly. Unfortunately this will be the last production in the awesome alley space (a decision on the new location hasn't been made yet), so hey, you really should come see it. http://www.citygarage.org/

Otherwise, I've been doing great. I'm having a really easy pregnancy, from what I can tell (and I hope I didn't just jinx it by saying that). My husband and I are excited and freaked out and happy and scared and I guess those are typical feelings for new parents? Well, I hope so. What was it like for you when you had your first baby? Weren't you a burgeoning rock star at the time? No such pressures on us, but we do have to figure out how we're going to juggle work and everything. It's not quite the same as what I guess you were probably dealing with! I was having a little anxiety over my size (no surprise there) but yesterday at my check up, the doctor weighed and measured me and told me that I'm right where I'm supposed to be. I was feeling too big/too small on alternate days but now I'm satisfied that it's okay.

Oh, and while she was listening to the baby's heartbeat on her little machine, he kicked! His heart was beating at 156 beats per minute, and I swear, that kick came right on the one. She had asked me before if I'd felt him moving around, and I wasn't sure - how am I supposed to know what a baby inside me feels like when it moves around? I wasn't sure if I was just digesting lunch! But the kick during the exam confirmed it: my kid has a heart, and he has rhythm (we've seen ultrasound photos; he also has a head, arms and legs [the required amount of each] and a spine... we were happy to see an intact beat as well). Needless to say, Patrick was pretty excited about that. I am too.

Listen. I'd love to see you at City Garage. You will really enjoy this show, I promise. And aside from being our last production in the alley, it's also my last show, if not forever, than for a long while. No, I'm not in the show, but I have a job to do, and it's a pretty important one.

Think about it. I might even let you put your hand on my perfectly sized belly.

Love you,

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

No, no, no! I've got three kids who could suffer the potential embarassment of a mother with a weird hobby and I still do it! It can't be any worse than when I fly into the school parking lot with Weezers "Hash Pipe" blaring in my pajamas can it?
Anyway, please keep writing.