Act 1, Scene 3

 

While Trevor is the thespian in the family, once in a while I get a part. A ninety year old local woman has been producing plays in town for years now. She writes the scripts, illustrates the characters, and directs. The plays really do come together after 3 months of casting and rehearsals. In the past I have held minor parts tap dancing. That’s all I know. I am not an actress. The latest installment had me memorizing 14 lines and dancing a solo. The lines were a first. I played Flossie Phoney, a member of the Phoney family. I read my lines with gusto. It was a melodrama and I managed to earn a few laughs during my speaking parts. The man who played my husband is a very gifted performer, singer, member of a band. Years ago while still living here, my son, Trevor, made some appearances in Janey’s plays. This latest production was a bit of a stretch for me. It was a blast! It’s kind of scary because I don’t know how much longer this playwright will be around. It’s been a pleasure serving these little community productions. Each and every act and scene.

Oops!

Featured

DSCN1328.JPGI fell off the wagon.  I ate beef recently.  I know, I know…  I had taken my daughter-in-law for girls night out.  We went to see the new Peanuts movie.  Yume loves the Peanuts stories, characters, books, you name it.  So, it was a perfect set-up. I need to add that I go to the movies once every three years.  The movie I had seen prior to Peanuts was Argo in 2012.  There it is, the frequency with which I visit movie theaters makes going to see a movie a momentous occasion.  Our momentous occasion took on even greater proportions when the movie was over and we decided to drive till we found a place to eat at 9:30p.m. in Sacramento.  That wasn’t such a bad plan, but with me driving I noticed the Davis sign on the freeway and I knew that I had lapsed into non-functioning navigational skills.

It’s a good thing I wasn’t pointed in the opposite direction or I might have ended up in Oregon.

I spied an In-N-Out and upon closer inspection noticed the snaking cars waiting for their opportunity to order.  Ugh.  Not for me.  However, right next to this site was a weird Redrum Burger place.  We were both ready for something to eat.  It was 9:45 and she was far from her apartment in Sacramento.  What the heck, we will dine in this fine establishment.

First of all, they didn’t have inside dining.  It was cold.  Order anyway, eat in the relative comfort of the car. We both ordered 1/4 pounders.  Plain dead cow.  But what’s this?  They also offered burgers made of kangaroo and ostrich!!  No s***!  Such sacrilege.  How do they manage?  Wow!  Now I not only felt guilty for breaking my own personal edict, but I ordered from an establishment that does burgers exotic!  The place had some very young employees cooking and taking orders.  What do they know? What did I know?  In a moment of weakness manifest by hunger and misdirection, I fell off the wagon.

Update:  Since my initial visit to Redrum (on the back of their menu was an interesting story of the restaurant’s history) I discovered that the kangaroo option is no more.  Now, the bison burger is among the top two most exotic choices.  I took my Japanese homestay student over there for lunch and she went with Bison Burger.  Her assessment?  “Tastes like beef.”

 

Options

DSCN1250My hair has undergone some transformations. Just a mere 10 years ago, I was a brunette. After discovering Naturtint Honey Blonde 9N, brunette has disappeared. Love it! Full steam ahead. I have managed to convince a handful of people that I am a natural. Of course, they didn’t know me 10 years ago. But natural it is. Not going back. Maybe, in the coming year, I will sport Cotton Candy pink…restlessness.

My oldest son said it seemed to him I had gotten bigger. Maybe it was because his wife had gotten bigger (breastfeeding) and he was finely tuned to subtle, but noticeable changes. “No”, I assured him, “I did not get implants” (although if you are from Orange County, it’s almost required). A well-constructed padded bra does wonders. I have three in different colors. Gotta be prepared for all eventualities.

Options in life are necessary to the health and well-being of all of us. Balance is mandatory. Options bring balance. The next time the coveted Naturtint package arrives in my mail, I will eagerly open it and go to town. Literally. I go to town. Not so much, my town (been there done that) but the next town over. The one that boasts busy city streets, Desigual & Saks 5th Avenue, and a diner whose onion rings are presented in a tall stack. The iconic bridge and cable cars win my affection as I strut out of the subway. All is well with the world…and my hair.

Update: I have traded up.  My current companion is by Umberto, Beverly Hills, Italian Demi Color.  With those endorsements how can I possibly go wrong?!  My choice is Light Copper Gold.  I am turning into my husband.  Well, I have more hair than he has, but the color is about right.  Yep.  It has been 10 years since I went from brunette to blonde.  If I am still on this planet 20 years from now (putting me at 81) I will have given my Light Copper Gold a ten year run, and moved on from that marker to the next 10 as Cotton candy pink.

Albino

Yep. I have one. They actuallyDSCN0761 make them in white with pink eyes.  And I have one, in the form of an albino parakeet! No joke!! I lost my favorite parakeet, Daisy. Found her on the bottom of the cage…gone. I was crestfallen. She was beautiful with pale blue and pale yellow plumage. And quite friendly. I will miss her. Not as a replacement, but rather to make certain that her newly vacated cage was available for occupancy, I drove to Petco to choose another parakeet. I knew what I wanted.

On a previous pet run I had discovered, much to my surprise, that there is such a thing as a white parakeet. Very strange. Parakeets are distinguishable by their colors. This bird caught my eye immediately. The only white bird in the mix of color. I asked the clerk to please go for this oddball, that I wanted it. She held it in her hand and upon closer inspection, it appeared the bird had pink eyes. What was this? An anomaly. I asked the clerk for her input. Was this an albino parakeet? Apparently she had no previous knowledge of this peculiar bird but she agreed, “Yes, I think this is albino,” she said. “This is very rare,” she added. Imagine! A rare albino parakeet in my home.  Its name is Jelly Bean.  Watch the movie Slither for the sake of reference.  It’s very nervous.  That’s okay, it has a nervous owner.  We nervous types stick together. I don’t know how to sex a bird, so I look for eggs as the telltale indicator.  I love pet birds.  In recent years, I had a dog who made it through her fifteenth birthday.  She was suffering from all sorts of compromising, age-related problems and I couldn’t have her go on.  Too stressful.  When I had her put down, it served as the first time I had ever made such a decision.  Good decision.  Fifteen years is a long time for a dog.  And her owner.  Dogs are high-maintenance.  Birds are not. In the future, I may return to dog ownership.  In the meantime, I have my budgies. They sing and squawk and warble.  Just right.