Ugh. So itchy today. Not cool, psoriasis. Not cool. 

To be fair, the itchy is probably exacerbated by my outdoor activities: weeding, trimming, hoeing, etc. I hadn't so much as glanced at my herb garden, which I really ought to have done before heading to the garden center. Turns out my oregano came back gangbusters. The lavender in my front garden totally bit it, though, so I've just replaced that with the spare oregano. Hey, it'll be lush and green and require next to no care. I'm down with that. Now to start hacking away at the forest of weeds in the vegetable bed... Once I've got it ready, my sweetie is going to re-chicken wire the fence. While I'm fond of our resident whistle pig, I don't believe he needs a diet of squash and broccoli and watermelon. Grass and my hostas are quite sufficient. 

I'm still not entirely recovered from vacation, nor from the days that followed. Now Faire is fast approaching and there are songs to be learned and reconditioning of muscles to be achieved. There's gym stuff and Pirate stuff and get-off-my-butt stuff as well. Perhaps I should submit my request for more hours in the day. That's more likely than me getting efficient/motivated/organized. 

Back to the green and wild for me, and a picture of a sleepy Golden Tankin for you!

Good news, everyone! I made it through call backs without entirely embarrassing myself!

The morning started with me feeling all kinds of weird because I didn't know any of the people who'd come from the previous day's auditions, and most of the returning actors I only know by sight or from brief introductions/interactions. I figured I'd spend the better part of my day with my head bent over JoCo chords. Better to look busy than friendless!

I'd forgotten, though, that Ren Faire tends to draw lovely people. Between attending Every Single Call (save Improv, 'cause I was panicking and my dearest husband excused me) and chatting with many, many people, I barely had time to suck down water, wish I'd brought a change of shirts (so, so sweaty), and visualize the cold, delicious beer that was waiting for me at the end of the day. As for the calls themselves, dance was a blast. I am a huge sucker for sprawling peasant dances, chocka with spins and clapping and random bleats of joy. Even the court dance was fun. Again I say: so, so sweaty.

Vocal call? Here's the thing: I do not have the pretty pretty voice of most of the women auditioning, but I can stick to a harmony. I can sell the song. I can write verses which, while not tomincloset level, are usually mildly amusing. Sometimes they're even clever. Also, I can drum and play a basic ukulele. So there's that. 

Fight call freaked me out. It's been seven years - SEVEN YEARS! - since I fought on a regular basis. I figured I could suck it up, though, 'cause I know the choreographers and hoped they'd be kind... until I realized it wasn't a one-on-one call. No. There was a room full of us. Awesome. First was a short unarmed combo (note: unarmed is not my strong suit). One of the two choreographers made a tweak to my final punch, and the actual performance was fairly decent. Second combo was smallsword. My lines weren't as clean as they should've been, and my final lunge didn't look very pretty, but here's the thing: none of us were expected to have performance worthy fights after twenty minutes of work (including learning the combo, running it, tweaking it, performing it). Seriously, it was a revelation. And I'm a dork. As you know. 

Final call of the day was acting, and I read three scenes multiple times. Thanks largely to the director, who set a safe and friendly space, I had a blast. Worked with some seriously funny and talented people. Sheer joy. 

Worked right up until the last minute, and though I didn't have a change of clothes, I did finally get that cold, delicious beer.

It was glorious.