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HOME=SICK.
I was SO glad to get home
last week . Been gone two months , was totally homesick ...
the kind of homesick where that last hour on the plane is
the most desperate crawl of slow ticking eternity. I had a
sore throat and was very tired and just wanted to get into
bed with my Davey , show him how much I missed him .... then
show him again... ( I REALLY missed him...)then sleep in the
sweetsoft embrace of home sweet home . Finally able to relax
, my body went into full meltdown mode and the flu got me .
The flu .... how common . I only get it every couple of
years , so I suppose because I enjoy such great health most
of the time , when I DO finally succumb , I get the BIG
ONE , the one that kills babies and old people ... the one
that goes up to 11 .
Right now , my bones feel like bashed up hockey sticks , my
face is a grayish horror mask , my esophagus feels like I
ate a big crunchy bag of glass , and , once in awhile , I
kick into a coughing fit that sets my lungs on fire . And ,
for good measure , if I am unsuccessful in hacking up the
chunky dark planks of phlegm that come in shocking sizes and
colors .... I puke .
I have never been sexier .
I sometimes can sing when I'm ill , but with this , what
little sound comes out sounds like a bag of toucans being
pushed into a wood chipper . Not pretty . So I've had to
cancel a handfull of appearances and meetings this week and
am resigned to soaking my blankets with stinking fever sweat
and exploring the endless duh of cable television while I
wallow in self pity .
I don't know about you , but when I'm sick , I feel
useless , pathetic and SO sorry for myself I can barely do
anything . But this week marks the one year countdown to the
craziest endeavor of my career to date . In a mad , overly
caffeinated fit of bravado , I agreed to write and produce
an autobiographical one woman show for Portland Center
Stage . I thought " Sure! I'm a walking one woman show ...
I've been doing it for YEARS .... piece o cake ... right ? "
Well , as soon as I agreed to it , I basically fell into
random fits of panic and hair pulling on myself moaning "
WHY DID I AGREE TO THIS ?????!!!! I HAVE TO BE NUTS!!!! "
It's one thing to rock out and run my mouth in front of 800
people at a Balls show , but to captivate an intimate crowd
of 160 THEATER people , 8 shows a week , telling old scary
truths about MYSELF ?! Not the big fearless sex thug
rantings of a rock banshee , but the decidedly UNcool and at
times sad story about a lonely kid trying to find her way to
herself , by herself , through many missteps , mishaps ,
fuck ups and freak outs . The idea simply terrifies me and I
have actually lost some sleep over it .
A good friend of mine told me once ( and reminds me often )
if something scares the shit out of you artistically , that
is EXACTLY what you should be doing . It's why, I imagine ,
I ultimately agreed to do this . I was going to call it "Big
, Fat , Crazy , Bitch Whore ." But later decided on the
simpler , and more theater friendly , "Crazy Enough" . It
isn't going to be my life's story , but it will be stories
from my life that bring me to present day .
I'm a singer , first and foremost , and I absolutely credit
music with saving my life , so there will be plenty of music
... mine and others . Knowing me , there will be inevitable
tangents , rife with explicative filled rants , truths and
opinions .... and what else ? I haven't the slightest . I'm
just now barely well enough to write this .
I'm still terrified , and I still think I'm nuts ... but
here goes .
See you out there .
xoxoStorm
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