Rehearsals

Last night (actually, this morning at about 6) I dreamed I was moderating a session meeting at a beautiful beach house in a town not far from where I grew up. My best friend Jennifer and I used to ride our bike to "the point" in this town, a rocky man-made jetty that marked an inlet between the Atlantic Ocean and the inland waterway. We used to take picnic lunches there on weekends, when I was just about Petra's age, and we used to imagine that would be the coolest, most romantic thing we could think of to do with anybody. We made plans!

In my dream I was at a meeting in a house that had a view of the ocean and the point, and the house was for sale-- so realtors and customers were roaming around, not to mention the elders who were supposed to be working with me on the business of the church (exactly which church, I have no idea). Part of the work of the church had to do with the sale of the house-- maybe it was a manse! I was trying to get everyone back to our meeting room-- a gorgeous dining room with an ornate purple ceiling-- and disturbing everyone, evidently, with my yelling. "Like herding cats," I heard myself growl.

I have a feeling this is what our good director felt like at last night's rehearsal of The Mikado. We were all supposed to be off book for Act 1 (yeah, right, and I only appear in the finale!). We were a bunch of tired-warm-Thursday-night people, and we were joking and laughing and poking fun at one another's lapses. I for example, completely lost the seccond verse of my screed against Nanki-Poo and Yum-Yum, which is supposed to go something like this:

Pink cheek, that rulest where wisdom serves! Bright eye, that foolest Heroic nerves! Rose lip, that scornest lore-laden years! Smooth tongue, who warnest that rightly hears! Thy doom is nigh, Pink cheek, bright eye! Thy knell is rung, Rose lip, smooth tongue!

And so on. Instead, I barked a couple of random facial features, interlaced with "La La La La!" I give myself credit for not stopping the flow of the scene. My dear director gave me no such leeway. Oh, he was mad at us, a bunch of great big kittens, running amok.

Thing is, I remember the ending of my dream. I decided I wanted the house. I wanted it more than anything, that amazing view, that slice of a childhood dream, purple ceiling or not. And I was in tears, because I couldn't get anyone to focus on the work at hand with me, which I knew would result in my being able to realize my dream.

I am going to be very, very good at rehearsal tonight.