If I pick one sign and stick with it, I wind up being right. If I try to guess every time, I’m always wrong.
So I had this great idea for a fun bit w/ giantswede and then when we tried to execute it, we could only find one person who met the requirements to make it work. The minute we had somewhere to be though, then we saw 10 people in 2 feet that would have made great targets. Grr.
Sometimes a bit will turn into a conversation when and where you least expect it, like the middle of the road.
Mistress Brown’s school of Astrology has become my favorite game. It’s not active like our Improve & Guerilla teachers like it to be, but is interactive. It works best with seated groups of people, and ever so occasionally, the pop quiz at the end turns into an active choice bit, which always makes me feel better.
This year, all of my best work has been alone. My afternoons are mostly solitary between 2 and 5, and that is when I really hit my peak. 4 o’clock is my power hour. (In life, as well as at Faire. I’m not an early bird or a night owl, I’m a mid-afternoon... cockatiel.)
bookwench is the jam on the toast. And she makes great hats that make me look good.
Looking good and feeling good may not always go hand in hand, but looking good certainly lifts my spirits.
Compliments are always nice (it’s still hard work to accept them graciously), especially when they come from the people you least expect to notice.
Two women brushing each other’s hair is an instant photo opportunity. And it feels really good (the brushing, not necessarily the photo op).
We really get into the mindset of the time period sometimes. The unseen becomes the biggest turn on, like hair and ankles (but not hair on your ankles, because that’s just weird.)
I don’t know where kymberlynn finds the energy to dance at the end of the day, but it is infectious, and a spontaneous jig during pub sing is a great way to end the day.
I hope I never stopped being surprised by the number of people and the force with which they love me. Never.
It’s hard to put on a stage face when your face looks like you’ve been weeping uncontrollably. Stupid allergies.
the back of a Ford Explorer is a surprisingly comfortable place to curl up and let my eyeballs clear themselves. The small ways that mikeoquinn takes care of me (such as bringing a pillow in the car, just in case) make my heart melt. I hate being "fragile" or "delicate" but I do love being "pampered." He somehow knows (patience, persistence and a desire to learn) how to take care of me best, even when I’m too grumpy to know better.