More weirdness

We are all a touch weird. As for me, the weirdness continues, and so good listeners pull up a couch and listen to what's on the stage within my house:

The heroine reveals a secret.

Sometimes I feel as though I'm staring into a looking glass and just beyond my grasp is the life I left behind. I loved the theater. I haven't been to a play in 10 years-- ten bloody years-- oh the torture. the horror. God save the queen this is dreadful!

Swaying back and forth like the crazy woman she has become, she explains.

I'm a mother now with only her memories.
Being on stage was a thrill -- whether it be reciting my poetry or kissing an ass in "A Midsummer's Night's Dream." Oh that ass was grand-- six foot tall with big brown eyes and breath like cheap peppermint candy.

Suddenly she realizes people are watching.

Oh, all ass kissing aside, I am now a mother with much grander responsiblities and play acting to attend to. This is my new stage: reading "Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone" aloud to my 7-year-old. After playing "Heidi" and all the characters from "The Wizard of Oz," I decided to move onto to something a little more controversial-- wizards and muggles.

She trips over the Little People stable and steps on a plastic cow, but she keeps her smile like a pro-- never breaking her supreme concentration. She continues.

But still, I'd be a liar if I said I didn't miss the real stage, and so like I wrote -- oh so bizarrely in my last post-- sometimes when no one is looking, I see if I've "still got it." Oh but please don't get me wrong. I go nuts when I think people don't understand me, and so few people understand me. Oh don't make me pace the floors!

She sits on the couch and turns off yet another episode of "Hannah Montana."

I just don't want you to think that when my daughters gang up one me that I leap into the room and spout off " Now I perceive, they have conjoin'd all three to fashion this false sport, in spite of me" or that while doing laundry, I'll suddenly start wringing my hands and say "Out damn spot, out I say!"

Please, please my Shakespeare is my greatest secret and ""Though this be madness, yet there is method in 't."

The curtain falls. She downs a glass of wine and commences with folding laundry.
In 10 years, she will be competing with 70-year-old divas at the local little theater for role of "The Nurse" in "Romeo in Juliet." She might have to result to violence, but by golly she is going to get the role-- and then all the world will know. She still knows the lines.