The only good thing about your best friend living in New Zealand is you start getting birthday greetings the day before your birthday! I am gearing up for my birthday/Fibonacci day; have already scheduled a florist pick-up (it's for Thanksgiving, but I'll get a free rose 'cause it's my birthday). Don't know what else the day will bring tomorrow but I'm sure looking forward to it!

I was honored to be asked to act in this year's Northampton 24-Hour Theater Project. Friday night I went to the “pull,” where the playwrights learned how many characters their play would have, and the general characteristics of the actors who'd be performing, and what the “trigger line” would be (that's the line that each play had to have in common).

My best-case scenario was a three-person play, mostly because the dynamic is ripe for theater. And then I won the jackpot — my super-talented friend Meryl drew a three-person play, and then drew me. Totally awesome. I booked over to a family dinner at Friendly's for Lex's birthday with a very broad smile on my face.

I'd like to say I got a bunch of sleep on Friday night and actually, I probably did, because the dream I had was long and involved.

Monstro dropped me and my bags (one of uke and uke music, another of basic-black costume pieces) off at the rehearsal site at 8:20. I found Meryl in-conference with Tim, the director, and Steve, the stage manager for her play. I went across the room, got a bagel and some coffee, and then sauntered back. Meryl handed me a script.

“Whatever you've written, I'm sure it's better than the play I dreamt you wrote,” I told Meryl. She laughed.

I dug into the script. “You're Maggie,” Meryl said.

Her play was called “The Cure” and I laughed aloud many times during the read-through. My character (Maggie) is trying to convince her brother (Matt) to donate part of his liver to to their desperately ill father. Problem is, 18 months previous to the play's action, Matt's dad sent Matt away to “People Can Grow,” a de-gay-ification program run out of Doris's apartment.

(Meryl is the founder of our town's Playwright Lab. A fellow founding member, Toby, was also writing for the project, and upon learning that Meryl was writing for me, put in a request: “Please make Lynn sing.” So, I had a bit of a song on the first page, and a bit more on page four.)

It's surprising how much you can get done on a play in not many hours. We had our tech rehearsal at 1:00, and then our stage manager scrambled around for a better sofa for us to use (the one the props people found was way too big). Much of the time before that was spent blocking our action and the stage fight between Doris and Maggie — the end of that fight finds Doris atop Maggie on the aforementioned sofa.

(A gentleman in my Playwrights' Lab sent me an email this morning: “The image of you and 'Doris' on the couch is indelible.”)

All three of us carried scripts but I mostly didn't need mine, which was a great personal accomplishment. It was the #1 thing I'd been warned about, so it was a comfort to be mostly off-book but still have it for reference when needed.

Our show was second in a lineup of six. We had a full-house for the 7:00 show and a mostly full house for the second show at 9 p.m. The audience found us hilarious and we got big laughs. My mom came to the first one and now she can cross off “watch daughter proposition another woman for oral sex on stage in front of 120 people” from her bucket list. Hey, I was trying to save my father's life. A gal's gotta do what a gal's gotta do…

So, yeah, making art for a full day and being around actors and writers and directors made for my best Saturday in recent memory. This morning my quadriceps were burning — my character spent a lot of time getting up off the floor after being down on one knee; I must have done the equivalent of 400 squats in 12 hours — and I feel as though I've been beat up a bit, which I was, but applause is a tremendously therapeutic balm and the warmth of our generous audience will have me smiling for days. Brava!

Lex goes to a preschool within an elementary school. Basically, we pay for it, but then the kids get to use all the resources the elementary school has to offer: music room, art room, library, etc. It's a sweet setup. Also, the teachers are amazing, and Lex LOVES school (good thing, he's there everyday).

Yesterday morning was an all-school assembly. It was hosted by the preschoolers, and they were going to sing a couple of songs, so Monstro, BK, and I piled in the car to attend. We sat in the back and watched as Lex's class filed into the auditorium/theater/cafeteria.

Lex sometimes has problems with staying in line; frequently, he takes cuts in front of the line leader so he can be first on the yellow swing. So I was a little concerned when I saw him in the middle of the line getting up to the stage, but then front-and-center ahead of everyone once they were all settled.

Once the music started, though, I realized that was probably arranged by design. Lex knew every word to every song, and every hand motion, and even did the cutest cha-cha-cha I've ever seen. He was also right in front of the standing mike so we heard every word loud and clear. Basically, there might as well have been no other children on the stage. He was captivating. The sixth-grade girls sitting on the floor in front of us were charmed by him.

“When the piano goes 'BOM BOM,' that's when you bow,” Lex had told me while brushing his teeth that morning. He had that down pat, too.

When their songs were over, I waved to him. He waved back, smiling. The sixth-grade girls thought he was waving to them, so 10 of them waved at him. It was like he was a teeny tiny rock star.

It's amazing how he's growing up into his own person. Today is his birthday. He's five. I took BK and my ukulele to his classroom and sang a bunch of kiddie favorites (plus my “show-off” song, You are the Sunshine of my Life). He sang every word to all of those, too. And BK joined in with “Happy Birthday to You.” Oh, how I love my boys.

The 24-Hour Theater Project is happening this Saturday. For those of you who don't follow my blog as obsessively as, say, I do, this is a marathon day where actors rehearse from 9 a.m. until showtime at 7:00 that same night. The playwrights write all night Friday. Hence, it's a 24-hour cycle of writing/rehearsing/staging/show. I'm trying to stay cool about it but damn, this is a big deal for me. First off, they asked me to act; I didn't have to audition. Secondly, it's the weekend before my birthday. Thirdly, it's a whole entire day and evening of doing nothing but making art. No kids, no caregiving, just delving into a brand-new play.

The six playwrights choose actors and number of characters at random on Friday night. It's a quick little party I intend to attend, even though it coincides with Lex's fifth birthday. That's OK, I'll make it work. It will be good to know who will be writing my play (I'm familiar with three of the playwrights and friends with two of them) and how many other actors will be in “my” show. 🙂

A friend will take my mom to the 7:00 show and then Monstro and a few other friends will be there for the 9:00 one. I have a babysitter all set for that evening and a friend from church will take Lex to our church's family fest that afternoon (which will help take some of the caregiving strain off of Monstro).

I had to submit a questionnaire for the playwrights; in it, I told them “on stage, I am fearless.” I really really hope they put me through my paces. Until then, I hope I stay healthy (Mom has a cold) and manage to get some sleep on Friday night!

Of the two women who helped me deliver my sons, one now works for Planned Parenthood and the other appears in an advertisement for Permanent Birth Control.

I had pretty high hopes for today, what with being able to tell my mom that the Giants won the World Series, and then Lex spotted a cardinal outside our window (hi Grandma!), but then it just turned out to be another crappy day in New England. Better luck tomorrow; oh wait, what, we'll have full election results?

Nevermind.