Tuesday, March 22, 2011

Meet My Fake Husband

Friends, meet my fake husband, Doc B. Hubby:

Ok because I'm a crazy person and alone here in San Francisco and bored, I googled my fake husband the marine biologist. And I have to say, this picture from his professional web page (which I have absolutely no permission to reprint but since I am not revealing his identity or linking to him in any way shape or form will hopefully not offend him on the off chance one of his marine biologist friends is googling cool pics of sea lion families and comes across my page and emails him to say "dude, that righteous picture of you holding the shark is on some girl's blog") is awesome.

Now as it turns out, my fake husband and real husband have quite a few things in common. My real husband also has khaki shorts. And he is also a Red Sox fan. He too, likes to fish. Though more often than not we eat the fish he catches, and my guess is that Doc B. Hubby studied, but did not eat this fish. Then again who knows. I also have asserted it was a shark and really, I have no idea what kind of fish it is, other than a darned big one.

Here is the pic from my actual husband's professional web page.

I'm gonna be honest here. Not as awesome.

However in Doc D. Hubby's defense I can offer this photo:

Or this one (I have no idea who that woman is with him):

Or even this one:

But really, I think the only thing I can do is to offer a picture of my own to my fake husband. Doc B. Hubby, you can post this picture on your website at any time, without asking. It's yours.
Your Fake Wife

My Postcard to the Bean

Hello Sweet Bean,
I wanted to tell you a little more about the play I'm in. It's called "The Three Sisters." I play the oldest sister, Olga. She is a school teacher and is good and kind. But she gets sad because she has headaches and she isn't a Mama. The middle sister is called Masha. She wears black clothes all the time and is moody and likes to read. The youngest sister is Irina. She is very beautiful and very clever and has lots of dreams in her heart. And there is a brother in the family called Andrei. He is an artist and plays the violin and carves wood but he is scared of lots of things. That's my pretend family. I love you oodles, Mama

Thursday, March 17, 2011

Three of a Kind

I miss my little family.

That was all I was going to write but want to hear a funny story? So I was skyping with the Bean and Doc Hubby. And the Bean was a little sad so I wanted to send her the photos I took today of the sea lions at Pier 39. So I emailed this pic really quickly to Doc Hubby's work address and I thought I'd also send it to his gmail address just in case that one was working faster. So I sent the photos to "Doc.Hubby@gmail.com," but as it turned out, they came instantaneously to the work address and we all enjoyed them. Technology, as aforementioned, is a brilliant thing.

A few hours later I get this email that says:
"Hi Wendy, Wrong Doc Hubby. Cool pictures, though.

So what's hilarious about this is several things. First of all, my Doc Hubby signs his name "-Doc" just like that with no "from" or "love" or "best" or "fondly." Just a kind of a pretentious dash in front of his name. So at first I was totally confused because I thought this email was actually from my husband and I didn't know what he meant by wrong "Doc Hubby."

Second thing that's funny, this Doc Hubby is "Doc B. Hubby" and my husband is "Doc D. Hubby." Doc B. Hubby's email is "Doc.Hubby@gmail" and my Doc D. Hubby is "Hubby.Doc@gmail". Clearly Doc B. Hubby got the name first and my guy had to improvise And that's just amusing to me. Also B and D rhyme and that's weird.

And finally, and perhaps my very favorite part of this whole mix up, is that Doc B. Hubby took the time to write back to me and tell me I had the wrong guy, and also add "Cool pictures, though." Because, as it turns out, Doc B. Hubby is employed by the University of Maine School of Marine Sciences. How awesome is it that his fake wife actually sent him pictures of Sea Lions! It's like I'm psychic.

Tuesday, March 15, 2011

The Flame Fold

One of my favorite things about rehearsing a new play is discovering what skills your character has that you don't have. When I played a magician's assistant, we had a magic consultant who came in and taught us all various sleight of hand moves. I know a great trick from that show involving a glass, a napkin and a quarter. Take me out to dinner sometime. I'll amaze you. I've learned how to carry a shotgun, how to throw a punch, how to smoke a cigar (well I kind of faked that--it was friggin' nasty), how to jump rope in 19th century clothing, how to remove 19th century clothing from someone and put it back on them very very quickly, and every single move of a seven minute sequence from a classic silent film starring Lillian Gish called "The Wind."

For this show? Napkin folding. I decided my character is good at folding cloth napkins into pretty shapes. So over the course of the last two days I have learned how to make a bird (2 different ways), a fleur de lis, a lily and a flame. The birds were rejected but I am hoping our director green lights the flame, which I think looks like a flower.

Here's the video that taught me how to do it.
How to Make a Flame Fold in a Napkin | eHow.com

And here's my work of napkin art.

Saturday, March 12, 2011

Straight to the Ten

This is the first time I have worked out of town since 2007. The first time I have worked far away from home since...2006 I think. The farthest away from home I have ever worked, as a matter of fact. And the first time I have worked near a Trader Joe's. Dark Chocolate Salted Almonds...mmmmmm.....

The world has changed significantly since 2006. Doc Hubby has a fancy-schmancy new iPhone and with it he can send me pictures every two seconds so I can watch the Bean do cute things almost non-stop. And we can skype...using this same fancy-schmancy phone. I suppose if I had a fancy-schmancy phone we could skype anywhere any time without being tied to a computer at all.

Maybe it's just a whole lot of bells and whistles. Maybe. But I played Texas Hold 'Em with my whole family back in the Burg tonight. They set me up on the table like I was Max Headroom, and dealt me in...and I won money! Sure I couldn't eat the snacks, but I really did feel like I was there. In fact, I believe I won more hands than I ordinarily do. My brother started blatting about how it was actually an advantage to me because I wasn't there to face the ridicule in person when I lost a hand. The percentage of hands I won head-to-head against him was much higher than usual. Heh. He didn't like that. Of course I have been practicing playing poker a lot on my un-fancy-schmancy phone.

It's easy to take for granted, but we have entered the age of the Jetsons. Without the big skirts. And our monitors fit in our backpacks. I know this is nothing new, but it's kind of incredible the difference that it makes in my life. I played poker. With my family. Three thousand miles away. Via my husband's phone. They had a family poker night. And I wasn't left out.

I am grateful for this technology. I can see my Bean's face and hear her voice. At the same time. It definitely makes this whole long distance thing easier. So, Steve Jobs, thank you. I may be your bitch. But I am grateful.

p.s. All the pictures on this post were taken with my very un-schmancy phone. It's pretty here.

Wednesday, March 9, 2011

What is Fun About All of This

So here is what is fun about all of this so far:
  • Most of the cast went out for dinner last night. And I had almost forgotten the kind of wonderful instant family you become when you work out of town. People you have known for two or three days are suddenly your pretend family, and sort of by default, your real family. You look out for each other. You share food. The men can be such gentlemen. That's nice.
  • Skype! Holy cow how technology has changed since I did this last. You can just turn on Skype, make dinner, hang out, watch TV, and kind of feel like you're in the same room. Without the pressure the phone gives you of keeping having to talk. Doc Hubby actually walked me around the apartment. It was a balm to my soul.
  • Your only responsibilities when you work out of town are: eating, working out, studying the play, and rehearsing. When you are staying in a postage stamp of an apartment there's not much else to do.
  • You get to watch whatever you want on TV.
  • You get to eat whatever you want. I had two salads yesterday. I had two cups of coffee today. I am convinced I will get healthy while I'm here.
  • My mange is practically gone. I think it must be the air. Divine.
  • Exploring.
What isn't fun? Calling your wee one and hearing her say "I miss you Mama" and then get weepy. Mine did this just this morning. And then apparently went and looked forlornly out of the window.

I'm not sure what's worse, having her miss me horridly and start to cry, or knowing that in a week or two, she will be used to me being gone.

Monday, March 7, 2011

We Are Gypsies

Most actors work away from home. We get the odd job where we live, but far more often we are called upon to leave our homes, and our loved ones, and our furry friends, and travel somewhere else to do a show. More often than not we are unemployed at home and employed on the road.

When you are single...this is awesome. So I have been told. When you are married it stings like a ground wasp, but it's kind of fun exploring a new area when your spouse comes to visit. Trying new restaurants. Driving around on the day off. I actually quite liked the feeling of showing my new surroundings to Doc Hubby. My little apartment and my newfound coffee shops and grocery stores. When I work out of town, everything here is mine. My accomplishments. My friends. My bravery to start fresh on my own and dare to do this thing. And everyone knows what a little absence can do to the heart....

But when you are a parent...work out of town is...I don't know yet. For the first time since the Bean was born I have taken a job out of town. And not just a quick hop on a plane or train or even the car. Totally across the country. To a different time zone. The farthest I have ever traveled from home to work. For the longest I have ever been gone (well, it's tied with another job). 11 weeks away from home. And away from my Bean. AM I INSANE???!!!!???!!! I already miss her so much I could eat my arm.

She and Doc Hubby will come to visit for two weeks in the middle. FIVE weeks from now.

I AM TOTALLY INSANE! Commence gnawing.

I already miss the squiggly weight of her on my lap. My mother said that after dinner tonight Bean had a cupcake. As per usual, Bean licked all the icing off her cupcake. Then she set the cake down. But then, Mom said, she stared at the cupcake, completely bereft, as if to say "where did all my icing go?" And then her eyes welled up and she said "I want my Mama."

A little girl, not much bigger than Bean, projectile puked on the plane today. (Note to Doc Hubby, pack wipes and an extra change of clothes in the carry on). I was far enough away to only see the flurry of cleaning from a distance and catch a delayed whiff. We took Bean on her first plane ride about two weeks ago. I am delighted to say she did not puke. Hoping desperately she has inherited Doc Hubby's hearty New England constitution in that regard. I watched that clean up with a teeny bit of schadenfreude I will confess.

So far, not having to clean up puke on a plane is the only good part of leaving a child behind to go and do a play. So far, when you are a parent, work away from home is horrible. I will check back in when I have found a few good coffee shops.

I miss you Bean.