I feel really lucky. It’s so satisfying a thing to get what you wanted. How much lovelier and rich my life and memories are to cherish Adelaide and my Guys & Dolls, rather than regret the dream never realized.
The dream not realized isn’t the end of the world, but I feel so lucky to have this one.
I’m happy with my performance. “Perfect is the enemy of good,” my mother repeated often to her dissatisfied daughter, and I’m able at last (this time) to manage my wish for more than I delivered. I’m proud of my Adelaide, really proud.
I made good choices for her, far deeper than just the fun stuff, which I played to damn-near-perfection. I’m not ashamed to be the best thing to hit the community stage every now and then. Our show was good.
I was good. A well-known producer in our area was pretty taken with me. It was quite a compliment. I don’t know how secure my retirement is, but I know my foot hurts.
The second joint to require a cortisone injection bothers me still, daily, and I confess I anticipated with some anxiety the possibility that I wasn’t really able to dance a show like this. To be honest, I’m surprised it didn’t hit before closing weekend. I do not know how I got through that. It’s amazing how you don’t feel pain onstage.
I guess that’s why we do it. I certainly did this time.
I think the angels carried me through it, a la “Footsteps.” Angels and painkillers.
Well, I can’t walk today, but I don’t care! I’m so pleased and grateful, and sad that it’s over. I cried yesterday! I didn’t expect it to hit so fast.
What a gift. I’m so grateful. I’m so BLESSED!
Check out my wardrobe! I can’t even!
Guys & Dolls saved my life. I’m just SO GRATEFUL I was blessed to be a part of this cast, this crew, this Guys & Dolls. It goes deeper than finally playing my dream role. Our show healed me in ways no one will ever really know, maybe not even me. That was, honestly, one of the best things that ever happened to me.