A “Laundry & Bourbon” Hangover

Our one-act show about three women living in Maynard, Texas circa Late ‘60s, opened and closed this past weekend. I played a Baptist gossip named Amy Lee who preys on the private lives of others. From Friday to Sunday Matinee, we gave three performances to small but enthusiastic audiences. Before every show, we painted on our Tammy-Fay faces, put up our big hair, and Vaselined our teeth. I felt just like Whittley from “Different World.” No one would every suspect the vicious tongue behind these pearly whites! After every show, I had a mild but chronic headache. I think it was from my pitchy-shrilly Texan-Baptist accent.

I had the privilege of working with another great cast, a great directing team, and another memorable experience of unleashing my love of thespian culture on the unsuspecting folks of Ocean Springs. I’ve been deathly afraid I wouldn’t be able to shake the accent after the show. It’s jeyust sew mutch fuhhhhhhhn! Already, I’ve caught myself saying lines in passing conversations--- they fit the context so well, it just happen naturally. I almost want to go to a Baptist service now, just to check it out, see if the “Blood of the Lamb” really comes up in small talk.

Another side story: I had to sew my own dress for the show. It was really cool! The process, the pattern… not so much the fabric which was intentionally chosen for its tackiness. I put in a zipper, stitched in darts and made my own button hole! Of course, I have to tell everyone, “You see this? I made this!” There was some cussing, I’ll admit, and there were a few seems ripped (“this hurts me more than it hurts you”), but overall, I think everyone should make a complete outfit at least once, AND on a deadline. ;) Just interpreting the Simplicity pattern instructions was an exercise in foreign language. Simple, my ass. It took me five times of reading the instruction for the sleeves and borrowing the other girl’s dress to see how her mom sewed in the sleeves, before I figured out what “adjusting along the bobbin thread” was supposed to mean. Sometimes, you just have to do it and mess it up, before you know what the hell you’re supposed to do.

I finished on time with my last hem, just a few hours before Opening Night. It makes me that much more appreciative for all the work our Grandmas did just to clothe themselves and their families. And they didn’t have patters to follow! I’d be like, “F&^$% that noise, I’m outsourcing this *&^%*# to Malaysia.”