Blah

Blah blah blah.

Life is blah, sometimes.

And full of blah blah blah.

Just. Sayin'.

Also

This. Is. Great.

I share:

Inside

You know, the doctor cleared me of the brain tumor rumor -- telling me that my head was as normal as anyone else's (for whatever small consolation that is.

But for the past week or more, I've had that blistering headache back -- some respite here and there, but mostly unending -- and that strange phantom smell.

Tumor or not, something is going on, and I suppose I need to follow-up with the doctor more.

It scares me a little. Plus, it's expensive.

Ruminations

A friend -- well, not so much friend as blogger-whom-I-greatly-admire -- recently posted a comment about aging, and assessing the fore and aft of one's life. Her son recently asked her "How's your life working out for you, Mom?"

God, what a question.

How is my life working out for me?

Huh.

I need to ponder that one a while. There are many many things which, to outsiders, would appear gifts. There are accomplishments and fun and art and music and friends.

So why is so much of that shadowed and foggy, hidden behind a gray landscape of burnt castles and twisted pathways leading, all of them, to cliffs?

My Theatre, Then and Now

I put together a video with clips from some of our past shows at our theatre...along with a very rough rendering of the barn project plans:



We've shown this several times already -- Chamber of Commerce, The Rotary, other movers and shakers in the area.

Project

So. Last year, when I was out of work, I was driving by an abandoned movie theater, and it started to piss me off. Here I am with my theatre group desperately seeking a new venue, and there's a perfectly fine unused building with seats and box office and marquee already there.

So I called the mayor.

Asked him what would be involved, and what possible support could we expect from the city to secure the theater?

He basically told me that the owner is adamant that he will not sell it, and will not lease it for less than prime dollars (even though, by then, it had already sat there vacant for almost a year, earning the guy zero dollars). The mayor was kind but blunt -- forget it.

But he also said that I should call a woman named Carol. She has a barn she has always wanted to convert to a theatre.

Well. I knew from reputation that this woman was "wacky," a free-spirited creature who believes in angels and souls and a potpourri of new-age rot in which I had less than zero interest. I am always, at best, uncomfortable around such people, and I certainly didn't want to engage in a project like this with her.

Had I been working at the time, I would have chalked it up and written it off and never called.

But the next day, I'm sitting at home, having just finished my job search of the day, and I figured "what the hell?" So I called her, introduced myself, and we agreed to meet.

This is just another example of how being out of work was very much a blessing buried in the burden, because I'm quite certain I'd not have bothered to call her if I'd been busily employed.

She's wonderful. She's kind and bright and not in the least "wacky." Did I mention she's wonderful?

...and we are doing it. We are in the process of launching a huge project -- The Strongsville Center for the Performing Arts....this in the worst economy in 80 years. Our goals are high and difficult and worth it, and I believe in them. And in us.

We have a small team -- just four of us -- along with a larger committee that is helping. We're going to do it. We are.

I can't help smiling at the thought that we are building something that will matter to an entire region -- both economically and artistically -- and that it will be there 100 years from now.

And I will have been a part of it. In fact, I also smile at the fact that I actually get to design my own theatre. How cool is that? I'm the lead on the design committee, and the design looks really great (although we're still iterating through it)....but designing my own theatre? Seriously? Maybe this is what I was born to do....'cause in a way, all the things I've done in my career (project management, fiscally responsible budget control, managing every aspect of a theatrical season (from play-writing to play selection to direction to performance to technical design and direction (lights, set, and sound)) have prepared me for this.

I should re-state some of the above -- by no means is it me that is doing this -- it's US . The group of four are working hard and in harmony.

Together, we are going to pull this off. This impossible dream.

Feel

I'm posting this for no reason other than it's true:

I'm lonely today. Feeling very very alone and defenseless and unloved and unliked.

Alone.

This will pass -- by tomorrow probably, by the weekend certainly -- but right now, today.....blue is me.

Teds Voice

I have this sporadic little, very occasionally active voice-over career. Most of what I have done is corporate work -- narrating very boring little powerpoint presentations, phone system menus, that sort of thing....

Anyway, I decided it was time to ramp things up and get a new agent, and I sent my demo to the biggest voice-over agency in the area (and one of the most influential voice-over agencies anywhere). I got a contact immediately from them, and they asked me to audition for them. This is big.

I made my audition, and they want to meet me next week.

Now, none of this means I'll actually get a contract from them, but if I do, that will be a huge boost to my career. It would be so amazing and cool to have some other career door open -- especially now, when I'm feeling particularly ambivalent about the career I'm in....

Wheels

So.

I've been wanting a convertible for a long time, and what with the piece of junk I was driving careening every closer to the dead-car cliff, I finally decided it was time.

This is the car I bought:



This is on the dealer's lot, of course...I bought it the same night I drove it. It was just...I dunno. The right time, the right car, the right mid-life crisis....

Actually, a lot of people have asked or commented about it being a mid-life crisis purchase, but it's really not. I'm not all that crisisified; and I'm a mite past mid-life anyway. It's really simply more a case that at this point in my life, I can go ahead and get a 2-seater. I'm not driving the kids around any more, I rarely have any passengers at all...and I just deserve (or least tell myself that I do) a fun car to drive.

So. Fun it is!

And I look good in it. Those of you that actually have seen me in it, please don't dispell my illusions about that...

Gettin' A Head

So.

I mentioned on Friday that I had this possible brain tumor....

It's strange. For years, I've had headaches. Sometimes sort of like a bruise, sometimes like a massive fault line, about ready to drop Tedifornia into the ocean. Just something I had to live with. I've seen doctors about it, and they tut-tutted that it's just a migraine. Just. a. migraine. Often -- but not always -- medication helps, so I didn't worry too too much about it.

Now, for the past few years, I've been smelling this odd smell. Like the smell of burning oil -- sort of organic and oily and icky. The car I was driving -- actually, the last two cars I drove -- were oil burners, and I pretty much chalked it up to that. You know how some kinds of oily smells stick with you, even when you're not around them? I figured it was like that.

Except that I got new wheels (ask me about those sometime!), and the new car doesn't burn oil....but the smell persisted. Odd.

So, I googled one night -- didn't know where to start, so I googled "why do I smell something that isn't there?" I found a medical forum, found that the phenomenon is not unheard of (it's called phantom smell). Googling "phantom smell" found me many forums, and there I learned that phantom smell can be caused by epilepsy (not me) or mental illness (maybe me?) or sinus infection (but not lasting for years). Also on the list -- especially when combined with headaches -- is brain tumor.

Hard words to read. Brain. Tumor. Something growing in the center of what makes me me? Seriously?

So, I set up time with Dr. de Sade, and he said "Yeah, brain tumor is on the list of what can cause that, for sure." He was concerned -- he said he wanted to set up an MRI immediately to check for a tumor.

I was actually pretty convinced it wasn't the case -- but no way to be sure without checking. I wasn't too too freaked out....still, though, it was in my head (no pun intended) constantly.

I didn't really get weirded out about it until the day of -- sitting in the waiting room, waiting to be called in to have my head examined. I felt adrenaline start to build then, electric skin, shallow breathing, all of it.

Anyway. Long story short (if that's even possible at this point): no tumor. No explanation for the headaches and phantom smell (which, by the way, I am smelling right now even as I type this)...but trust me, it's a pretty large-scale relief when you find that you aren't, you know, dying.

Of course, ultimately, we're all dying by degrees anyway, but that's another philosophical cogitation for another day.

The doctor still wants to follow up to look for cancerous polyps in my sinuses, but somehow that just seems infinitely less threatening than being eaten from the inside out, doesn't it?