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Stomach-ache at Suiter House

I’m sitting here wondering if my upset stomach is due to the piece of leftover pizza I had for lunch or to nervousness about tonight’s murder mystery.  It feels more like a pizza upset stomach, quite frankly, but one cannot completely discount pre-performance butterflies.

As more astute readers will have guessed, this is going to be another foolish post.  However, since I often have foolish posts before a theatrical performance (oh, OK, and the rest of the time too), I think I will be forgiven. And if not, oh well, I will just have to live with the disapproval.

The murder mystery, in case you didn’t read about it in a previous blog post, is Secrets at Suiter House, to benefit the Herkimer County Historical Society.  I think it is one of my better scripts, but perhaps I flatter myself.  I have an excellent cast assembled.  I know they will do a marvelous job.  I dare to include myself in that confidence.  Accuse me of tooting my own horn if you like, but I maintain that there are worse things than having an ego the size of Manhattan, especially for an actor.

Is my ego the size of Manhattan?  I’m sure these things are difficult to measure.  I certainly have ego enough to set my foolish words afloat into the blogosphere (there’s a silly word) and trust some people will be entertained by them.  I have ego enough to write a murder mystery and present it to a room full of people, trusting that they will be entertained.

And yet I sit here with my stomach roiling, saying to myself, “What the hell am I thinking?”  I guess a gigantic ego does not always translate into a plethora of self-confidence.  Never mind.  Overconfidence is a dangerous thing, and sometimes nerves are a good sign.  So I say, break a leg, me.

Maybe I’ll try the effects of some ginger tea on my stomach.

 

Toot My Horn Tuesday

So there I was on Facebook, stalling starting my blog post, because I am feeling tired and stupid, and I discovered that three years ago today, I posted the following:

I don’t always have to kill two birds with one stone.  I have plenty of stones, although I rarely throw them on account of living in a glass house.

I was rather pleased with that.  It was not my favorite thing I’ve ever said.  My favorite thing I’ve ever said is, “I said that?  I’m witty.”  Reflecting on this, I shared my post from three years ago, adding as a comment the remark about being witty.

It is sad but true (and I’m really not sad about it) that I like my own writing.  Sometimes I come across something I wrote a long time ago, and I read it and say, “Hey, this is pretty good.  Why didn’t I finish this one?”  I don’t always think I’m wonderful, of course.  Sometimes I think, “Well, that’s an embarrassing cliche”  or “That’s pretty self-indulgent” or even “What the hell was I thinking?”  But a lot of the time it’s more like, “Hey, that’s OK.”

What does that make this, Big Fat Ego Tuesday?  Blow My Own Horn Tuesday?  No, no Toot My Horn Tuesday.  That has a little bit of alliteration.  You know much I love alliteration.  At any rate, it makes a break from whining about how I just can’t write a decent blog post today.  I hope to see you on Wednesday, when I hope not to Wuss Out.