Wednesday, June 05, 2013

Nooooo
I can't believe it. It's June, even though it feels like autumn. I had a cold all weekend, and then I went to teach at the gym on Monday. I noticed I was kind of dragging through the workout and now I have the flu. Full on fever, body aches, bag of tissues -- a mess. I missed last night's rehearsal, even though Giacomo wanted me to come anyway. Tonight I have to teach and go to rehearsal and I don't want to miss T's Lady Macbeth performance at her school either. I am praying that she doesn't catch this and have to miss out on her show, her last day of school, or her pizza party that she organized for the entire class at a pizzeria run by the husband of a bidella on Friday night. (A bidella is a cross between a secretary, a janitor, and a guard). We got the flu shot, but that was ages ago. I am sure that last night was the only rehearsal where they actually got things done and changed everything and decided on some bizarre costume that I know nothing about. I also don't know how not to cough through everything which could ruin the show. As far as I know there is no way to get a substitute teacher at the fancy gym unless you get run over by a truck.

I am so impressed by T lately. She has to make all these final projects for her classes. She has done these really cool power point presentations with photos and graphics on the crash of 1929, a report on realism and the precisionist movement, and a presentation on continental formation. AND they are in Italian. It's Italian with a Brooklyn accent, but still they're in Italian. Three years ago she didn't speak a word and now she is Lady Macbeth. In Italian. Her last day of school is tomorrow and then she has to prepare for this month's oral and written and national exams called the Invalsi. And in September she will be in High School. That's just crazy.

The only thing getting me through this period is the thought that we are going to go to London in August and So You Think You Can Dance. Although, watching the Bachelorette is paramount to eating marijuana brownies for me. Don't worry, I didn't inhale. So there's that.

It would be so nice if someone, anyone, would explain to me what the Fruit Party on Saturday is all about. They just keep saying you'll see and it's very big in an ominous way. Some local television star is going to present. Present what? I have no idea. I am supposed to work and help out. Doing what? I have no idea. If they do throw me in a pool, I will probably end up with walking pneumonia. Ever since I cursed out Ricky, people are treating me like I have an English only version of Tourette syndrome so maybe they will be too afraid. Also I look like this:

Sleep? Who needs sleep?!
Marina the PR person at the fancy gym who told me only a month ago that as far as she knows people like me and to try to be patient just dedicated a little video of encouragement on FB to those of us in the show. She named virtually everybody except for me. I am the Italian Charlie Brown of the fancy gym. It is going to be a rough night.

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