Dorabella, week 3.

Finally , after 3 weeks, I am stabilized . Gym an hour a day, social circle, daily rehearsal routine. Three whole weeks and I can almost feel welcome back to my self again.
At 3 weeks, we already blocked and staged and ran the entire opera 3.5 times, we have had at least 5 dinner parties and B.B.Q's, 20 different cafe's and bars, and about 5- 10 different restaurant meals with the cast. That's what one does here. what ELSE. Luckily, we are one nice bunch of people. a few gay guys and us women who love them. All with a healthy sense of humor, and an appetite for life and its joy.
I am starting to find a new meaning to my Dorabella; Before I arrived here I decided that I must search and find the realism in her. I just can not stand (anymore) having to play her as overly comic and grotesque. (What's easy to do, too).
I think I am reintroducing ourselves and I'm excited to see what will become of the encounter. We still have three weeks till we open. (sheesh...). I will feel quite accomplished if I succeed to form her into a credible human being, and not the stupid overly dramatized cow most people think she must be.

I am getting waves of happiness and depression
If you are surrounded by people who have more than you have of the very same thing you wish to have , do you get depressed, or inspired?
I get both.
I also have been fighting with my weight again. This is an unresolved eternal battle for me; The fat kid in kindergarten, the fat girl in school, the chubby one later. 85 kilos (what is it , like 185 pounds or something?) got quite a few of them lost on a bloody battle field, which will always remain that: a battle field.
You don't get skinny and become a skinny person. You drop weight, you might even get skinny one day , but you never *become* it.
Here, where lunch AND dinner are both social events, it means that food and drink are part of a long interaction with the only people around who are creating a home for me. And when food and drink are becoming not a necessity anymore but a habit; well, that's where things start to go wrong.
I immediately joined the gym. I am no fool. I know what to expect when there's more energy intake than use.
But even with the gym, things are not easy. It's the state of mind that I need to adopt, and I just find so hard to do; I feel like I most certainly deserve that glass of wine with a nice meal.( Especially when they talk about all their MET booking up to 2012). cheers.

Self help

Before the weekend, my Ferrando got released to do a concert with MUTI and when he was back, my Guglielmo flew away to jump in for a recording with Villazon and Netrebko. Oh, exciting operatic life!
Me, I just went to "The city" (that would be London,around here) to visit my friend Sal. we sat on one of these boats turned pubs from 1-7, later we visted some party, and then went to sleep.
I still felt a bit depressed, and well, the thing with "Positive thinking" is that it expires like old milk.
At the end of a Londonian weekend, which brought back memories and nostalgia (and; the same lame feeling one gets while revisiting one's high school after 30 years of getting old fat and bitter), I was sitting on the train back, and it occurred to me, that this would be the right time to put "The secret" (lol) into gear.
I pulled out a pack of sticky notes I carry in my purse,( don't ask me why, I really don't know) and on each 4x4 little pink page, I wrote an appreciation note. (" Thank you for bringing me to this wonderful place". "Thank you for helping me to excel" etc, etc.).
After writing about 6 or 7 of those, I started to feel extremely cheery.
At the end of the long ride (on the weekends, due to rail construction, one must take the bus half way, which makes it longer), I actually noticed the wonderful green hills, colorful flowers , the sunshine and all the smiley people around me.
I got back home as happy and as hopeful as I can possibly be.
My darlings: "The Secret" is a cheap exercise in self- hypnosis!
And it (kind of ) works.

Opera Europa

Ah! The gorgeousness of this crazy profession, and the gorgeousness of being in Europe!; Here is my cast:
1 Slovak, 1 French, 1 Italian, 1 German, one Spanish, and me. The Slovak is speaking fluently with the Frenchman in French, Italian with the Italiano, German with the Frau, and English with me. (Heyyy that's not fair! English's my *second* language!)
The Spaniard's speaking fluently (and with not any detected accent!) German Italian (Spanish) French and English. The rest are speaking (non stop, mind you) almost fluently with whichever language is called for.
At the end of our first rehearsal day, we are absolutely, linguistically confused. (The slovak is speaking French with the German who's spanishing with the Italian who's replying in Engilsh to the French who just can't understand why on earth is the English instead of Italian) .

Getting ready

My friend Monique came up with this brilliant idea for packing:
She dedicates one (bigger) suitcase to clothes, and the other one, to things. I never thought about it, but testing it out, it reveals it self like a small miracle I am witnessing for the very first time!
All my boots, shoes, pants jackets and dresses here. All my scores, cosmetics, purses, STUFF, there. How did I not think about this before????
My friends; I am ready to travel. I have accomplished all my duties here; I finished with the taxes, paid all the bills, I entertained all my friends and visitors, I cleaned the house. It is time.
What is happening to me this week? I am washed with constant waves of anxiety and excitement; I am restless, hyper- active, and scattered; You can find me in a similar state at "Six Flags" usually: running as fast as I can to stand in line for the newest roller coaster.

Summer time

I got into my yearly shock of being alone again and the beginning of another long period away and all the negotiations we need to make, to make it livable and lovable.
While my husband has left on his journeys and I am about to begin mine, I am left in this big empty apartment with a couple of empty suitcases staring at me, awaiting their existence.
Now I need to fill them up with my life and pretend it is all.
Three and a half months, starting with the rainy cold and loneliness of the English country and ending with an unairconditioned heat and uncontrolled feelings that if I don't return home soon, I would drop off that (smoke and) mirror like a fly exhaling its last breath. And my 1.5 suitcases need to provide me with: home, love, friendship and understanding, until I find it elsewhere.

We shared meals and drinks , laughs and stories over 2 long and exciting months; We drove to the movies together, cooked for each other, celebrated our opening night, and sang 14 shows together. Three days ago he was killed in a car accident. Next to his Skype name on my Skype buddy list, there is still a little message he typed in after returning from a gig : "home sweet home".
This I know and remember : Life is a Russian roulette. Let us thrive while getting spared the inevitable bullet.