Wardrobe Malfunction

Two nights down, three to go!

And I have only forgotten my words three times (luckily not too drastically, and have managed to wing my way through each night regardless....)

Things are going well enough for me to retract my resolve not to invite anyone to see the play, and to ask my husband and mother if they will please come along after all. I also casually mention it to two female members of my Support Group; both of whom accept with frightening alacrity.

Now I have a party of four people coming to see the play tomorrow evening, and for the first time I feel a teensy bit nervous.....

It's been very strange being back on stage after more than 2 decades away from it. But its amazing how relaxed I feel in front of an audience. Which makes it all the more nonsensical that I should experience such chronic anxiety walking into a meeting of work colleagues. Clearly, something irrational is operating where the latter is concerned, and I am going to have to work out exactly what it is.

I am loving the personalities of my fellow actors and technical crew. They are the most charming, competent, talented bunch of people I have worked with in years. For the past two nights I have been enjoying long chats with Kelly - a delightful woman in her early 30's, who has a sharp wit and sensational legs. She is the kind of woman with whom I feel an instant affinity. I hope we are going to stay in touch.

Kelly and I are "older" than many of the other female participants, most of whom appear to be in their early 20's. These girls are amazingly sassy and pert; and no topic is deemed unsuitable for discussion; even in front of the gentlemen players.

To wit Charlie, complaining about her costume:
"It's too short," she says, looking at herself critically in the mirror. "I mean - you can see my vajay".

"Your.....?"

"My vajay," she repeats, thoughtfully. Then seeing my blank expression "MY VAGINA".

I flinch nervously, and glance around to check none of the boys are in earshot. Charlie laughs.

"No really, Katharine. You have to lighten up".

"I am perfectly - um...light" I inform her, endeavouring to sound casual. "But can't you just call it a fanny....?"

The girls stride around the shared dressing room in their undies, while I hide behind a handily placed flat in case one of the male actors catches sight of me during my quick costume change.

It's great being back in the world of theatre.
But the times are very different from the ones I remember....