See you in Hell, Olaf

Well, I made it. It was winter when I left Toronto, and today is the first day of Spring.  I have been in Stratford for one month and I've gotten the hang of how this town works now. Last night at 11 pm I shuffled out of my condo and threw my garbage on the curb. There was another bag and I shook my head because THEY forgot to use a garbage tag. Tut tut. I do think charging residents $2.55 a tag to dispose of their garbage is monstrous but what do I know about running a small town.

I won't be returning to Toronto until Passover which means I will be wearing my big, maroon, puffy coat and lumberjack boots for another 10 days as the temperatures soar. I've already experienced the sweat trickling down my back while walking home from the Festival at 5:15 because it's above freezing and it is not pleasant. That being said, I am still trying to channel my inner Olivia Pope as I walk the hallways of the Festival Theatre. I have the strut but I do not have the swag; it's Banana Republic on my back and I don't have a Prada bag (yet).

I have finished reading Their Eyes Were Watching God, Krapps Last Tape, and some short stories by Julian Barnes. I'm reading Winner and Losers by Marcus Youssef and James Long to understand how to structure a two-hander since I'm writing one with Nick Green; it's a really enjoyable play. I started reading the introductory essay to Coriolanus and put it down but, I swear, I'll finish the play before it opens on June 22. Andre Sills in a Robert LePage production? It's going to be beyond mind-blowing.

What have I learned in 30 days? I know how to use a toaster oven now but I just don't see the point of them when a toaster does the job faster. I can make a perfect soft boiled egg and peel the shell off in one move. Thank you, Bon Appetit. I miss seeing a couple of plays a week but I love having multiple evenings at home to do as wish. Spring is an opportunity to refresh and reboot and I’ll use the next three months to learn something new (and eat less chocolate chip banana bread, maybe).  But fellow Canadians, don’t be foolish, it’s going to snow again so keep the snow tires on and don’t put away your winter gear. We go through this every year! And you know what? The snow is pretty and the cold never bothered me anyway.

Spilling Tea

I sip green tea in the morning.

I've been in Stratford for one week. Anxious about how the change to my schedule would affect my mood I had been alternately excited and apprehensive about leaving Toronto for three months. I have left my home for that much time before, when I was on tour with various plays, but that was different. I was on the road in a new place every few days. This would be a complete upheaval of my very regimented routine that, while boring, was familiar. 

A year ago when I came up with the idea of taking a break from Toronto I was aggravated with everything. Stagnating, as well. I became a producer by accident and I seemed to have a knack for it. After producing my third indie show I wanted to learn something new. I figured the best place to learn was outside of my comfort zone and in a new place. My routine of gym-coffee-read-waffle over what to do-see a play-go to bed late was tedious.  

I get up early. 

I sit in my lovely place in Stratford and read the plentiful Facebook and Twitter posts about the plays I just 'have to see': Bang Bang; Jerusalem; Rhubarb; Cottagers & Indians; etc….but I can’t ,because I’m too far away to travel there and back in one evening. I’m learning to stop feeling guilty about missing plays because, try as you might, you're going to miss something. Besides, I’m on the Dora jury for the Indie category; I see plenty. 

I’m trying to drink less alcohol. 

I don’t make new year’s resolutions because I feel that quitting is almost a given. I am someone who cooks almost all of my meals, goes the gym regularly, calls her parents every week, and tries to keep her head above water as a writer/producer. I deserve a glass of wine at 5. But, lately I’ve been looking forward to a glass of wine the way normal people look forward to the weekend. I resolved that Stratford would be the impetus to change my routine; no more drinking. Ridiculous. There’s an LCBO across the street from my condo in Stratford. I bought my favourite: Small Gully Mr. Black’s Little Book Shiraz, and some McClelland that was on sale. No regrets. Then I went out for fried chicken at Laotian hotspot, Lauhaus, on Downie Street, since they would be closing for good the next day. It was delicious. 

Food Poisoning Can Change Your Perspective 

There are a lot of thoughts that run through your mind when you’re hunched over on the subway, traveling west on the Bloor line, covered in a thin coating of sweat, nauseas and trying not to poop yourself. One is: this is too nice a coat to have an accident and the other is, I really hope it wasn’t the fried chicken. Three hours later, prostrate and tired from illness, in my pretty condo all I can consume is tea. The next few days all I put in my body is broth, water, plain crackers, and green tea. I glare at the bottle wine, shudder at the idea of the McClelland, and stay away from all things dairy. When I woke up on Tuesday morning the sun was blazing, it was five degrees, and I felt less burdened than I’d been in months. The pressure I have put on myself is lifting and I think I may be freer than ever.