Final thoughts on closing weekend . . .

Yup; I was just this pitiful over the weekend. The cold that my sister contracted last week she managed to pass along just in time for final weekend at faire, and I haven't quite worked out how to thank her yet. There will be pain involved, I'm sure. Truly, I was a drippy, nose-blowing, coughing, sore-throated mess, so much so that I can't remember much of anything I did Saturday or Sunday, and it forced me to stay home Monday, sleeping on the couch. Blech. It also forced me to bow out of our BAPA Graduation skit, which I've had to keep under wraps but have been working hard at for weeks: the faeries danced the Thriller dance. It was awesome, and I missed it. It looks like I developed a deep and abiding hatred for Michael Jackson choreography for nothing.

Still, everybody else was there, and as soon as I get ahold of a video of it, that sucker is getting posted! Faeries! Dancing Thriller! There are no down-sides here.

The weekend was great for everybody else, and I wanted to set aside my stupid illness and highlight some of that:

My friends Katie and Mike; Katie was overjoyed to get to play a real badass this year, after so many seasons of being sweet and silent. She dearly loved promoting abject humiliations in the street;)

Dragon, doing her thing;) Therin is such a dear, lovely person, and I am so glad she joined us this year. Her Dragon was playful and funny, but could turn in an instant and almost chomp your head off. It was like playing with a tiger.


I owe so much to A-E and Tom. They have taught me much, and are two of the greatest comedians I know, and most gracious people. They each took a chance on me exactly when I needed it, and I am still wondering how to repay them.

Beth, in her web. One of the most tender-hearted souls I know. I want to wrap her up in soft downy cotton wool and take her home with me.



BFF B. I don't really know what to say here. He knows it all already, of course. He's the only person I can call at 3 in the morning with a problem, and I know he'll hear me out. He may be pissy about the hour, but he'd never hang up the phone;) St. Mike's was lucky to have him in their kitchen this year.

Mostly because of incredible dishes like this;)


The faeries, unguarded. Yup; we do talk backstage. But only in pig-latin.

I know; it looks like they're all playing some sort of faery-soccer, but they're actually dancing with a child out of frame. Faery-soccer comes after hours.


The parade is truly an awe-inspiring sight; you never realize just how many of us there are until you see that huge, long, snaking line making enough noise to wake the dead.

Mary is still a rock-star. Here's someone else who's forgotten more than I'll ever learn, and taught me so much. She made me cry once, and it was the best dressing-down I've ever gotten.

Casey, our omnipotent stage manager. Sweet, funny, and pretty darn awesome. She looks small, but don't try to block an entrance for a stage show. She's got cojones under that skirt.

The stage shows were, once again, pretty damn cool. Moony, Broon, Christophe, Dirk and Guido, Barely Balanced, Adam Crack . . . I could keep naming people, but I don't think I need to. Where else can you see a guy eat fire and juggle bowling balls, then walk twenty feet and see two guys sword fight?

I don't know what to say here. The moose has some significance, and I'm sure Heath and Greg know what it is, but I'm not about to ask them. It's better that way, really.

Suitcase Shakes, a venture started by my friends that is turning into something truly impressive. Wish I had seen Much Ado, one of my favorites, but I understand it was very good. I expected nothing less.

There'll be another post soon, maybe next week, about my thoughts on the season just past. I need to collect myself and my feelings before I write that. But, final weekend pulled out all the stops, as usual, even if I wasn't there to see it. Time to put away the tights for another year.