Last night Carrie Fisher threw glitter all over me.
No, not some weird Star Wars themed dream. Wouldn't need Carrie Fisher for that one, as I'm ALWAYS Princess Leia in those dreams. I went last night to see Wishful Drinking at Seattle Rep.
It was a two hour tell-all of her life's story. Accompanied by toys, props, a Princess Leia life size doll, several tumblers of Coke, and copious amounts of glitter. I was lucky enough to get a seat in the front and center, so during the opening number of "Happy Days Are Here Again," she walked up and down the front row throwing handfuls of tinsel, and I'm still brushing it out of my hair.
It was a very good evening. Lots of great speeches, and her usual gift at alliterative sentences and witty reworkings of old folk sayings. There was plenty of audience participation during a gameshow called "Are They Related?" (Chronicling the twisted Hollywood Intermarriage rate, can Eddie Fisher and Debbie Reynold's granddaughter date Elizabeth Taylor's grandson?) And lots of dishy stories about Carrie Fisher's life and scandals.
I wasn't called on for anything, which was a relief. Except for when she was talking about how her second husband came out of the closet, leaving her blindsided, and later how a grief counselor told her, "I can't even imagine what you're going through." Having had a rather similar dating history, and a therapist see me come in the room, settle back in her chair, and tell me my life story was her "own personal episode of Will and Grace" (All she needed was some popcorn) I could have related, if she'd asked me to. And, in sheer numbers, I have her beat. Though, I was never married to any of mine.
Alright, I'd love to type more, but several jobs are calling my name. My feet are in terrible shape. I would tell you how bad, from constant walking while both waitressing and in retail, but the words were too scary on paper. Suffice it to say, I need a pedicure. If I can ever find some spare time.