Into The Woods

Once upon a time there was a clumsy Cinderella. Everywhere she went she tripped, spinning around and around, arms flailing, making a big kerplunk as she fell, gold shoes popping off, ball gown dress flying up, showing everyone her billowy white bloomers underneath. Seventh grade Shana. She sang, she danced, she acted, she got all bruised up. Cracks me up still when I think about her Into The Woods performance at the amazing Tesseract (I just "contributed" part of my taxes to them today, hoping that they will spend it better than our scary, Big Bad Wolf, governor). Yesterday Cinderella Shana left Madrid for Paris, hopefully not falling down on her four days there, then Brussels, Bruges, Amsterdam and wrapping up her Into The Spring Break performance in London. I wish I was in the West End audience to watch that one, too. So it's not just the awesomeness of friend, Maggie, who built the set for the current production of Into The Woods that's making me drive all the way to Gilbert this weekend. It's that I miss Shana.