I receive a slap across the head kind of email and chuckle as I stare out the window of Sunterra at the gorgeous hot Calgary sky. The clouds are thin and fibrous, like I’m sitting in the centre of a huge blue seedless watermelon. A business woman is outside battling the wind with her coffee, sandwich, phone and smoke, prioritizing what can and cannot get blown away. Her kitten heels cast long shadows and they bend inwards like a schoolgirl. She must enjoy the bluster, trying to do all these things at once. 
I breathe in the beauty and decide to not respond to the slap across the head email. It’s not personal. And it probably felt good for them to write. It did not leave a mark. Maybe it’s the Italian in me: I don’t mind a good clean bark. I’ll take it any day over quiet passive aggression.
I can see the rounded rim of the Saddledome between high rises. It’s tipped like a hat saying, “Howdy!” Apparently there is a heated debate in Calgary over Stampede exclamations. “Yahoo” is starting to replace “Yee haw!” Every self respecting Canuck who has ever ridden a horse knows you don’t say “Yahoo”, unless you are referring to the tourist who has purchased a ten gallon hat to wear with their Nike running shoes. That there would be a yahoo. I love Calgary’s matter of factness. It doesn’t try to hide its spurs. 
I’m off to the gym after a wonderful morning of rehearsals. Craig Hall directs in that easy clear unpretentious way that comes with confidence experience and excellence. The cast responds the same. No yahoos. It’s a joy. It’s elegant, this play. I watch Emma Slipp swivel her impossibly long legs in a chair. We have three serious dames to reckon with in this play. Not a fainting lily among us. I was reading up on film noir women. There is typically the femme fatale/Spider woman who is sexy smart and active. She is dangerous largely because of her independence. She doesn’t need the villain, she doesn’t need the leading man, she doesn’t need anyone. This is her flaw in this time period. Then there is the ever helpful virgin who asks for nothing from the hero other than a request that he come back for her. Aaron Bushkowsky certainly stays within the genre but he rounds out every single one of us. I love a well penned feminist. No need to apologize for who any of these ladies are. They are three dimensional in heels.
