Since last writing in August, I’ve participated as a performer in a 3-day script workshop at The Playwrights’ Center, served as the public host for the AFL-CIO Labor Pavilion at the Minnesota State Fair, recorded eight TV and radio spots for Marketplace Events home shows around the U.S., been cast in kaotic good productions’ next show in Minneapolis The Cooking Show con Karimi & Comrades: Viva la Roots!, been cast in the 2011 Playlabs series at The Playwrights’ Center, and been cast in the Science Museum of Minnesota’s next large-scale exhibition, Real Pirates: The Untold Story of the Whydah from Slave Ship to Pirate Ship. All of which I intend to write about. Really, I do.

But today I need to share something far more immediate and pressing, and I shall preface it thusly: I would rather spend quality time with the hideous giant spider in my garage than plan, shop, and execute an ensemble for some fancy event. Ensemble as in clothes, not as in performance group. “But she dresses up for a living!” you say. “This should be easy and fun for her!” And to that I say, “Nope. It’s overwhelming. Also? Tedious.”

Don’t get me wrong – I enjoy a good dress and the tiny victory I feel in all the compliments that come with it (hell, I live in dresses in the summertime, but that’s because they’re complete outfits unto themselves – no planning required), but the process of figuring out an ensemble all by myself takes up valuable time that I’d rather spend doing something else. For the love of god, anything else. And now you understand my personal crusade to canonize all good costumers everywhere.

So the fabulous Ivey Awards are on Monday night. Yesterday, I obtained an ensemble. And could not, would not, have done so without the tireless determination of The Most Divine Miss Emily Taylor and her most appreciated stylist tendencies. Sainthood is most certainly yours, my dear.