Oh, Ryan, Do You Do Theater, Too?

LOL. No. Do I LOOK insane? Don't answer that. If I were in theater, I would literally never see my husband who metaphorically dies for approximately six months out of the year. No offense to you theater #PowerCouples, though. I'm convinced you are all majestic time traveling wizards who ride on unicorns and throw children all their dreams and kittens from burlap sacks because that is literally the only realistic way that any of you see each other.

So, no, I do not "do" theater in the tradish sense, but I do play a role. A prestigious role. It's the same role Hugh Jackman's wife who-has-a-name-but-I-don't-know-it-and-don't-wanna-google-it plays. It's the same role Sarah Jessica Parker plays. The same role that Neil Patrick Harris and David Burtka play interchangeably. That's right. I am the spouse of a thespian. I am ~a theater widower~ *casual hair flip*.

Got a mention because we know who the real star is here. Also, for you youngins out there,
the # indicates a NUMBER and not a hashtag like the good old days.
LOL HOW WILD.

So what is a theater widow(er) exactly? Basically exactly what it sounds like. Luckily, yours truly created a definition for clarification:

theater widow(er) \ˈthē-ə-tər \ˈwi-də-w(ər)\
noun
1. a non-thespian (fe)male who temporarily perceives that s/he has lost her or his significant other to the theater
2. a non-acting/producing/directing but nonetheless dramatic (fe)male whose S.O. is two-timing with the Theater (the tramp) 


MERRIAM-WEBSTER. If you're reading this (which you have to be now that I all-capped your name), add this to the contenders for Word of the Year. Please. I need you to get serious for a minute and add Theater Widow and Theater Widower this year. With my face next to it. There are worse things you have done (hint: #selfie, #twerk). 

I wrote about this topic previously on another little blog that is still live but no longer active. My husband became a blog widower upon our marriage. Sorry, bye Felicia. 

Anyway, there are a few basic assumptions and expectations we have as human beings:

• Thanksgiving - December 25th is the most wonderful time of the year. So many of us accept this as fact that there is a song that actually addresses it. 
• The happiest/most magical place on Earth is in Florida where all of our dreams come true if we just ask a star to help a brother/sister out. So many of us grow up thinking this that when we reach adulthood, we've got a REAL bone to pick with our apparently deadbeat, has-been fairy guardian who never came through for any of us. JUST GOT LUCKY I GUESS LOL. 
• Pizza is life (and, unrelated to this post, calorie/lactose/gluten/cholesterol free)*
• The most anxiety inducing location is a party where only humans (SOMETIMES EVEN CHILDREN, the audacity of you people) - no cats or (if desperate) dogs - are present.
• Yankee Candles. Nothing more to say here, tbh.

Well, kids, I'm about to throw a real big truth bomb on y'all. We have been deceived. Christmas is not the most wonderful time of the year. Orlando does not house the happiest/most magical place on Earth (we don't even have FAIRY GUARDIANS). Pizza is not life - I KNOW. 

No. No, the news on the street is that the place that is most magical and happy is closer than you might think. The time that is most wonderful is RIGHT NOW. The meaning of life as we know it is not pizza, but a place, a feeling, a name. The most anxiety inducing location is UNDER THE STARS in the middle of no where (okay, that's kind of legitimate).

What do they call this place/time/lifestyle? A lot of people know about March Madness. The answer is not March Madness. I'm just stalling and making you read more words because Americans don't read enough anymore. 

They call this place/time/lifestyle...Muni Madness. And it starts now and doesn't end until everSeptember.

I mean, that's pretty magical. It's so magical it makes my husband disappear.

Being a theater widow(er) is sometimes the worst at best. The long nights, the piano parties where you're forced to perform for free like some commoner, the weird compulsion to sing "Angel of the Morning" when you wake up and they're leaving to build sets, having to share the limelight just because other people got up on a stage and spun around, and just a lot of ~feelings~.

Don't get me wrong, there are perks too. I enjoy picnicking on the lawn, drinking a bottle glass of PinotMargCabSauvSangritini, slurping down a Muni dog whole with no worries about the next morning, and attributing standing ovations to myself. There is also some comfort in knowing where your S.O. has vanished to for long periods of time. For example, while some people might worry if their S.O.:

• is dead. 
• got kidnapped. 
• is an INFIDEL. 
• is a secret agent. 
• is with your secret sister wife and/or brother husband.
• is with your known sister wife and/or brother husband.
• got stuck in a mass deportation scheme by Trump OR
• is at a Trump rally 
• is Santa.
• is Krampus.
• is traveling somewhere nice.
• is waiting in Customs.
• is waiting for their luggage.
• is renewing their license at the DMV.
• is drowning in Clinton's emails.
• is "trying" to negotiate the state budget.
• is attending night classes.
• is running an underground drug ring.
• is giving birth.
• ran away.
• is a street walker.
• is eating pizza and didn't extend an invite.
• became a socialist because you aren't sure what socialism means so you're worried.
• went on vacation but forgot to invite them.
• getting their picture taken for Romney's binders full of women.
• staging your intervention for candles.
• planning a surprise party.
• plotting their death.
• plotting their cat's death.
• on the run from the law.

I know my S.O. is:

• at rehearsal
• building sets
• at tech week
• instructing performers in the art of CraigChoreo

So what's the macguffin for this one? Tough to say. I am always trying to be a better theater widower, despite having written two blog posts that complain about the experience. It's all in jest - I am happy to play the role because it makes Craig and lots of other people happy. Plus, I haven't been disappointed yet. So here's the macguffin: continue working on being a better theater widower.

Before we go, you'll notice that I didn't retract my statement about Yankee Candle above. That's because what I said is true about ~America's Best Loved Candle~ Sidebar: my best read blog entry was this one - OVER 400 VIEWS. Maybe not huge for bigtime bloggers, but my last most read entry prior to that one was only ~80 views. And Yankee Candle tweeted at me about it. Kudos, readers! I cannot thank you enough for the love and support. Your comments enrich each post and your shares are valuable in growing the audience. Plus, if it weren't for you, I'd just be talking to no one instead of doing this:

I like to think she is listening to "Larger than Life"
by the Backstreet Boys. I know I am.
gif credit: Giffage

I am brainstorming some new ideas for the blog so I can update a little more regularly with some smaller content. Not all of these are going to end with a macguffin because, to be honest, I think I have figured out that (ryan)vention itself is a macguffin. Nonetheless, I am going to try to at least put one post out per week proposing a new macguffin, since that's the whole point. 

You may have also noticed that I have a new logo/header on the top of the page. My thespian husband is a jack of all trades, so I made asked him to make me a logo. 

You can also follow the blog now on instagram (ryan_vention) and Twitter (ryan_vention) - a whole lot of nothing happens there, but whatever.  Again: thank you for your support and your valuable time and attention. It does not go unnoticed. 

Hugs 'n kisses and peace 'n blessins.

*I grew up in America so I don't know what nutrition is.