I have been on the Stairmaster for at least twenty minutes a day since I got to Iowa City (if that doesn't sound like a lot to you, go do it and see if you don't get all gross and sweaty!). I have been working out at the rec center with the Mexican guys. Of course, they do more lifting and presses while I am concentrating on lower body and situps. It's cool, really. It's very macho in there, and it sort of brings out a physical side of myself that I've never really bothered with before (like if I'm doing chest presses, instead of stopping when I'm done with my set I'll push myself as far as I can go and make a scary face when I do the last one). And I actually enjoy working up one disgusting sweat per day, I think it's good for me. But, all that aside, do you want to know why I'm sweating it, reader?

Because I have to wear a babydoll nightgown onstage in one month.

And, let me just tell you, Mama's thighs are not what they used to be. Actually, o.k., my thighs are better than they've ever been (I used to be titillatingly tubby, now I'm just pleasingly plump), but I still would not call them stageworthy.

Particularly because mama is playing a 22-year-old. It would be one thing if I were playing a woman just a bit past her prime who was hamfistedly trying to seduce someone (comedy, ahoy!), but I am supposed to actually successfully seduce my fiance on a small couch. I'm a little worried about looking like a hippo in a tutu.

You know, it's actually going much better than I expected... I am really having a very good time and I'm figuring out how to make the role work for me and I feel very confident that everything will come together and the show will be very, very funny.

I'm just a little worried about the public unveiling. I haven't worn shorts in public since... ever. Maybe I can negotiate a knee-length babydoll nightgown. Or some charming matching snowpants. Though perhaps this will be an empowering thing. Maybe I'll come back to Chicago with a wardrobe of hotpants. If I can find anyone who makes them this big.

Sigh.