I don't thank Col. Gaddafi for many things but I will acknowledge that he's given me fodder for many of my stories, and for this, my first official blog post.
When I read early this morning that Big G, as my fellow expats and I used to call him, had been found (in Sirte, Libya) and injured, the first thing I did...I'm serious...was reach for my passport to make sure it was in-hand should I need to flee the country. Then I remembered I was in Austin, Texas, making flight, at this point at least, unnecessary. The passport-in-hand habit is a hard one to break.
Later this morning, I was corresponding on-line with European colleagues about the possibility of performing TEA IN TRIPOLI at a conference next year in Washington DC and also taking it to an English-speaking theatre in The Hague (Netherlands) and maybe even a theatre in London. I mentioned that I'd been waiting for Gaddafi to die (i.e. I'd be more comfortable performing Libyan stories if he were dead) before I took the show outside the US. Next thing I know, the BBC reports that Gaddafi has been killed. Boy, I'm one powerful woman.
My ex-husband, John just called to say, "Kind, beloved ex-wife, please never wish me dead.."