In which I pretend to be an actress

We've had dinner guests the last two nights running, so I haven't had much posting time. (We're finally catching up with some folks we hadn't seen in six months or more. Yay Chuckro being done with school.)

Wavilyem came to stay with us over the weekend. We hit up a murder mystery one of the local restaurants was running. Aside from a completely unnecessary crack about trans people that made me wince, it was a lot of fun. Not a "you have to go do this!" fun, but entertaining. I happily played along with one of the actors in the beginning and got cast as a character for my pains. Why is it that whenever Chuckro and I are involved in one of these things, one of us ends up dead? Top of the third act, stabbed in the chest with a collapsible knife. At least this time, I stabbed myself so it went off perfectly, as opposed to the Great Stage Gun Fiasco last time I had to die.

I won the best actress award--I've got the certificate on the fridge. Actually, I think the girl playing his girlfriend (I was the secret mistress) was a better actress. But I was far more deliberately-over-the-top and hammy, and it played better. Murder mysteries are not the place for the Method.