Thurs, Mar. 17
... Spread my wings and I'll learn how to fly
Welcome to the show.
Anne opens tonight, and I have one rather angry kitty who just can't wait until it's all over. Poor Linus... his patience is wearing thing. But maybe the lure of being the star of the show will prove to be too addictive, and he'll be sitting by his carrier, begging to be taken with me whenever I go to rehearsal from now on.
Yeah right. I'll be lucky if he ever talks to me again.
Ah well. It's only for two more nights, and then... no, that's not right. I was going to say, "And then I get my evenings back," but really, it would be more accurate to say, "And then I can actually focus some attention on UBAR, and not be in rehearsal every single night of the week."
Then again, that's life, and it's fantastic.
And, you know, I'm actually thinking that Anne will go off without too many hitches. It's come a loooong way in the past three weeks, which makes me wonder--again--about the wisdom of a six-month rehearsal process. Wouldn't it just be better to start three months beforehand, and maintain more of a sense of urgency from the beginning?
I've done it both ways, and there are pros and cons to both, but I think that the best of both worlds is to start working on the show a year in advance, start designing it six months in advance, and start rehearsing it three months before it goes up. That seems, in my experience, to be the best way, especially within the confines of community theatre.
Anyways... must go get a live plant (apparently I'm really good at killing them) and some pop, and head to the church to begin my stage-managerly duties. Is that a word?
Ah, dang it. I didn't get up to the church today. Oh well... the table I have backstage works better than a music stand anyways, I think. As long as Linus doesn't knock it down or Kim doesn't fall down the stairs. But if you're in the audience, and you hear any loud noises, those are likely what they are!
One year ago today: ... but the pull of the Timmy's Iced Cap is far too strong. I stop at a Tim's on the way home (one of about 4 that I pass coming home from the airport) and get an Iced Cappuccino and a blueberry muffin, and sit down and proceed to write the final piece of the monologue that I've been blocked/procrastinating (saying that I'm "blocked" sounds so much more artistic than saying that I'm procrastinating) on for the past two months, at least.
infinite || abyss
posted at 3:59 p.m.
