Monday, June 14, 2004
Yesterday was quite a day, and I hope I don’t have another one like it again soon. It was just too much.
I woke up with everything hurting, from the physical demands of the show. I managed to get the morning chores done, check e-mail, read the Sunday papers, etc. I tried to post the blog, but, for some reason, Blogspot decided I didn’t exist and wouldn’t accept my password. I nearly missed the train, and was very upset.
Because of the Puerto Rican Day Parade, a walk that usually takes twenty minutes to the theatre took an hour. I’d hoped to spend some time at Coliseum Books on my way to the show, but they didn’t open until noon, so I couldn’t. Basically, every side trip on the way that I tried to cheer me up as I fought my way through the crowds backfired, and I was in a foul mood by the time I arrived. Plus, I carried the lemon sponge cake.
The matinee was a bit chaotic – two of the leads still out (one of whom is the woman who got sick during the show last night). Lots of shuffling and reshuffling in the matinee, as decisions were made during the show as to who did what where (which is all supposed to be figured out BEFORE the show so that presets can be done properly). The show is too tight and the personnel are stretched too thin for the presets to be reset while it’s running. We scrambled, but we got it done.
Dinner was potluck in the wardrobe room: John’s pizza, someone made salad, someone brought brownies, someone brought soda, I brought cake. It was fun. We ate and talked and chatted and relaxed. We only had an hour break, so it wasn’t worth trying to rush around and get food. It made much more sense to eat in.
Another of the leads was out for the evening show, so there were costumes to be switched (all my people were in, but I helped with the changeover). Then, during the performance, yet another lead got sick and we had to switch actors during intermission. I knew the track, so I could preset the second act while the regular dresser got the actress ready. That’s what the producers get for adding a ninth show on the week after the Tonys. Everyone was exhausted and stretched beyond belief, and getting sick. In addition, I wing two monkeys for the big reveal in the second act, and one of my monkeys never showed up. By the time the duet between the Wizard and Elpheba was finished, I had to tell the Stage Manager that even if the monkey showed up, there wasn’t enough time to get the wings on him before the reveal. He came upstairs after the scene while I de-winged my other monkey to apologize. It happens. People get overtired and lose track of what show we’re in and where we are in the show. And another of the actors slammed his spear into his foot by mistake. Everyone is just overtired. I only did seven shows this week, not nine, and I was fried.
A friend and I stopped at Cipriani for a drink on the way back to the train. The bartender (male) wore far too much mascara. There were a bunch of young tourists there. One girl in particular had had a few too many Cosmopolitans, trying to live the life of a Sex in the City girl. She kept wandering off, leaving her purse on the bar, in order to flirt with guys who were sort of cute but seemed amazingly vacuous. Believe me, NY is full of better men than those two, and chances are you won’t find them at a bar on a Sunday night at 11 PM. This is NY, for crying out loud, a city that doesn’t suffer fools gladly. That kind of behaviour will end up with death in a dumpster. Have a little common sense, people! The chances of her ending up as a character in a mystery (yes, the victim), are pretty high.
I know, I know. Always working.
I could barely keep my eyes open on the train. I didn’t want to fall asleep and end up in Stamford at 1 a.m. Not a good thing. So I forced myself to stay awake, stumbled home, and fell into bed.
I slept in until 8:30 this morning. Everything hurts. Things I forgot I have hurt.
Trying to focus on my work is difficult.
A friend from writer’s group told me she found the chloroform information in the encyclopedia. I look up from my desk, and there, on the shelf, in red and gold binding, is my 25 volume set of Britannica Junior from childhood. When I was little, all I wanted in this world was an encyclopedia. I thought encyclopedias were the greatest invention in the world, and I wanted to memorize all the information inside it. The A & P began offering the series at some point, I think it was $2.99 or $4.99 per volume a week with $20 of groceries or something like that. I remember how excited I was to get a new volume every week, and I’d sit and literally read it from cover to cover.
On the shelf below it, I have the 12 volume Audubon Nature Encyclopedia.
How could I not think to use them, now that I’m an adult? Certain information has changed, but plenty of things have remained the same.
I can’t believe I was that . . ..thoughtless? Ignorant?
On second thought, maybe I can. I’ve spent so much time obsessing about all the books that are in storage that I haven’t paid any attention to the books I have here, unless I’ve bought them recently.
That repetitive noise you hear is me banging my head against the wall.