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Jun. 14th, 2004 11:39 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
enteleinThe night was full of tossing and turning, and sweating out the first part of some weird nasty summer cold that's taken ahold of my throat and possibly my ears. There's no pain in my ears, but I've had one or two bouts of slight dizziness that make me think my sinuses may be under attack, setting my equilibrium slightly askew.
I went to work, got there super-early - early enough to treat myself to a jamba juice, and some toast. I didn't even make coffee. I sat at my desk and felt a bit swimmy, and I sipped up the orangey smoothie thing until it was gone, and then I drank water, and then I passed out. I fell into a few minutes of serious REM action, dreaming of someone vandalizing my car beyond driveability, and then having them knock on my door to tell me they did it. In reality, I am annoyed at my mechanic, who replace the fan belt the other day, and yet, the fan belt is still squealing. I'm really hoping the pulleys and such don't need any major fixing. I need this car, absolutely, over the next couple of weeks. (I also kinda doubt he just sprayed WD-40 on the belt for a quick fix. He's pretty trustworthy.)
See, the show opens Thursday, and here I am, at work, head down and fathoms deep in a small nap, wondering if my car will survive, and if I can hit the high notes on my solos. At around 10:30AM, I gave up, went to my boss, and got leave to get up and leave. I headed out into a sunny cool day, awash with the remains of a freakish monsoon-like deluge that had come through only a few minutes previously.
Once home, I set the alarm and fell onto my bed and was dead to the world for the second time that morning.
I've since done some laundry, gone grocery shopping, and gathered up a couple costume/prop items for myself and others in the cast. I should've been in bed an hour and a half ago, but I took sinus/allergy meds to alleviate some of the sniffliness, and I've got this thin, thrumming hum of a buzz going on. It's in my upper arms and along my collarbone, keeping me up and buzzed, in a strangely-settled even sort of way. Mellow and hyper, all at once. Black tights, beige bra, and a Puritan-style bonnet are drip-drying on the rack now. I had tea-dyed the bonnet earlier today, as my costume has an off-white blouse and apron, and the bonnet is a pristine, glaring white. The tea took very well to the cap portion, but the brim seems to be made of more synthetic stuff, and only took a little. That's fine. The stage lights will rectify it all, I am sure.
I ran into an old high school friend at the grocery store, which was cool. Malachy looks pretty much the same as he ever did, except he's now much taller than me. I felt tired and old and not really in any condition to have a pleasant reunion, so I sorried about my post-laundry grunginess and the blah-ness of my cold and scribbled out my show dates on some planner paper, and then we went our separate ways. It was good to see him, but I am so out of it today that I know I must've seemed a mess.
But now I've got apples and salted almonds and yogurt and eggs and cereal and a nice fish filet and more veggie burgers, so this week should be well-fortified against this cold, the heat, the dress/tech rehearsals, and the opening night of Into the Woods. I'm hoping everyone is right in that this show can't possibly be as bad/mediocre/lacking as it seems in my head, as I've been so exhausted and so disillusioned with the director that I don't have much perspective left. My only tasks at this point are to hold myself accountable to my usual hard-working standards, and hope that everyone else does, too. It's terrible going into the final rehearsals, feeling so unprepared. I just gotta stay focused, and hit every note, and remember every word. So, so many words in this show.
Speaking of theatre, I went to go see friends Lisa and Peter in The Mystery of Edwin Drood this past Saturday, and the author, Rupert Holmes, was in the audience. How bizzarre. I wasn't expecting that at all. I was in the show myself in college, directed by someone who now does reviews for the Tribune. I almost expected to see him there, as well, once Mr. Holmes stood up and told the cast how wonderful they were. It was a nice moment.
One of the draws of the play is that the audience votes on several outcomes to the play, as it was originally a story by Charles Dickens that was never finished, on account of Dickens' death. There are something over 200 possible combinations, and one of the things Holmes said when he addressed the cast was that in 20 years of seeing the play, he'd never, ever seen this particular combination. Because even though so many combos are possible, a few 'popular' combinations tend to pop up, depending on the general mood of the audience, and the relative spark of the actors who get picked out of the lineup. That was cool, too.
OK, the buzzing from the allergy meds has subsided, for the most part. Time to catch some more zzz's.
I went to work, got there super-early - early enough to treat myself to a jamba juice, and some toast. I didn't even make coffee. I sat at my desk and felt a bit swimmy, and I sipped up the orangey smoothie thing until it was gone, and then I drank water, and then I passed out. I fell into a few minutes of serious REM action, dreaming of someone vandalizing my car beyond driveability, and then having them knock on my door to tell me they did it. In reality, I am annoyed at my mechanic, who replace the fan belt the other day, and yet, the fan belt is still squealing. I'm really hoping the pulleys and such don't need any major fixing. I need this car, absolutely, over the next couple of weeks. (I also kinda doubt he just sprayed WD-40 on the belt for a quick fix. He's pretty trustworthy.)
See, the show opens Thursday, and here I am, at work, head down and fathoms deep in a small nap, wondering if my car will survive, and if I can hit the high notes on my solos. At around 10:30AM, I gave up, went to my boss, and got leave to get up and leave. I headed out into a sunny cool day, awash with the remains of a freakish monsoon-like deluge that had come through only a few minutes previously.
Once home, I set the alarm and fell onto my bed and was dead to the world for the second time that morning.
I've since done some laundry, gone grocery shopping, and gathered up a couple costume/prop items for myself and others in the cast. I should've been in bed an hour and a half ago, but I took sinus/allergy meds to alleviate some of the sniffliness, and I've got this thin, thrumming hum of a buzz going on. It's in my upper arms and along my collarbone, keeping me up and buzzed, in a strangely-settled even sort of way. Mellow and hyper, all at once. Black tights, beige bra, and a Puritan-style bonnet are drip-drying on the rack now. I had tea-dyed the bonnet earlier today, as my costume has an off-white blouse and apron, and the bonnet is a pristine, glaring white. The tea took very well to the cap portion, but the brim seems to be made of more synthetic stuff, and only took a little. That's fine. The stage lights will rectify it all, I am sure.
I ran into an old high school friend at the grocery store, which was cool. Malachy looks pretty much the same as he ever did, except he's now much taller than me. I felt tired and old and not really in any condition to have a pleasant reunion, so I sorried about my post-laundry grunginess and the blah-ness of my cold and scribbled out my show dates on some planner paper, and then we went our separate ways. It was good to see him, but I am so out of it today that I know I must've seemed a mess.
But now I've got apples and salted almonds and yogurt and eggs and cereal and a nice fish filet and more veggie burgers, so this week should be well-fortified against this cold, the heat, the dress/tech rehearsals, and the opening night of Into the Woods. I'm hoping everyone is right in that this show can't possibly be as bad/mediocre/lacking as it seems in my head, as I've been so exhausted and so disillusioned with the director that I don't have much perspective left. My only tasks at this point are to hold myself accountable to my usual hard-working standards, and hope that everyone else does, too. It's terrible going into the final rehearsals, feeling so unprepared. I just gotta stay focused, and hit every note, and remember every word. So, so many words in this show.
Speaking of theatre, I went to go see friends Lisa and Peter in The Mystery of Edwin Drood this past Saturday, and the author, Rupert Holmes, was in the audience. How bizzarre. I wasn't expecting that at all. I was in the show myself in college, directed by someone who now does reviews for the Tribune. I almost expected to see him there, as well, once Mr. Holmes stood up and told the cast how wonderful they were. It was a nice moment.
One of the draws of the play is that the audience votes on several outcomes to the play, as it was originally a story by Charles Dickens that was never finished, on account of Dickens' death. There are something over 200 possible combinations, and one of the things Holmes said when he addressed the cast was that in 20 years of seeing the play, he'd never, ever seen this particular combination. Because even though so many combos are possible, a few 'popular' combinations tend to pop up, depending on the general mood of the audience, and the relative spark of the actors who get picked out of the lineup. That was cool, too.
OK, the buzzing from the allergy meds has subsided, for the most part. Time to catch some more zzz's.
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no subject
Date: 2004-06-15 01:26 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-06-16 06:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-06-16 02:29 am (UTC)I hope you feel better by showtime!