So yesterday was opening night of the mainstage, so we didn't have rehearsal.

I managed to hang around the house all day and get to the show late, but that was frankly just to be expected, seeing as it's me. I had a few errands to run, I had to return my new black jeans to Modell's, because I bought too small a size (I want them to be tight for the show, but realized that if I wore them that tight the giant roll of fat bulging over the waistband would probably nullify any sexiness brought on by not having a baggy seat), pick up the wig I'm borrowing from Tracy, and copy the programmes.

Obviously, copying the programmes was the most important part, but I really wanted to have the wig for rehearsal today.

So I finally dragged my ass out of the house around 4.30p and went up to 105th St. to get the wig. But there was tunnel traffic, and by the time I got it, it was after 6p. I called information and found a Kinko's near where I was, copied the programme, spotted a typo in a beautiful poster that they had made copies of (Red Hot Mama's!), promised not to mention it to the customer if she came in while I was waiting, then didn't really know where the subway was, so I decided to take the bus.

Now, I take the bus all the time, I know how slow it is, but I magically thought that I could get from 112th St. to 47th St. in twenty minutes? Had I gone insane?

Apparently. I was about half an hour late, but Kirsten was there and my usher was experienced, so all was well. It turned out to be great that Kirsten was there, because we were so busy, and I didn't have to worry about where to put the extra seat.

I managed to stuff all of the audience in, like those white-gloved people pushers on Japanese subways, then went in myself with Omar. Of course, my seat was given away, but I sat on the risers next to his chair.

The show was very good, very funny, but it was a British farce, and the accents were appalling. I know, I know, I care about things like that more than anyone else, but it really can make it very difficult to love a show when I am busy correcting mispronunciations all over the place. Not only that, but everyone just seemed very American. I mean, it was not only British, it was period British, so there was a certain style of speech that people weren't doing quite right. They didn't watch enough British films from the 40's.

On the other hand, the performances were lovely, particularly Philip, whom even though I have known him for nearly sixteen years, constantly surprises me with how good he is, and Brad from Blackberry Frost, who played a timid vicar as well as he had played a country boy. And there was Patty, whom neither one of use recognized in her black hair and glasses!

It was a wild farce and just built and built to the final act where every time someone came flying out of a door, it was always a different person than you expected.

Now, this was my first time seeing the set that we are going to perform on next week, though Moira had helped with the build and had described it to us.

One thing, though. There didn't seem to be a way to get from stage right to stage left without being seen. There are these french doors upstage centre and a visible garden pass-through behind it, that occasionally someone would pass through when it didn't entirely make sense. I asked afterwards, and no, there is no way through. Unfortunately, we take all of our off dead bodies that way.

I had a brainstorm this morning, though, since we are putting a bookcase in front of the french doors, when the dead characters magically turn into live actors, they can crawl across! Better that than reblocking the entire play, frankly.

Omar was being weird. He is stepping back from me again, I can feel it. Of course, it doesn't take psychic powers to figure that out when, after the show I said, "Wait for me for five minutes and I'll do the box office money," and he said, "I have to go, I'm doing something with Lorelei," and ran out the door without kissing me or anything.

I think he lied, I think he wasn't doing anything with his daughter, because if he was, why didn't he mention it earlier? Like when we talked during the day and discussed whether we were going to go to the bar afterwards, (verdict: no, and not because he had other plans!). So I'm kind of annoyed at that.

On the one hand I don't actually take it personally, I think he was feeling overwhelmed, but on the other hand, fuck him sideways.

Today's horoscope:
Partners distract and inspire. Let yourself be dragged off on some wild adventure. The only way to widen your horizons is to spend time in places that you've never anticipated.

One year ago today:
So now, apparently, the movie is about Jonas Salk discovering polio and his wife, Julianne Moore, discovering that he's gay. Sounds complicated!

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Last Updated Sun 22 February 01:28:09 2004