Ugh, got up early yesterday after staying up until 3a playing Snood (Snood! Seriously! I haven't played Snood for hours on end for years--it's a good thing this computer doesn't have Tetris or Chip's Challenge, or those addictions could come back as well), but I couldn't be late for tech because I was the one with the keys.

I stopped by Creative first to pick up the black box that I need for You Can Look, then lugged it to ATA. My God, it was heavy! And I only had to carry it for about two and a half blocks, because I took the bus for the other nine blocks, but it still about ripped my arms off at the shoulders, like in that SNL All-Drug Olympics skit.

I got to the theatre at the same time as Tony, then we struggled with the door and struggled with the combination lock on the dressing room (we had to call Paul, who told us that the trick was to go past zero twice before the second number), then struggled with the lighting board.

I didn't think to get the Fiddlin' lighting guy to show me the board, because how hard could it be? I've been running lights for 20 years, a lighting board is a lighting board. Not this one! We couldn't get any of the lights to work, though the board was switched on.

We poked at everything, we called everybody, but to no avail. Finally, Jason climbed up the ladder and found the breaker on the wall that both Tony and I had managed to miss. So there were lights! Not tons of lights, but enough lights for me.

So we ran You Can Look, and it was okay, but not great. Most of the problems were the fault of the fact that we only ever rehearsed in Maggie and Russ' apartment, which means that Russ' volume problems weren't dealt with, and we never got him far enough away from her, and we never did the ending full out.

This means that as far as I was concerned, he gave a mime performance, stood too close to her, and the end sucked.

Afterwards, I tried to gently suggest that he might want to be heard, and he got all twitchy about how that meant that he would have to change his character. He has been doing film so much lately that projection has not been an issue.

I left it to Maggie to convince him that it doesn't matter how good the performance is if you don't share it with the audience, and ran to the other theatre to work the matinee.

I managed to forget my reservation book at home (sigh), but knew that I wasn't overbooked for the matinee. And at least I had already emailed the evening performance's reservation to my ushers, so they wouldn't be without a list.

Omar was there, with a longish reddish crewcut, which looked good, if rather startling, and something like four people looking at the sign-in sheet said, "Hey! Omar's here!" The prodigal returns indeed.

I brought with me the SCTV DVD that I had from Netflix and quite happily watched that through the show.

Afterwards, I went to get something to eat, and turned my phone on to check messages (for some reason, it hadn't charged up the night before, so I had turned it off to save the battery), and there was an hysterical message from Jackie about the lights.

Apparently, Moira had called our lighting guy and asked how to turn on more of the stage lights, and everyone thought that we had broken something and Paul and the lighting guy (what the hell is his name? Starts with a C) were on their way to the theatre and if the board was broken, they would have to get in an electrician, and all was ashes, ashes.

I assured her that it was probably the breakers that got switched on and off before it was working, and the feckless idiot who did that (me), seemingly didn't flip all of them back on, and once flipped, all would be sunshine and roses again.

On my way to the theatre a little later, I ran into Katie, then we ran into Connor (that's the C!), and asked how the lights were, and he gave a big thumbs up. Whew! Jackie and Paul will not pop out my eyeballs with a grapefruit spoon!

Fiddlin' and Burnin' went fine, we had a 19 member audience, which was swell, though one of the audience members appeared to be an escapee from a mental institution.

He just laughed so much, and it sounded so stagey, that at first I thought it was the actors onstage adding big fake laughs to their scene. But no, it was emitting from the audience.

I swan, he sounded like an insane lunatic psychopath, and I was pretty certain that he wouldn't last all the way to the second act, that he'd burst a blood vessel in his brain and pitch over into the aisle and we'd all have to step over him for our entrances through the stage door.

The worst thing about having an insane laugher in the audience, though, is when he doesn't laugh at something. Like my fall! Which he didn't laugh at at all! He laughed at my squeak, though. But this loon is laughing at everything in sight including dust motes and breathing, but he doesn't laugh at my extremely amusing fall on my face. Fucker.

Here's the other thing about the insane crazy laugher of craziness. It all of a sudden made me realize just exactly how annoying my laugh is sometimes.

Now, most actors I know love to have me in an audience, I'm a great laugher and it's infectious rather than intimidating, but I have, in my life, had people turn around to stare at me in an audience, or been told to please stop laughing so much.

I remember one time, long long ago, my friend Melanie was working on a show starring Joe Spano (pre-Hill Street Blues) that was a spoof about Sam Spade or Philip Marlowe or one of those Bogart characters, and it was about the funniest thing I had ever seen in my life.

I saw the show, laughed and laughed, and then I was staying for the second show, when Melanie brought out the message that the actors asked that I not laugh so much for the second show. And that really hurt my feelings, you know? "Why don't they want me to laugh? I laugh because the show is funny and because they are doing great jobs! I hate them now! They suck! Boo!"

Well, you know what? As of last night, I get it. Sorry, Joe Spano and cast! Didn't realize how annoying one person's laugh can be!

After the show, I chatted for a minute with Moira, who is in the 7p evening before my 9p evening that You Can Look is in, and she mentioned that her tech had gone sketchily, that they were having a dress rehearsal at 9a this morning.

I took in the information without really processing it, because as I was walking down the street later, I thought, ""Wait a minute, how are they gonig to get into the theatre tomorrow morning at 9a when I have the key in my pocket right now?"

So I called Moira, who had gone home, then called Tony, then Laura, then anyone else I could think of, and nobody but Moira was answering, and she said, "I'm an actor in this show," meaning that plans about keys were not her problem.

After I couldn't reach anyone else, I called Moira and said I was coming up to her house, because what the hell else was I going to do, leave them out on the street like Fagin's urchins while I was sleeping cosily in New Jersey, theatre keys firmly in my pants pocket?

I was starving, though, so I decided to eat first, then I got on the bus, turned my almost battery-free phone back on, and found a message from Tony saying that Laura had called the theatre owner, and he would let them in the next morning. So I got off the bus and went home. I think I got there an hour later than I would have had I not been all responsible and caring and motherfucking thoughtful about another show not having the keys.

Where's my halo?

The song I have been singing all day:

"Look at Me I'm Sandra Dee" from Grease

Look at me, I'm Sandra Dee,
Lousy with virginity
Won't go to bed till I'm legally wed,
I can't, I'm Sandra Dee
Watch it, hey, I'm Doris Day,
I was not brought up that way
Won't come across, even Rock Hudson lost
His heart to Doris Day

Today's horoscope:
The heavens are brimming over with sensuous, touch-loving energy -- which means it's time to give someone you love a great big hug. Of course, there's a little something more you can do, too. Like telling them you love them.

One year ago today:
Now, I may love McDonald's, I may think that Sizzler is the height of dining excellence, but I am way too snobby to be seen dead in the Olive Garden. So Red Lobster it was!

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Last Updated Mon 14 March 17:16:09 2005