So yesterday I had to get up early even though it was a weekend but who cares about my needs, right? I had to tech Orestes starting at 11.30a so that I could be finished by 1.30p and tech Oblivious and be done by 2.30p because Le was having auditions at 3p.

I was running late, because I am a human being who resents having to get up on a Saturday at the same time as she has to get up on a Friday, but we had a half-hour window of extra time, so I figured it would be okay.

The director had asked if he could be in there earlier, and I said yes, so I wasn't surprised to see all manner of goings-on when I got there. They were running something, and I said to the director that we had to start. "But, I've already started, I'm doing a cue-to-cue!"

And that was when I realized, damn, that I had forgotten to emphasize that Love Creek's definition of the word tech is not technical rehearsal, but dress-tech, i.e. full performance-level for a member of the artistic staff.

He had planned to do his cue-to-cue and work out his technical glitches until he had to leave at 1.30p, and then do a dress rehearsal when he came back at 5p. Which meant that I wasn't going to be able to see the show before it opened, but then I realized that it didn't matter.

This is a member project with only the member involved, it really isn't a Love Creek show, it doesn't matter a whit whether it's good or crap or anything, as it does not reflect on Love Creek. Therefore, I told the lone company member whose project this is a few things that she needed to know, and split.

I was mostly annoyed that I had had to get up earlier than necessary.

But honestly, I had been told it was an hour-and-a-half-long show, but now it turns out that it's an hour long, they've been rehearsing in the space for four weeks (because they wanted mornings, it was possible), they are teching for hours on end, and did I mention that the show was an hour?

As someone who regularly rehearses for a couple of weeks in people's tiny apartments and then turns out a pretty damn good two hour play after one run-through in the space, this is over-the-top.

Time to kill, time to kill, so I went to the Ghetto Internet Cafe before going back for the other tech.

This is a half-hour long piece that was done before, will be in the French this year, and is now going up again all by itself at 10p after Orestes for two nights, tickets $5. This is unusual, but she says that she can get an audience, and since there will be another show running both nights, any money it makes will just be gravy.

I missed it when it was on before, though it sounded good through the door, so I was glad to be able to watch the tech. And it was terrific! Frankly, a one-person show, written, directed and starring the same person usually means a big bunch of ego that would have benefited from an outside eye, but this was absolutely great.

She does all of these different voices and characters and accents, and you know me, I don't think that anyone on earth can do dialects but me, but she was splendid.

Then I had four and a half hours to kill, and I could have gone home, or I could have gone to the movies, but I decided to do something that I really needed to do. I went to Trader Joe's.

Yes! After yammering on about it for an entire month, I dragged my ass out to Westfield, New Jersey, and got some cheap, cheap wine. It would have been cheaper to borrow the car, but God only knows when that will be convenient for all parties, so I took the train.

It cost $9 round trip, and it's only an hour to get there, with a bit of waiting for connections and so on, but the Trader Joe's itself is only a couple of blocks from the station.

Westfield is a damn cute little town, with the little shops selling little things and everything has a bench out front to sit in the sun, and the movie theatre is called the Rialto, and I totally want to move there.

Plus, the only Trader Joe's in the tri-state area that sells liquor is right there! Why would anyone not want to move there?

I had emptied everything out of my shoulder bag before going out there, so was able to fit nine bottles in there and carry the remaining three without too much difficulty. That's the one car problem, it's really only possible to carry one case by yourself all the way back to New York on the train.

Six bottles of sauv blanc and six of merlot, all for only $47 including the train fare. In New York I could get not quite seven bottles for that money, maybe six and a half. Score!

Got back to town, the show opened, small house, no intermission, and, worst of all, an audience of poor student-types. Older people have money, people should be drinking during Dulcy next week, an elderly, drinky audience and an intermission.

I don't think I'm going to hit $100 this week on concessions.

I was sitting in my living room, wrapped in a towel, and Fran walked by my door, and said:

"Thanks for putting the laundry in the dryer."
"Your shirt is on inside-out."
"Then perhaps I won't greet the Queen. And, might I add, neither should you."
"Hey! My towel's on the right way round!"

Today's horoscope:
Make a list of everything you've ever wanted to see, learn or experience. Keep what's actually possible right now, and don't be surprised if that list is a lot longer than you'd imagined. Now choose one item and get busy.

One year ago today:
So in future, if anyone wants to hear my Australian accent, I will whip out, "It looks like a giant scrote!" It will be my party turn.

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Last Updated Tues 10 May 16:01:09 2005