the things that occur when tech doesn't finish until preview night
There's one page of this script (the very final page, in fact) where I have to change three different lights (spread among four switches) at the same time, after which I get up from my chair to lower in the Star of Bethlehem (thanking Target for producing it in white, as I lower it in darkness), with just enough time to spare to turn the Star on while making my way back to my chair, hit the next cue button for a blackout, then take two sets of Christmas lights above plus two more switches worth of Christmas lights plus the Star that just came on, breathe in and out twice (the same length of time it takes for the actors to get to center stage), and begin curtain call. This would make up a full half the light cues in the entire show.
I do not like this page. I do, however, like this show.
* the possibility of the Museum District, even if I never manage to see it
* not having to pay an electricity bill
* my free, yet terribly comfortable, bed
* the word "forsooth," my favorite catchphrase of the intern collective (followed by our unofficial motto: "Don't suck!")
* introducing new people to High School Musical
* knowing the most effective bus route to the favored movie theater of the A.D. Players
* living one block from a mall
* new friends willing to chauffer all over, treat to onion rings, play games until everyone is beyond ridiculous, join in all manner of random adventures, and yet still appreciate stories from the people you're thankful for from back home
First, you have no idea how much I've missed this "having time off" thing. Students everywhere, please take a moment to appreciate the fact that, despite the papers you might be frantically still putting off at this time, you've received more time off this week than the amount of vacation hours I'm allotted per year. I will now move on to avoid dwelling on the same.
Second, this week has been a bugger. The box office started bustling again with the promise of a new show, meaning the usual Monday understaffing was not such a grand idea. Monday evening was filled with final plotting and planning, as well as possibly the longest phone conversation I have ever held with an Angelfish. Tuesday...Tuesday was so non-stop that I don't think I would've managed lunch if it hadn't been the combination of provision (a pre-Thanksgiving gift to the company) and other people eating between flights. I had a dress rehearsal for the artistic director (and I'm *so pleased* the director forgot to inform me of such ahead of time) and then more extended phone calls from the homeland. (Tiffani: how's the ankle?) Wednesday were auditions for the next kid's show and my first evening box office shift of the new show, followed by supreme amounts of sleeping.
Ah, the sleeping.
Thursday consisted of an incredible amount of food and games and festiveness as the group of us ended up taking a break from the eating to land at the downtown lighting of the Christmas trees. There were fireworks, perfectly aimed to reflect off the overly-mirrored windows of several office buildings. Thursday also consisted of no additional sleep, as I discovered a fellow Black Friday fiend in Jesse. Agreeing to stand in line at Best Buy starting around 3:30 a.m.? MVP [second team], sir, MVP. (First team MVP honors go to Natalie, who ferried me to and from the airport on Tuesday, for helping me reach something more important than cheap DVDs.)
I have slept since then, which is always a plus, especially since then I can go back and decide if I want to keep all the DVDs I purchased, as well as do more field research on the digital camera that I'll probably end up keeping (but want to make certain within my 14 day return policy schedule). Also, I'm working box office again this evening and I'm always slightly more lucid with a few hours of sleep under my belt.
I'm really only looking because I got a coupon in the mail, which reminded me anew that I wanted one, and I'm sorta checking if I should avoid purchasing such things because I'm going to get one anyway.
In other news, I need Black Friday to arrive and leave so I can stop obsessing and start enjoying the inevitable new stack of movies that I could justify spending only $3 on apiece. I also need to get some sleep since I've run myself around entirely too much lately, especially with the amount of Not Sleeping that I've been doing on top of things. (I must be doing something proper, though, since I had a brief conversation in passing with the almighty artistic director today who wanted to mention how pleased she was with me. This also can help justify the pretty as an "earned it" item.)
So many other, more vital to the world and my specific place in it thoughts running through my head, but I don't have the time or the energy to make sense of them tonight because I have to put together an audition order for the morning instead.
I need a more comfortable desk chair so I can fall asleep in it without worrying that it'll fold up on me in the middle of the night like the lawn chair that it actually is.
In completely unrelated news, I have about sixteen hours to learn a certain Oscar-winning song with which to serenade someone tomorrow.
No matter how many times I ask for it to occur, it always surprises me when I ask for a sign...and the sign appears. Especially when it's letting me know that there's still potential to fix something that I hadn't been aware needed a fix.
I've been in a funky mood lately, and I'd like to blame in on the fact that I have all sorts of tech going on (which generally puts me in A Mood) and not that I'm feeling the lonely effects of choosing to watch massive amounts of movies stored on my DVR instead of calling up people and going out somewhere. It doesn't help that almost all of the people who I hang out with in Texas are involved with the mainstage, killing their evenings and most of the weekend. I want my show to start so I can fall in love with all the tech and audience participation all over again.
In other news, last week I was told that I looked like an anime character with my faux Mary Janes and chopstick-like pencils in my pigtails. Two days previously I'd inevertibly dressed in all black with boots and felt very ninja-esque. The next day I was referred to as "the most sarcastic person I know," which was most likely exageration (considering the source), but not completetly without merit. I blame my constant changing images last week on the influence of Googlism.
In other other news, I need to do laundry. No, seriously. And get new music in my head, much as I appreciate the humor of "25th Annual Putnum County Spelling Bee." I am, afterall, the most sarcastic person some people know.
This morning I woke up with the intention of writing a post about how I'm nervous about screwing up in my grand position as stage manager. Most of the show's tech has been pushed off in favor of finishing the mainstage (currently in previews, opening tomorrow), and--though I realize that the shop was terribly busy trying to pull everything together for that on time--I feel like I should've been pestering the crew more to keep things on schedule.
This evening I had a quick conversation with one of the other company stage managers (recently promoted from intern to company member) about how she also hates pressing the techies because she knows they're dealing with two shows and everything will come together, even if it's not on the schedule she wants. "I don't have to worry about it, but I do because I still want to make sure I'm doing enough."
Now, it just depends on whether the company meeting runs long, or if the production meeting lasts the entire hour, how bad traffic is going (and coming), and the ability to find people in a huge, international-serving airport.
I am going to see my Lemon Drop! Next Tuesday! For only about an hour! But that's an hour longer than I've seen anyone else since July! I hope I'm not jinxing anything!
* Over the course of the evening, I pulled together ten pieces of mail that I now need to go drop in the outbox, including three postcards and one extensive letter.
* I have had the best fried chicken I've ever eaten, and it's from a recipe on the back of a spice bottle.
* Merv has decided, in honor of our slightly north of the border status, to only play the Disney songs on the hard drive that are in Spanish. There are more of these than some people might originally believe.
* Gilmore Girls is going to drive me to the point of not watching it anymore within the next month unless something changes drastically.
* I think I'm going to pick all my Facebook status messages from Googlism from now on, purely because it amuses me and I seldom have real news to share there anyway.
* I was asked yesterday if Houston felt like home yet (or something to that effect), and I had to admit that it did. I've been meaning to write a post on it for awhile without finding the proper words. Why should the shiny green brick in wall that I pass daily (and like to think has some form of magic attached) contribute to my feeling of belonging in the same way as a firm knowledge of the local bus schedule? Why does purchasing a bag of flour or a muffin pan or a framed wall print make me feel settled and all adult-like? Sometimes it just strikes me for utterly random reasons that I'm here in Houston on my own (for all practical purposes) and it's thrilling/terrifying/all manner of other emotions I can't affectively describe this week because my brain is too busy with tech work.
* Yes, did I mention it's the start of tech time, this show extended over two weeks due to the Thanksgiving-ness of next week? Swell. And I'd like to see some lights materialize, seeing as the mainstage opens tomorrow and people'll finally have time for the rotunda.
And then I bought a huge box of Pop-Tarts from Sam's.
A beloved toaster has died of an undetermined illness and/or old age. (The deceased was four years old, unless it was actually the previous property of someone's older brother, and then it was more likely five.) The miraculous unnamed appliance was often fondly used during the groggy breakfast hours, and was the source of several early morning smoke detector alarms. The toaster is survived by half a loaf of bread, most of a jar of jelly, and a decreased list of breakfast options.
After a full week, and noticing the beginning of chips along the edges of the paint, I resumed the chomping of my nails that I've done for the past twenty-odd years of my life. Even allowing for the short pause of time in my biting habit, that first crunch back felt akin to what I imagine smokers must feel returning to their first cigarette in a long time: so terribly satisfying, and just the beginning of so many more to come.
Today I am officially twenty-two and a half, which is important to the world only because I am also basically seven. I plan on eating half the giant Kit Kat bar sitting in our kitchen from Halloween, rocking out the flipped hair, and perhaps buying something off of Half.com. (Hey, I like justifying the things I would do anyway by putting some sort of outside motivation behind them.)
I have joined the ranks of cable subscribers, and--through whatever special was kicking last month--have up through channel 822 worth of brain-decaying fluff (plus the history channel!). I can rewind live television, move a picture-in-picture around the screen, and watch early '90s movies in Spanish.
Looking for something unchallenging to fall asleep to (don't we love when I post when I can't sleep and therefore take things too personally?)
If someone's collection is clearly alphabetized, for love of Pete don't stick things back in wherever you can make space. Unless, considering the new friends I've made with the company and the fact that we've already all noticed that I alphabetize, it's been happening on purpose in an effort to see how long it would take for me to fix things.
I crashed on the couch while watching MST3K as my version of Halloween (not feeling quite social enough for another party) and--upon waking forty minutes later with no clue in the world about what was going on anymore--I went to bed at not quite 8:30.
If we can see by the post time, this was not the greatest idea.
Further insult to injury, not including the parts about massive remodeling of our bathroom and the stage with all the history of famous circus clown/cowboy performers (what?), I had been in the middle of a wonderful dream where I drove up to a house in the country and snuck up on my favorite zombie and angelfish, announcing my presence by pelting them both with the best powder snow the Midwest can offer.
And now I'm extra mad that I can't fall back asleep.