I didn't plan my mini vacation with this thought in mind, but happy Texas-versary, self. I've had mixed emotions about Houston over the past eleven years, but every time the chance pops up, I continue to stay. (I don't think it's just because I have too many books to move, at least not anymore.)
Is the Deeper Deep Magic that all the ways this show tried to destroy me only made me stronger?
Last show this morning. Super expensive and complicated sound board was not receiving signal from computer and no one could figure out way, so we busted out the touring equipment and started half an hour late. (And, with zero direct booth feed and prep to adjust sound levels on the fly to boot.) But, leaving the booth open to the house meant I could hear the audience reactions, and leaving a headset mic on backstage (for additional onstage pick-up) meant I could hear the actors as they lived their backstage lives, too. Thinking back on it (y'know, ten hours later), it was all my favorite things about Grace and the Rotunda that I don't have in my beautiful soundproof booth now.
Anyway. Nothing like a massive problem to get everyone to focus up and put out a great performance.
[...And then I finally was able to leave the theater, and I slept for 2+ hours. It was glorious.]
I wish there was an industry standard number of stupid questions and/or ridiculous emails I could receive from a single actor before I could rescind their audition privileges. "Sorry, Timmy. That's the third time you asked about the audition start time, despite it never changing. I answered the first two instances, but now I'm invoking the 'Stage Manager Ain't Got Time for That' rule, and your slot will now go to someone with reading comprehension skills. You are on six months probation, and we *do* keep a list."
Of all the people who's life you should want to make easier, actors, it should be the stage manager.
the plus of bringing a computer to work is you can answer emails on one while answering other messages on the other - at the same time
* Actors trying to do the fight choreography in socked feet because they didn't want to wear their shoes. It's okay, they're only wielding a metal dagger and a large wooden dowel rod. (This is maybe why the under 14s shouldn't have been in the big battle.)
* A frantic actor tracking me down in the house, because the large puppet just partially snapped one arm. It's okay, the rig still functions and the other leg can still do the proper movements.
* Loud cracking sound less than an hour later, as same puppet slipped a shoulder strap, causing wearer to awkward try to get free ... and accidentally snap the other puppet arm, nearly all the way. This is less likely to be solved with wood glue and gaff tape.
* Shield is actually injuring actor's hand, because irony is at work in tech week.
* Lamppost is finally pulled from its shipping box to be assembled. It is over-glittered, has a warning sticker that its construction materials have been known to cause cancer, and the globe top is broken.
* Got to buy a back brace for a twenty-something, because it's hard to be a unicorn on stilt legs.
Thirty-three has been nothing but stress. [I mean, it's not 33's fault. It's like how 27 was my year of being super awkward. (I look back and cringe about so much that occurred that year.) But still. Anyway. So far, nothing but stress and re-reading favorite books. The one is sadly not helping the other.]
Anyway, back to emails and paperwork. See you at first rehearsal in ... ten hours.
I've had a real desk in my office for about a week, and the only drawer that's actually set-up and full is the snack drawer.
That feels accurate.
Productions I've Worked On During the Past Week, When I Want to Look Back and Remember Why I Was So Tired
* John, His Story / Easter (SM)
* You Can't Take it With You (Production Coordinator / SM that day the SM had the flu)
* Godspell (Auditions Coordinator / Emailer of All The Things)
* Charlotte's Web (moving set pieces)
* Lion, Witch, Wardrobe (SM, preliminary audition emails)
CLERK: Do you want sauce with that?
CLERK: What kind?
ME: Chick-fil-a. Of course.
CLERK: How many do you want?
ME: As many as you'll let me have.
CLERK: [pauses] What?
ME: Or as many as your supervisor will let me have.
CLERK: Uh, ten?
ME: Wow, really?
CLERK: The machine lets me go up to fifteen.
ME: Surprise me, then.
CLERK: [Pauses, again.] Okay, twenty.
He was not allowed to give me twenty CFA sauces. I think we both knew how this was going to end.
However, I did walk out with the equivalent of one sauce packet per nugget, so here's to the fancy ramen and improved late-night chicken nuggets in the weeks to come!
Other people probably already have one labeled "Hannah being Hannah"
One of these days I'm gonna create an email folder labeled "Being a Busybody" or "Pointing Out Mistakes" or "Asking Leading Questions So Others Make the Same Conclusion" for all the times I see something in an email / webpage / memo / general aura around someone and Stage-Manager-Spidey-Sense kicks in.
I wonder, do the DH shudder when they receive something from me beginning with the usual "I was looking at [ ] when I noticed..."?
(Oh, man. The formatting on this post is *all over the place.* I would probably send myself an email.)
I've just placed an incredibly detailed temporary tattoo of a catfish on my left foot.
- Man! I found some weird things while cleaning out Missouri boxes from my younger years.
- This is not the first time I've pulled from my temporary tattoo collection (or applied a weird color of nail polish or dragged out kiddie-ish jewelry or ...). Sometimes you feel a difficult time coming along, and want to try to get ahead of it psychologically. In my case, that equals sparkles and colors (and, yes, catfish) or anything else that can bring me joy when it pops into my head in the middle of a moment of stress.
So. Catfish on foot. When I flex my toes, it sorta looks like it's swimming - and I'll ride on that joy all first rehearsal.