A Maddog In The Country

It’s 10 p.m. on Sunday evening, and I have spent the last three hours sitting on my sofa enjoying being back in New York, in my own apartment.  And it the most amazing thing, not one person has screamed “Motherfucker”, not one person has made disparaging remarks about “Mexicans” or “Niggers”, the temperature in the apartment is well above freezing, and there isn’t a well meaning mother shoving cookies in my direction telling me to go ahead…”have one more.”  Perhaps you can already discover the differences between my life in Kentucky and my life in New York.  If not, well I’ll spend a couple of paragraphs explaining.

I was hired about six weeks ago to do the lighting for a musical at a small college in Central Kentucky.  I worked at this school when I lived in Kentucky years ago and was very aware of the limitations.  They were however, willing to pay me a decent sum of money to come to Kentucky for 10 days and design the lights for their musical.  They also provided me with transportation from NYC to KY and a rental car to use while I was there.  The school was close enough that I could stay with my mom while I was there and save everyone some money.  And thus I went to Kentucky for 11 days.

This is the longest I’ve been in the area since my father died.  I’m usually only there three or four days at most and in the past year each visit has been less than 48 hours.  This is perfect for me.  I love my family to death but I can only take them in small doses.  And when I say small doses.  I mean small doses.

We’ll start with my mom’s house.  My mom lives in a modest ranch style home that was built in the 1960’s.  She and my father bought the house about 8 years ago.  It was too much house for them then, and it’s way too much house for my mom now.  Unfortunately, I have been unable to convince her to even try and sell it.  She’s convinced that she’ll have no where to go if she does.  As long as she makes the payments, she’s got a roof over her head.  The only problem is it REALLY IS WAY TOO MUCH HOUSE for her.

My mother has never been a good housekeeper.  I didn’t grow up in a house where everything was in it’s place and there was no dust on things.  Once every six months or so, my mom would take the day off work and scrub from top to bottom and the house would be perfect.  For a day or two.  To this day, it’s the mode of cleaning that I use.  I keep things somewhat put in place.  And then every six months or so I scrub from top to bottom.  For my mom though, this no longer works.  She’s almost 70 and not in the best physical shape so cleaning at all causes her great pain.  She does the best she can but it’s not very good.  I’ve offered to try and help hire someone to help her out, but she says no.  She also won’t allow me to help when I’m home.  As you can tell she’s very stubborn.

All of this translates into a very dusty, not very clean house.  Which for me, means that my allergies are in full force by the time I drop my bags in my bedroom.  This trip, I started popping Claritin-D before I got there which helped some.  But still there were several nights that I sneezed well over 50 or 60 times, before I was finally able to get comfortable and fall asleep.  The other reason I have allergy problems at my mom’s house is that her roof leaked for well over a year before it was discovered and repaired.  I would bet money that there is an insane build up of mold in her house.  I’m surprised she’s not sick all the time.  But except for her physical ability to get around she’s great.

My mother is also a obsessive worrier.  There have been many times in her life that she’s become overwhelmed with things in her life to the point of making her sick.  The day I got my driver’s license and drove for the first time by myself, she fainted in the grocery store.  A little dramatic yes, but that’s my mom.  Since my dad died the thing she worries about most is the cost of fuel.  The cost of gas for the car, and the cost of gas to heat the house.  For this reason, she won’t drive anywhere she doesn’t HAVE to go to.  And she keeps the thermostat set on 52.  At least that’s what it was on two nights ago when the temperature outside was 21.  Needless to say, I froze my ass off, and that was with four blankets.  I finally convinced her that I was freezing and she boosted the temp to 62.  Not a lot better, but it was some improvement.

And then, when I get up, there is more candy, cookies, sweets, etc. to feast on than any person needs to have.  My mother’s dining room table is covered with bags of different kinds of candy (none of it was for trick or treat) at least three or four kinds of cookies, then there are pies, chips, ice cream, pop tarts, crackers, popcorn, etc.  It’s a disaster area for someone who likes food as much as I do.  I think I gained 10 pounds this week.  I tried for about the first three or four days until I gave in.  And then I said fuck it.  It was just too much to pass by and not help myself to it.

All of this and I haven’t even gotten to Thanksgiving Dinner.  My mother decided that since it had been exactly 10 years since I was in Kentucky for Thanksgiving, that we should have our family gathering on November 10.  This way I could be there, everyone was available to come and it would be just like Thanksgiving…only earlier.  As of yesterday, I realize that I never want to attend another family function ever.  I just don’t like them.  I don’t like the people.  I don’t like the people.  I don’t like the people.

Any of my friends who have met any of my family will tell you that there is a serious disconnect between me and my family.  It’s clear that I don’t fit in and it’s often suggested that I was stolen as a baby and that’s why.  My friend Michelle has made these assumptions, and my friend Todd is just baffled by it.  So what happens when I get together with my family… I sit around and pretend not to be offended by the bigoted racists remarks that are made.  There is constant talk about the Mexicans who live next door and across the street.  I won’t get into it here, but they are not kind remarks.  It gets even worse when we talk about the “little colored boy” who lives down the street.  Or the “bunch of niggers” that were at the Wal-Mart the other day.   I’m only able to do this for a short time, until I blow my fuse and piss everyone off.

It wouldn’t be so bad (well it probably would be) if this didn’t all take place at dinner.  We are supposed to be having a dinner of Thanksgiving and people are talking about this stuff.  Then in the middle of all this the word “motherfucker” is tossed out 6 or 7 times.   Then Ronnie calls Tony a “pussy” and then Scott gets pissed off and calls Jessie a “prick”.  And then everyone gets mad because Scott is being mean to his children.  Oh, yeah, each and every one of the bigots has bred insuring a long line of bigots to come.

And at some point, I decided I just want to be home.  Not at my mom’s house, but home in New York.  In the privacy of my home.  Where I can have civilized conversation, without insulting half the people in the room.  Where I can sit and be me without being judged and without people thinking that I am better than they are.

And that my friends was the family portion of my trip to Kentucky.  By the way, my mom is NOT one of the racists at the table.  She’s actually very progressive and very liberal.  Which sets her apart from the rest of them as well.  I’ve yet to figure out how that happened.  I do know that it drives me crazy to be there, and to be there for 10 days is mind numbing.  But I managed and I didn’t yell at anyone, and for the most part everyone was happy.  Well sort of.

A Day In The Life…

Sorry about no post for the last two days.  On Sunday I didn’t get home until almost 3 a.m. and had to be back at work at 10 a.m. so I cut my losses and went straight to bed.  I had an entire post figured out in my head last night but the Internet connection at my house was completely fucked so I bagged it and went to bed.  Let’s hope it last for 30 minutes or so so I can get this posted.

Last night I was all prepared for ranting, but I think I’ll save it for a night when I’m a little more angry.  Tonight I’m about as chilled as I ever get.

I had a great day today.  I slept until almost 2 p.m.   I set my alarm to get up at 11 a.m. but slept through it.  I might still be asleep if my friend Jeff hadn’t called to say hi.  I didn’t take the call but it did wake me.  I got up and made coffee and started my day.   I spent the next two hours on the phone.  I called a bunch of people I owed phone calls to and actually got to speak to a couple of them.  And then my friend Kelly called.  She worked with me this summer in Oklahoma and was calling to tell me about her latest adventures.  We talked for exactly an hour, catching up and telling each other all about what had happened since we left in July.

After the phone calls I left to run some errands.  I needed to go to the bank, to Bed, Bath and Beyond, Best Buy, and to buy some jeans.

First stop the bank.  When did customer service people stop saying please and thank you.  I just started banking at Commerce Bank in New York.  I opened a savings account there because I’m trying to restock some of my retirement money that I’ve been living on for the past year.  It’s an account that I’ve put my change in and I’m dropping in 10% of everything I earn from here on out.  So I got to the bank, filled out the deposit slip and went to the counter.  I handed the girl my money and the slip and apologized for not having my account number.  She didn’t even look at me.  She just snapped at me to give her my ATM card.  I took a deep breath and explained to her that first of all demanding I do something was borderline rude.  And that she might try asking for the card next time.  I then explained that I didn’t have a card.  She then grunted at me to tell her my social security number.  I found this interesting, since we live in a time of identity theft and she wanted me to just say the number while I was standing three feet away from two other customers.  I finished the transaction, all the while thinking that I just might need to close the account and reopen the account in a different bank.  It’s not a lot of money but it’s enough that I don’t think I should have to put up with the attitude.

Next I was off to buy jeans.  I only have one pair of work pants and I’ve been wearing them everyday.  Which means they aren’t exactly clean when I have to open the restaurant after closing the night before.  I had put off buying them because I was hoping to be down a pants size before I did it.  I headed cross town to the Causal Male XL store which is the only place in Manhattan that I know that sells big boy clothes.  I got there, looked around while the sales guy was helping someone else.  He finally got  to me and I asked him for a pair of jeans in my size.  When I bought my last pair they were size 46.  I was guessing that I was down to a size 44.  He brought them out to me and I went in to try them on.  They were huge on me.  I was happy to say the least.  I gave them back to him and be brought me a pair of 42’s.  They fit perfectly.  Yippee.  Of course I bought them.  When I was checking out, the girl waiting on me asked if I would like to be on their mailing list.  I told her I didn’t plan on being fat long enough to take advantage of it.  Let’s hope that’s true.

While I’m on the subject of weight.  As of today I’ve lost 51.2 pounds.  I’m finally under the 250 mark.  It’s been a long time since I could say that.  I still have over 60 pounds to go, but I’m getting there one pound at a time.  I just have to keep my eye on the prize and keep up the work.

After the jeans I was off to Best Buy.  Yesterday on the way to work, I caught the head phone cable to my Ipod on the door walking into the restaurant and broke it.  The headphones, not the Ipod.  So I needed to get a headphones.  I found where they were kept and started looking.  While I was standing there and man walks up and without even blinking steps between me and the shelf and begins his own shopping.  And it’s not like I was 10 feet away from it.  There was just enough room for a person between me and the shelf.  I was somewhat taken aback.  I stood there for a moment, cleared my throat and said…”uh, excuse me.”  He turned and looked at me like I had three heads but at least moved aside.  I picked up the pair I’d been looking at and headed to the counter to buy them.

My question is, and I’ve been meaning to ask this of you guys for a while now.  When did we as a society stop saying excuse me.  I’ve been super aware of it for the last several months now and almost no one says excuse me any more.  People bump into you, push you, move you, and not one of them can say excuse me.  And it’s not one particular type of person.  It’s black, white, Hispanic, Asian.  Male, Female.  Gay, Straight.  It really makes me wonder what lies ahead in the world of courtesy.

After my adventures at Best Buy I was off to Bed Bath and Beyond.  I was indulging myself.  I bought a foot spa to soak my feet in after my long nights waiting table.  My friend Michelle suggested it today and I thought, what the fuck.  It certainly can’t hurt.  I got it home tonight and tried it out.  I don’t know if it will help the pain I have while I’m on my feet, but it certainly feels good in the moment.  So I’ll keep you posted as to how it works.

And that was my day.  How was yours?

Ten “FUCKS” and counting…

Sorry about not posting last night.  I was in the mood of all moods and knew that I’d just spend two pages ranting and it would do no one any good.  I’m in a little bit better mood tonight, but just barely.

So why was I in a bad mood?

Well it started when my roommate called to tell me that “Princess” as he’s come to call her had not sent a check for her portion of the utilities.  Princess is the sublettor if you are joining the program already in progress.  She had promised me a week ago that she would drop a check in the mail.  We are still waiting.  Unfortunately, that means I’m responsible for her portion of the utilities.  Which means I have to leave my roommate a check for almost 250 bucks when I leave this weekend.  This does not make me happy.  First of all I don’t have a spare 250 bucks.  Not many people I know do.  Second it pisses me off that she’s fucked me once again.  I don’t remember the last time I got fucked this many times and didn’t at least get breakfast out of it.  All told she’s cost me about 2,500 dollars since this little engagement began.  Not to mention that my roommate has made it very clear that I’m no longer allowed to sublet my apartment.  So in reality she’s fucked me for a lot more than 2,500 bucks.

My bad mood continued when my friend Michelle didn’t call me again yesterday.  Earlier in the week I got an email from a NYC director looking for someone to light his show next week.  It didn’t pay a lot, but it would have been a great credit and there’s a good chance that it will be reviewed in the Times which is a good thing if the work is good.  Unfortunately, I’ll still be house sitting for Michelle next week and I’ll still be taking care of Max.  So the only way this would work is if Michelle could get someone to take Max for a couple of days.  So I returned the email to the director and said yes I would love to do it, but it was contingent on Michelle dealing with the dog.  As soon as I got the initial email I called and left a message to tell Michelle what was going on and told her to call me as soon as she could.

Now for a little background information.  Michelle and her girlfriend Lisa are camping in the middle of nowhere Michigan.  They barely have a bathroom let a lone cell service.  So getting in touch with them is almost impossible unless it truly is an emergency.  However, I was asked, since I’m taking care of Max to leave a message each day so that they’d know every thing was okay.  Just a quick check in, they’d check their messages, and then they’d know all was well.  So I’ve been doing just that.  Leaving messages each day, saying call me as soon as you get this message.  This all started on Monday.  Michelle finally called me this morning.  Five days after the initial phone call.  Seems they haven’t been checking their messages and so they didn’t know to call me.

I was pissed as hell.  Why the fuck had I been wasting my cell phone time to call them to check in if they weren’t going to check their messages.  Why the fuck did they set up the fucked up system in the first place.  So of course she tells me it’s no big deal to get someone to watch Max while I’m in the city.  There are a couple of options that should work.  This message was exactly ten hours after I sent yet another email telling the director that I’d been unable to get in touch with my friends and therefore felt that the best thing to do would be to turn the show down now, before it was too late to find someone else.

FUCK!  FUCK!  FUCK!

Of course I emailed him back this morning but it seems to have been too late.  I’ve heard nothing from him and I don’t really blame him.  Who would want someone as wishy, washy as me doing their show.  So not only did she cost me money, a design credit on a show with potential, she made me look like a complete idiot.  I’m not one to stay mad and for the most part I’m over it, but it still pisses me off that this happened.

So when I got home last night I was pissed.  The dog didn’t come near me because she could sense something was up.  She hid in the living room all night.  And as I said, I would have posted something but it would have just been one long FUUUUUCCCCCCKKKKKK!!!!! and I didn’t see what good that would do.

Just as a reminder.  I’m in NYC this weekend.  It took about 7 hours to drive down today.  It’s supposed to be exactly five.  It rained for the entire trip, and for the last couple of hours or so traffic moved at a steady 15 miles per hour.  If I was in shape again I could have run faster than we were driving.

That being said.  The air conditioner’s on.  I don’t care that it’s 58 degrees outside.  It’s humid in here and I haven’t had my own air conditioner all summer.  And besides, I’ve paid for a month of utilities that I didn’t even get to use.  So the air’s on, the bed is made and in about 12 minutes I’m going to be curled up in my big queen sized bed.  Yippee!

Have a great weekend everyone.

I’ve clicked my heels together…

And now I’m home.

It’s 1:11 and I’m sort of getting ready for bed.  I’ll talk about that in a minute.  I got home around 11:45.  And when I say I’m tired, it’s an understatement.  My friend Pete and I have been on the road since 10:00 this morning.  The trip took almost two hours longer than it was supposed to because of a major traffic accident in Cincinnati and because I-80 is completely under construction in Pennsylvania.  After a while it was almost a joke because we’d only drive 10 or 12 miles and hit construction again.  So what should have taken 12 hours took almost 14.  Ugh.

It also didn’t help that we didn’t get to bed last night at my mom’s house until almost 3:30 and my mom woke me up at 6:30 to say hello and chat for a bit before she left for work.  I did manage to get about another hour of sleep before the alarm went off to get up.  So if you do the math you can see that I’ve only had about 4 hours of sleep.  So you can’t exactly call me rested.

The best part of my evening?  Getting a call from the girl subletting my apartment telling me she wasn’t going to be staying at a friends after all, but would be staying in my apartment.  The call came not two minutes after I was boasting about getting to sleep in my queen size bed tonight.  Not the little twin I’ve been sleeping in, but an honest to god grown up bed.  I could have reached through the phone and hit her.  I stayed calm and finished the conversation and then yelled like an angry man when I was off the phone.  I then picked up the phone and called my roommate to tell him about her latest antics.  He was not surprised.  He’s taken to calling her the “Princess” because she acts as though she’s entitled to the world.  He spent the first 10 minutes of the conversation telling me about new and inventive ways she’s been annoying him.  And then he pointed out per my post last week, that indeed after this experience he would be hard pressed to ever let me sublet my room again.  So not only is she annoying him, she’s fucked me.  Gotta love her.

It does feel good to be home though.  I actually got to watch The Daily Show which I haven’t seen in 7 weeks.  And I got to sit on my sofa.  And just lounge there without some drunk 19 year old actor coming in to be noticed.  It will be nice to spend time with grown ups this week.  That is if you don’t count the girl living in my apartment.  Okay so she’s not all bad.  She just told me that I can sleep in my own bed tonight.  But still it would be nice if she weren’t here.

Tomorrow I have to run errands galore.  I have to go the bank, to the barber, and then just do some normal type errands.  And then come home and sit in my underwear and watch TV because no one will be home until around 10.  I can hardly wait.

And with that my friends.  Good night.

Day Thirty-Four: Oklahoma

It’s of course the wee hours of the morning. If I ever get back to civilization my clock is going to be fucked up for years to come. It’s 4:15 to be exact. I have been looking at fetish gear on this site (VERY NOT SAFE FOR WORK!) I walked downstairs to shouts of dismay. They couldn’t believe some of the things that were for sale. Cock rings, rim seats, dildos (especially the very large ones). I found their reaction to the items more amusing than the things themselves. One 19 year old couldn’t for the life of him understand why someone would want to suck a dick with a hood on. There were other questions and concerns that I found rather amusing. When I stop to think about it I HAVE been around the block a time or two and have played around with one or two of the items that were for sale (and enjoyed it I might add) so it’s not surprising to me that someone might want a hood, or a sounding wand, or a chair to rim in, or a VERY large dildo. Who am I to question what turns someone on.

Today has been a very social day. I got up early…10:30 to have lunch with the director. He was supposed to pick me up at 12:15. He got here at 1:30. Don’t get me started about people who are late. Anyway, he picked me up and we went to a little Italian restaurant that was rather nice and more importantly cheap. I don’t know if I’ve mentioned it here, but the director likes to offer to take me out to lunch/dinner/drinks at expensive places and then make me pay my half. I know this now, so I was fully prepared. Lunch was great and we had the most bizarre waiter ever. He’d met the director once at a party and kept making very strange, weird comments. Nothing out of line, just things to make you roll your eyes as he walked away. It was a good time.

After lunch we drove around and he showed the huge oil mansions that are left from when oil was the big business down here. I’ve never seen so many large homes before. We drove around about 45 minutes. He showed me some other sights, and then we went back to his apartment and sat by the pool and drank wine. It was all fun and games until he got yelled at by the building president for having a glass container in the pool area. I understand the rule, but the guy was an ass in front of a guest. I’d say that pleasant manners supersede the glass rule. I was ready to say something but thought better of it.

After that it was off home to rest. I got here and discovered that I could keep the stage manager’s car so I rounded up some people to go to the movies. I discovered a dollar movie theatre and so we went off to see Hot Fuzz. It’s a hysterical movie. The set up took a long time, so much so I was beginning to wonder if I was ever going to get the pay off. But when it happened it was wonderful. My favorite line in the movie….He’s not Judge Judy and executioner. Maybe you had to be there.

After the movie we stopped at Sonic for a burger. What can I say, I hadn’t had dinner and it was open and I was hungry.

Then it was back to the dorm to hang out for a while. We were all sitting around joking a laughing. All the yungin’s make fun of me for being so old. In fact the one person I like the most out of all the crew…his mother is two years older than I am. Hmmm. Makes you stop to wonder doesn’t it. Anyway, we laughed, we joked, we looked at dirty pictures on line, we joked about the fisting bench (we decided we should definitely get the one with the head rest)and now it’s 4:35 and I’m off to bed. Oh the life of a designer…

One fisting bench with a head rest….and what’s not to like?  And it’s only $79.00

Day Twenty-Four: Oklahoma

“Before I thought you were a just a drunk asshole.   But now that I know you are gay, it’s okay.  You do know.”

A quotable quote from the evening.

I was sitting downstairs a few minutes ago (it’s 3:29 a.m. right now) and an actor (let’s call him John) said that to me.  Several days ago a few of us were sitting downstairs talking and I made the comment that Jeff the 18 year old actor in the show is gay.  How do I know this.   Well first of all he’s a musical theatre actor.  Second, he looks it.  And third, every time he talks to a certain other boy in the show his eyes light up.  And fourth and most obvious.  I’m gay.  I can tell when other people are gay.  Immediately John took offense and said there was no way he was gay and that he knew this because Jeff was interested in a girl in the cast.  I quickly stated that when I was 18 I was interested in girls too and in fact had a girl friend and that almost every gay man I knew had  had a girlfriend at some point in his life.  This all fell on deaf ears at the time.

Well the subject came up again tonight.  But in the midst of discussing this, I commented on the fact that I was gay and that’s how I knew.  Everyone but John already knew this.  But John did a double take and said “You’re gay?  You’re not gay!  Well that’s different.  Before I thought you were just a drunk asshole.  But now that I know you are gay, it’s okay.  You do know.   Everyone in the room burst into laughter and immediately the quote was written down in the living room for us to remember.  It was one of the funnier things I’ve heard since I have been here, although I didn’t like being called a drunk asshole.

Speaking of drunk asshole.  Remember last night’s discussion about the guy who was bitching about the noise and couldn’t say “please or thank you”.  Well it seems he went to the artistic director today about me.  I don’t know everything that was said but he was complaining about my comment, my attitude and my reaction toward him.  I find the whole thing hysterically funny.  The guys 36.  If he as a problem with me come talk to me.  Don’t go tell the teacher.  It’s not grade school.  Besides this is summer stock.  I’m 42 years old and I know that summer stock is about drinking a lot, having summer flings and being loud.  It’s what you do when you are 18 and away from home.  That’s why I haven’t said a word about people being loud in the hallways.  It’s their summer of fun.  Why should I try to spoil it.  Besides, I’m having fun too…so get over it.  Perhaps if this guy would pull the stick out of his ass that’s been planted there he might not be so sour.

Well the show opened tonight.  In a word.  It sucked.  At the top of the second scene (and there are too many to count) the lead actor fucked something up and didn’t sing the right words.  Since he’s the star we can’t ask him about it but it was bad.  This started a chain of events that although were not related didn’t stop until the curtain came down on the end.  One of the female leads sang about two words of a duet she had.  No one knows whether she couldn’t hear the orchestra or if she forgot the words or what but she certainly wasn’t singing.  The other female lead screwed up all the words to her song that opens act 2.  So much so the stage manager had no idea where they were in the script.  And then in the scene leading up to the finale the chorus missed a singing entrance and they all came in at different times.  For someone who didn’t know better they probably couldn’t tell, but for anyone who knows the score it was a disaster.  The stage manager was a wreck by the end of the show.

As far as tech goes.  My lighting crew forgot to turn the hazer on till two minutes before the show.  A hazer is a machine that produces particulate that fills the air so that the audience can see the beams of light in a show.  For this particular show it’s vital to the overall design to see the the light beams.  At 7:55 I ran into the control booth to ask what the problem was.  I was told it was malfunctioning but was working now.  I found out later that malfunctioning meant it hadn’t been turned on.  Hmmm.  I was more than a little pissed and annoyed.  It takes a while for the machine to fill the space so we started the show with no beams being seen.  Then to make matters worse the machine had been positioned wrong and the whole stage right side of the stage looked as if it was on fire and smoke was billowing out.  It’s all I could see all night.  So between smoke and forgotten lines it was a memorable evening.

I think I pissed my crew off after the show because I was pissy.  I basically called them to task on forgetting and not placing it correctly.  I upset them so badly they didn’t even go out to have a drink after opening which everyone else did.  Whoops.  I’m not that much of an ass, but I do expect the show to be run the way that I designed it.

Tomorrow is our first two show day.  We have one show in the afternoon and then a completely different show in the evening.  The crew has about an hour and a half to change the sets for the two different shows.  It mean everyone will be a  little cranky by tomorrow evening.  It just means that I’ll buy beer and try to make sure they are all happy.  It’s the least that I can do.  I mean, I am a drunk asshole after all.

Day Twenty-Three: Oklahoma

I officially woke up today with the cold that’s been being passed around for the last two weeks.  My throat was raw and my voice was two octaves lower than it normally is.  I’m tired and congested and keep coughing nonstop.  This does not make for a pleasant Maddog.  Especially when I still have one show to do.  Ugh.

We had a preview of my second show tonight.  It went well I thought.  The director had tons of picky notes but I wasn’t too concerned with them.  What I’ve discovered with him is that when things aren’t working on the show and can’t be fixed he picks on the things in the show that can be fixed.  Like the lighting.  Some of his comments were valid and things I already had taken a note on.  There were a couple of things though that I totally disagreed with and hate to have to change.  But theatre is not a democracy and anyone who tells you differently is lying.  So tomorrow I have to make the changes he’s requested.

Although I’m not feeling well and I’m tired, I’m not really sleepy.  It’s 2:15 and I’m wide awake.  Who knows what that’s about.  I have been home since about 11:30.  The director has taken to bringing me back to the dorm at the end of the night.  One of the girls on my crew thinks it’s because he likes me.  I certainly hope not.  He’s a nice enough guy but he’s definitely not my type.  So he brought me home tonight and I had a couple of beers with him and the cast downstairs.  We were joking about what the season should be for next year.  We were all throwing out horrible ideas of a season to see who could come up with the worst configuration.  I think the worst was Mame, Joseph, and Grease.  We’d sell lots of tickets but we’d all be miserable.  I’m not thinking we need a little Christmas that much.

After the director left I wandered upstairs and found my ME and assistant ME sitting on the floor in the hallway.  The assistant ME is having man troubles and was chatting online with her NYC boyfriend.  I keep telling her she should just dump him since she really doesn’t want to be in a relationship with him.  But she doesn’t want to hurt his feelings.  Hmmm…is it better to lead him on.  Anyway, I was standing in the hallway when the asshole from next door came out and told us to shut up and go to bed.  Now I’m the first to like it quiet when I’m trying to sleep, but since his girlfriend whose staying in the same room as him had just brushed her teeth I doubt very seriously he was already in bed.  However, what annoyed me the most was his dickish attitude.  No niceties, no please, no thank you.  So as he walked away I said, “I’m sure he meant to say please.”  To which he turned around and confronted me.  He looked like he was going to hit me.  Wouldn’t that be fun.  Trying to be nice and sounding like an ass I told him that for most people please and thank you go a long way and perhaps he should adopt that method.  Especially if he really wanted us to be quiet.  He didn’t take too kindly to this lecture.  Oh, what’s a girl to do.  He finally went a way and I went downstairs.  I heard that he came back later and called me a dick.  Oh, no?  My feelings have been hurt now.  How will I ever sleep?

Tomorrow we start staging for the final show I’m doing.  It’s a show I’ve never heard of and don’t know anything about.  I also don’t know what any of the music sounds like and don’t even know the plot.  It’s usually expected that you’ll read the show before you start working on it.  But all I have is a vocal score and it’s almost impossible to follow.  There’s no explanation of who the characters are or what they are doing.  So tomorrow, while the director’s spacing on stage I’m going to try and figure out what’s going on.  Then next week when we start tech I’ll know if the show’s pink or blue, bright or dark and moody.  At least I hope to know by then.

And on one final note the show we’ve worked on all week opens tomorrow night (Friday night).  I think it’s quite good.  The lighting is spectacular and I don’t say that about my work mildly.  I do think that I’ve done a good job though.  I’ll be nervous tomorrow night at 8:00.  I always get nervous before my shows, but when I really like the show I get really nervous.  I’ll be okay once we get through the opening song.  But until we get to cue 17 I’ll be on pins and needles.  I have to decide if I’m going to sit in the house and just be an audience member or if I’m going to sit in the control booth on headset and take notes.  I want to do both and since I can’t do both I have to decided between now and then.

Everyone enjoy their Friday and have a great weekend.