The show is tomorrow. Dress rehearsal killed today, almost literally when a set piece was nearly lowered onto a cast member. But seriously, I’m so excited. It’s going to be so great.
And that bums me out, because I can’t invite everyone I know, and after one performance, it’s going to go away forever. All that work that I did, six weeks of twelve-hour days, for a single 75-minute show. And I was only one of dozens who worked that hard.
Which is part of the magic, maybe? The ephemeral nature of it? Metaphor!
Watching professional theater people work so hard, and be so god damn talented, is pretty much a spiritual experience.
I would work in this industry in a fucking nanosecond. If I were single, childless, 25, and willing to live in a hovel with 4 roommates and eat nothing but ramens.
I still can’t bring myself to spell it “theatre,” though, which may disqualify me.
OMG, the nurse costumes. You guys. Professional dancers in hot nurse costumes. Can you even? Because I can’t even.