Every time I complain about having [too much] work, an angel dies.That being said, I'll do my 90th and final Midsummer tomorrow morning, followed by a surely modest closing party with people I love and will miss so, so, so much. Then the next morning begins the next show. Right now it seems like the biggest, the most daunting yet. Adventure.
Also I auditioned for the remake of Nightmare On Elm Street today. O Nurse #2, I FEEL the nuances of your character. You WANT Nancy to have the painkillers. I KNOW.
I think part of the reason I've been so lax about this blog is that I've spent nearly every day crammed into a 15-passenger van with 4 bench seats full of funny, talented, dedicated, delightful and openhearted jerkface actors. Who do things like this:
In the meantime I'm fighting off a cold. "Fighting off" being the part where I am clearly pinned to the mat and being pummeled, but keep spastically jerking my lower back up so I can't officially be counted as down. I even went to see my doctor, a German woman named Collette.
Me: I'm mostly worried about getting through the final performances with my voice so weak from the coughing. I'm running, jumping, and speaking - and the theaters are really large.Yes.
Doctor: Ah yes, and the theaters are very filled with dust.
Me: That's right, they really are.
Doctor: Well. I can do nothing about that. And you should just be glad you are performing, yes?