For the Best Friend Actress

OH MY GOD.

The show opens in three nights.  The run last night was over FOUR HOURS....  I want to just kill myself, really.  (Not really.  I exaggerate a little, every once in awhile.  Just a teensy bit.  Honestly.  Keep that in mind.)

So, I have a few scenes where I have time to just sit around doing nothing.  Rather than shovel myself into my next costume, I threw on a robe over my underwear, left the wig and makeup on, propped my feet up on a chair, and started to read.  Next thing I know, I have various people standing over me....

Crazy Actress:  So, what do you think of Clueless Actress?  Why is she sitting on the couch in the green room instead of learning her lines?
Me:  (sitting in a corset, with a loosely tied robe)  I don't know. (looking back down at my book, and pulling robe closed.)
Crazy Actress:  Because she spends more time on her phone.  Who is going to cue her?
Me:  (trying to read my book and shrugging in a non-committed way)
Crazy Actress:  And why did the Costume Lady give me this sweater?  What is the neckline supposed to look like?
Me:  (giving up and setting the book down.  Stands and arranges the cowlneck)  There you are.  (sitting down again and pointedly picking up book as the Crazy Actress wanders off, slowly reciting her lines, cuz she is PERFECT at them, of course.)
Clueless Actress:  (wanders in with phone in hand, looking bored.)  Hey.
Me:  (sighing inwardly but smiling)
Crazy Actress:  Oh, is your SCRIPT in your phone?
Clueless Actress:  (blithely unaware)  No.  It's in the green room.
Crazy Actress:  (tutting [I swear, she really did!] and sweeping out of the dressing room)
Me:  (answers a text from Hubby and then buries nose in book again.)
Clueless Actress:  (sits down in Best Friend Actress's chair after pulling it closer to me.  Looks around aimlessly.)
Me:  (noticing that she is not in costume anymore, although we have not even reached intermission yet.)  Why are you out of costume?
Clueless Actress:  Oh, the shirt doesn't fit.
Me:  Oh.  Did you tell the Costume Lady?
Clueless Actress:  Yeah.
(long pause)
Me:  Do you have something else you could wear instead of that shirt?
Clueless Actress:  (long rambling answer that goes straight out of my head, cuz I am sitting there thinking, god, are we REALLY opening on Friday, and really, she cannot at least wear the skirt?  I mean, she is wearing jeans, and a HUGE bulky cardigan over a t-shirt.  No makeup, no hair, not even shoes.*  Oh god we are so fucked.  And then I realize she stopped talking and is playing with her phone.  And I realize I hear nothing over the monitor.  Scene change... which Clueless Actress is supposed to assist with IN CHARACTER)
Me:  (interrupting)  Is this a scene change?
Monitor voices:  Where is Clueless Actress?  Where are the stage hands?
(Clueless Actress suddenly bolts from the dressing room, and I can see the two stage hands rising from their chairs in the green room, slowly beginning to follow her off.  There is the click clack of heels, and Diva Actress comes in, looks around, and crosses to her corner, which I was WARNED about by other performers when we arrived at the theatre on Monday.  She begins to pull off the adorable but clearly uncomfortable shoes.)
Diva Actress:  So, these shoes are hurting.  I am taking them off.  This is why it is tech and not dress.  (she is not in costume either, not the wig, and frankly, not even in practice clothes.)
Me:  (smiling)  I just cannot act when I am not wearing my shoes.  I have to get used to them early on. (trying really hard not to piss her off-- although quite clearly very talented, she is very sensitive, and my sense of humor doesn't always translate to those who don't know me.)
BF Actress: (entering dressing room)  Oh my god-- who is going to stay back here and cue Clueless Actress?  I mean, this is unbelievable!
Me:  (I agree, but really REALLY do NOT want to be in charge of this girl, so I smile)
Diva Actress:  (finishes removing her shoes and sweeps out of the room with her script in hand)
BF Actress:  (looks around and sees that I hung up the dress I helped her change out of several scenes ago. She smiles at me, sweetly and honestly)  You hung up my dress for me.  Thank you.
Me:  I live to serve you.

And I remember why I am doing this.  Because I love my friends.  BF Actress-- you are DA BOMB.

Break a leg, darling!  I adore you, and am happy to work with you.

*- I am a fanatic about practicing in the right shoes.  Shoes affect your walk, your posture.  I get shoes as early in the rehearsal process as possible, and always rehearse in them.  I usually also have a practice skirt as well, or some reasonable suggestion of what my character will be wearing.  You move differently in a skirt than you do in pants, and you move differently with a huge bulky cardigan than when wearing a fitted jacket.  If am wearing a corset in a show, I rehearse in one.  Anyway, rant complete.

Clerics and Divas

My life is weird.

The husband and one of my best friends play DnD, and have pulled me into it.  I mostly get it... kinda.  I am learning.  I mostly play because I enjoy the company and the wine.  The Friend is a true wine lover.  He brings amazing wines, way better than the stuff I stock my (now empty) cellar with.  He and I can put away two bottles over the course of an evening.  And so we roll dice and play DnD, and I sit there smiling with my buzz as we slay the Undead.

Yeah, that is how they piqued my interest.  I mostly thought DnD was for crazy nerd guys.  Friend corrected me in that... or rather, he confirmed that it is for crazy nerd guys, but chicks play too, and it can be fun.  Still, I was resistant and reluctant to try to decipher all the code (2d8+Int mod.).  And so they dangled zombies before my eyes.

I cannot resist zombies, apparently.  So, we are playing this crazy campaign in which we are serving the Raven Queen (goddess of death, but not the dead, an important distinction, apparently), and on a mission to eradicate that which defies nature by not remaining dead.  I am playing a battle cleric.  I heal party members but I also hurt stuff... mostly the undead.  I have been dragged kicking and screaming into playing a second character-- a warlock.  I am basing her on Hermione from the Harry Potter series, but apparently that is going to wreck havoc on the party.  Nerds...

I am a week away from opening the show I have been rehearsing.  The entire process has been a reminder about why I don't do community theatre for me.  Apparently, one of the actresses had a MAJOR blowup last night at rehearsal.  I wish I'd been there.  But she made another actress cry, and upset the director, and has set my friend (a third actress) on edge.  She also threatened to drop out of the show... the show that goes up in, oh, NINE DAYS....  My friend is convinced that I could take the role if that actress carries out her threat.  Sigh.  I just wanted to do my job-- walk on and off, deliver my character and lines with precision and attention, and support the show.

I once directed a production of Our Town here.  The week before we went up, I told the actress playing the Stage Manager to just use the script, which was part of her props anyway.... She got her knickers in a twist and dropped out of the show.  I was the one who came out badly from that-- I was difficult to work with and unreasonable and mean.  She did no damage to her reputation whatsoever.  

Community theatre kinda sucks.

The through line here, and there is one, is that DnD is better than community theatre, at least at my house.  There is more wine and less whining.  There is good company and no dysfunctional theatre companies.  And all the divas are actual characters, rather than divas PLAYING characters.

I really need to retire from acting.  Roll a d6....

The inability to focus

I should be writing.  The Boy has been in school for over two weeks now.  The Husband, although home sick, is upstairs.  I have a new phone, but I figured it out.  The dishwasher is empty.  The library books are read.  The dog isn't bugging me-- she is sprawled out on the floor, not even snoring.  The weather is kinda dreary-- not enticing me to go outside and weed at all.  The house, although in clear need of the vacuum, is not terrible, and there is no one coming to visit any time soon.

So why am I blogging instead of tearing into the book?  The book is done.  Yeah, I have lots of things I can keep working on.  But, I could edit until the end of the world.  I just need to send it out to the people who have agreed to read it.

I am feeling unfocused, kinda blurry even.  I cannot keep from daydreaming.  I have no real desire to do anything.  I am not depressed-- I know what that is.  I am just going through the motions right now.  Part of me knows I need to recharge my batteries.  I have failed MISERABLY at Plan 3-- the whole taking time for me thing.  And this last two months have been terrible for that.  The OAP festival, the wedding, the houseguests, the illnesses, the Husband being gone for ten days and now ill for the third week running.  I am getting to take two days in October for myself, but not until the fourth weekend of October.

People can live for like six minutes without oxygen.  A day with no water.  A week with no sleep.  A month with no food.

How long can a person live without a recharge?  My guess is a long time.  But is it really living, or is it just living?