tomorrow. . . no, first, today.
today is friday. my fridays are busy days. class from 9-1, work from 1-6, rehearsal from 7-11. every friday. but today is different. . . barely. rehearsal doesn't start until 8. because it's a tech. and also the last hours in the lives of many in our cast.
tomorrow: Doomsday.
10 out of 12
let me explain. sit down if you're faint of heart.
tonight we'll get done at 11:00pm. as we should. at 11:00pm. as it is written in the Theatre Department's Manuel of Rehearsal Procedures whilst in use of the Krannert Center for the Performing Arts. at 11:00pm.
(a note about Krannert: KCPA is a machine above all machines. she runs like a swiss watch. precision to the second. rehearsals have been cut-off mid-sentence due to the tolling of the hour. 11:00 means 11:00. not 11:07. not 11:02. eleven. o. clock.)
so. tonight we'll be done at 11:00. . . but maybe not because our nutcase of a diva director woman thinks she can give us notes until ten after because she's queen of henry-land when really no one likes her because her 'notes' only consist of her scolding us for pointless things and talking about how we all need to get healthy (see note: half the cast is sick. maybe it's because, even if we finish a run at 10, you keep yammering at us until 11:08 and we don't get enough sleep because, surprise surprise, we're dealing with this thing called school for which we have more to do than just your precious little show here.).
so. tonight i'm sure we'll be done right at 11. especially since it's our first tech. it'll go smoothly, without a doubt. smooth.
and then. tomorrow. 10 out of 12. that's hours. 10 out of 12 hours.
begin: 10:00am
dinner: 3-5:00pm
end: 10:00pm
from 10 to 10 minus 2.
i can't help but imagine what a 10 out of 12 would have been like for Gint last fall. 10 hours with Alec Wild. 10 hours of laughing, loving, joking, screwing Jon Hill on a crate, Caroline spreading her ancient and creaking ol' legs, DeAnne dying, Corey being brilliant, Adam and myself making obscene gestures with an imaginary plunger. . . for 10 straight hours.
this one. will be different.
this one-as my darling Alec would inevitably say-will be ass.
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3 comments:
a potentially vaguely consoling thought is the idea of chorus line's 10 of 12?
no? oh, okay. but that one sucked too.
Sometimes . . . I like ten out of twelves. Awkward? It just sort of feels like a lock-in. Like, "Welp, I'm here. And I don't have to worry about anything else because I am stuck here."
Granted, that IS, of course, if you like the cast/director/show.
But I feel ya, darling. LIFE of an ACTOR.
Hah, OOPS. I'm on Austin's computer and didn't know he was logged in. This is Tiffany. And THAT was Tiffany. But there, now you have Austin's blog.
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