Back to the East Coast

Crew Guy: How's the show going?
SM: Well, we've got some loud kids...
Crew Guy: It's New York.

True dat, my friends. We've been rerouted, taking over Encore 3's route for the week, which took us to Long Island on a waaay too early morning the night after the Truck Debacle. We were at Queensborough Community College, which was a fine space, and an easy enough load-in, and the Crew Guys had accents thick enough to cut through lox, which was enjoyable. And yet, even a trip to the College bookstore with Ichabod, Frog and Soundboy to buy The Tales of Beedle the Bard and not one, not two, not three, but FOUR wild cherry diet pepsis wasn't enough to fully wake me up.

The audience, however, was far from dead. SM decided to bust out the "loud and rowdy" emergency speech for the first time, which I guess was good, but I was sad it cut down on the fun comments, such as when a couple girls yelled "Hey hey hey!" when the TellTale Narrator (aka Brom) took off his jacket.

Man, we just cannot catch a break this week. For whatever reason, the sound was totally messed up. Poor SoundBoy - it wasn't his fault (I don't think), but he must have been miserable. He's sick anyway, and spent all of the Truck Debacle night when were stuck in the van asleep on a pillow in my lap. It was comfortin, in a weird way- like having a very large cat who smells like cigarettes and 20 year old boy. Anyway, the sound came out verrrry verrry quietly - like so quietly we could barely hear it onstage, let alone in the house. This resulted in SoundBoy trying to do some of the cues himself, like making clicking noises with his tongue for the hoofbeat sound cue. It also resulted in one of my favorited improv-ed moments. Frog, doing his Schoolboy dance as Katrina's Rustic Admirer, felt like he needed to fill the silence, shimmied over, shouted "Ya like that?", plopped down on the bench, and promptly hit me in the boobs with the bouquet. Surprised, I immediately looked at my boobs, then looked out at the audience in horrified giggleshock, and we all had a moment of boob giggles together. It really wasn't that saucy, except that the number one rule of children's theatre is NO BOOBS. You cannot acknowledge boobs. You cannot see a hint of boobs. You cannot even see shoulders, as they are too close to boobs. That's why all my costumes have giant bows over the boobs. If anyone accidentally touches or references them, it's not about the boobs, it's about the bows. (Except for my Necklace ballgown, which has a silver lace cleavage blocker.)

Today we were in Springfield. I have now officially completed the entire Small Squad Co-Ed Competitive College Cheer Circuit - for the second time. We were in the Symphony Hall (not the Basketball Hall of Fame this time) which was a nice space. It was sort of Federal-architecture style, and there were Christmas garlands up, but everyone is just kind of testy and grumpy and sick of eachother and freaking EXHAUSTED so it's hard to enjoy anything. The show was good, and it was a pretty easy day.

Now, Repercussion Number A Million from the Truck Debacle is that Brom and Other Actress are now no longer the truck. Keeping in mind that The Office lost Frog's trucking license, this means we are now down to only 5 truck drivers. Which SUUUUUCKS. Because I freakin hate driving the truck. Luckily, Ichabod volunteered to sub in for Brom (who was supposed to be my nav) AND on top of that, even offered to drive. Don't let the curmudgeonly exterior fool you - it's all a front. He's the best.

After a minor truck-wouldn't-turn-on panic, we made it to Worcester. There's not much to do here. Not that we have the energy to do much. Most of us took a field trip to Target, where I discovered, unfortunatley, that not even snowflake bras and hot cocoa undies can warm my heart.

Not on a rainy day in Worcester, any way.