The theatre in Tucson: 2,000 seats
Ever heard of Google?
Ok so I am seeing a trend. I go to a city, walk it for the first 2 days, take 5 million pictures of telephone poles and wig shops, and then (sound of car breaks screeching to a halt) I don't do shit the rest of the time I am in that city. The last day of the week comes around and I think "Oh, I should have looked online for stuff to do in the city."
So this week has sucked. Those reviews got into my head, did back flips and made me perform so poorly I almost fired myself. Basically, I thought I was doing well in the show for the past month or so, and then out of nowhere these 2 reviews hit me like a step-mom and I fell off the talent pedestal and into a pile of dinner theatre auditions. I questioned ALL of my choices and started to not trust any of my instincts. Were the reviewers right? Was I actually walking on stage and making the whole song about me and my "ad libs"? I didn't think so. But then I did. And then I wondered how I could put more focus on the story and not my "ad libs." I have no idea. I mean, I didn't think the ad libs were all that bountiful. So, I stewed in my own wretch the entire week, meekly sliding on thigh-high gold boots, a purple headband and a cape made for Queen Elizabeth (or Madonna) and trying to not ad lib, not be so "swishy" (as Variety called me) and focus more on the story. I of course was horrid.
I got sick last night. During the second show, my tummy sucker-punched me and the whole night was in teensy-weensy pain. It kept me up late (2am) and then woke me up (4am). Then when i was supposed to wake up (6:30am) I slammed the snooze button down so hard I woke up my cat in Orlando. Her name is Moomers by the way.
I finished reading Steve Martin's autobiography that only covers birth through the end of his stand-up career. I took one thing away from it: I am lazy and he was not. Meh.
Working on it
I had a convo with Dinger, my friend who's gonna direct me this summer in rehearsals for Improv Cabaret. If (a) we actually do rehearse and (b) we get something good going and (c) the producer in NYC who spoke to me about it in September 08 still wants to watch me do a performance of it for him in NYC, then hey. Maybe I can get a show in NYC! DeHaas? You listening? Screw Bush Gardens. We're going to off-off Broadway.