Not a lot of time to write anything substantial today. All my free time went to sketch writing for the new
IA Mainstage show. At work, I costumed A Midsummer Night's Dream almost completely, which was unexpected. The students were super excited for their new digs. I have found that in school play directing there is a distinct kind of science to the production schedule, even in a truncated time period like the ones I operate within. The costumes are neither revealed nor handed off until all the lines are learned and the play has been run at least once off book. Then the costumes are a reward. However, it's my preference to wait until the show has been run
several times off book with me nit picking and nagging the kids until they are almost sick of the show. Then WABAM! Costumes. Something to make the old new, and to rekindle the energy of the production process.
After work Keith and I drove to the MSPCA to pick up a sad package: the cremains of Princess Sabrina Diamond Fluffbottom. I haven't seen Keith in ages, but he emailed me and asked for the ride. I was happy to oblige and sad that I didn't have more time to spend. Keith told me the story of the night she died which had us both close to tears by the end. R.I.P Miss Fluffbottom.
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Three Hole Punch got another positive mention in a blog this week. The salty and dapper
Neil Reynolds of
Code Duello and
IB Mainstage plugged our show's final week.
Code Duello is one of my all time favorite improv shows. I have seen them several times in Boston, and once in New York. The first time I saw them was at the Cantab during a Bastard's Inc. show. I immediately wondered, "If I get good enough will I get to work with those guys?" Even now, I can't believe I know Matt and Neil. When we were all at the DCM last summer 3HP sat for their set and talked about how crazy it is that we have the luck (and blessing) to know them. Needless to say, because my love of their show borders on fanaticism I am floored by Neil's plug and by the kind message he sent to us personally.
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In the interest of full disclosure, I should tell you all that my
13 day stretch of work got a nice little break up on the seventh day, Saturday. I took an early train to work, and after a harrowing experience involving a wheelchair, an old man, a discarded mattress and a can of soup in a plastic bag I arrived at work out of breath and sore, but still early for my shift. Ashley had shown up early too, but found out she was not on the schedule. Because the supervisor couldn't approve a float nurse (due to some program wide belt-tightening), Ashley was told she'd have to go back home. Since she needed those hours and I needed the time off she was easily talked into taking my team for the day. Before I knew it I was back at home cleaning my apartment and writing sketches. By noon I had accomplished so much that I even let myself take a nap before church and then had dinner with my adopted grandparents.
People ask how I handle working so much. The answer is that I count on miracles like Saturday all the time.
