December 2, 2007

Bluish dawn, one of the cats batting a dish across the kitchen floor. Slammed down Gatorade to get rid of the hangover which seems to have been brought on by one drink–albeit a large one. Now that there’s only one matinee left, I have to admit that I have not hated Broadway Christmas, and was glad to have done it, if not exactly glad at the time to be doing it. The kids were charming; I made friends among the adults, and found that my theatricality can kick in and save a scene even when it’s not my usual idiom and when, as in the case of Mame, I had exactly one rehearsal before the run-throughs began. All is well. All will be very well when it is over. Tom, who plays Cratchit and Daddy Warbucks, is an especially kind man. He thanked a tiny little girl for feeding him a line onstage, and she literally danced for joy.

Ann’s Nutcracker plays this weekend too. I’m better off here. This show’s shorter, plays fewer times, and I still get to play with 10 year olds. The difference between Ann and Chris is the difference between a speeding, empty subway car, intent upon its way, furious, and a meandering family van on a Saturday afternoon, with all the windows down and all the seats filled.

Wrote bits of little plays in cafes, haven’t had a moment to type them up.