The Night Before Opening Night

When I lived in New York, I met Flash Rosenberg through The Fucking Cool Women's Society. Flash is an illustrator/photographer/writer/performer and last I visited her home, she was living in the garment district I believe. I'm sure she hasn't moved as she had plastic tubs upon plastic tubs of costumes, props, writings... she had a bin of battery-operated torches a la Lady Liberty. I still have mine that she gave me because I too never know when I might need it.

Flash gave me a piece of advice I have not forgotten for the past, oh, 6 or 7 years. Since I got it. It was something like, "think of your performance tonight as just another part of your day."

I wonder if this is the reason I don't feel nervous anymore before an opening night. It might also be that I just do it a lot more often now than I have ever in my life, but opening night just doesn't freak me out anymore. I suppose I should be grateful, but I do miss that bubbling anticipation.

So, yeah, we open tomorrow. A show that is par-for-the-course Theater Arlo faire, The HMS Pacific Princess Boat is definitely one of the more weird and fun shows in which I've ever participated. I think the thing that weirds me out most about opening tomorrow is that I'm technically still not off-book. I mean, I AM, but I'm in that limbo of "I know my lines better than I think/I DON'T KNOW MY LINES," which is the limbo of which on-stage anxiety dreams are made. I should be more nervous. But I'm not. Because what I do know is I'm going to HAVE FUN. If a line is dropped, everyone in the cast is a talented enough improv actor to be able to get us on the right track. Maybe that's it. I don't know. Don't know if I care either.

If you're in the Twin Cities area, you should come see it. It's silly, it's nostalgic, and it's delightfully odd. In a sci-fi/fantasy way.