Well.
It's over. It was a long day, though, and I'm pretty tired. Before taking Patrick to the airport, we went to Tito's for lunch, and then after dropping him off, I decided to kill time in Culver City and Santa Monica instead of turning around and driving all the way back home to Long Beach. I went to Target, in Culver City, which I think I've already described as "Hell on Earth," but it wasn't that bad. I was in and out in about 20 minutes (and I spent about $45 in that time). Then I drove up to SM and sat in the park overlooking the ocean and read my book for awhile before heading to the theater.
I will admit it: I was sad that tonight was the last night. It seemed to go so fast, and yet, I know just two weeks ago I said to Bo: "When is this show going to be over?"
No videotaping, after all - they got all the film they needed on Friday. So I was needlessly worried: a familiar state. I did, however, fuck up anyway, even without Charles being there - I made it through the whole show, but at the very end, the very last audio cue: the music for the curtain call, actually - I forgot which deck I was working with, and I hit play on the wrong machine. Fortunately that one had been faded out in the previous light cue (the blackout); so, when I hit play, it meant nothing happened (better that than the sound of rhinos roaring/singing). And my brain was moving very slowly, so that it took me a good 15, 20 seconds to figure out what the hell had happened. Oh, well. Other than that, it was a great show: we were sold out, the cast was great, and, as I said, mostly no mistakes on my end. I wasn't even nervous.
Following the show, I packed up Bo and we drove to the cast party, which was held at Ruthie and Aaron's (I'm assuming that's how her husband spells his name). Ruthie gave me one of my favorite line cues in the whole show: near the end of the first act, she says, quite upset, "I was chased all the way from the house by a rhinoceros!" She phrased it with a very pretty French accent on the "rhinoceros!" It was a nice party, where I drank a can of Modelo and a half (canned beer: not usually my thing, but since I showed up empty handed, I really don't get a vote, now do I), ate a lot of cheese and bread and half a chocolate covered macaroon (I was feeling guilty about that BRC burrito from Tito's). We didn't stay long, as Bo wanted to get home, and I have to work tomorrow (those actors! what free-wheeling lives they must live!). Patrick's out of town, so I came home to a dark house, kitties wondering where the hell I've been all day, and a big pile of dirty laundry.
And I have something new to think about: Frederique asked me if I might do the lights for Quartet, the next show they're doing, by Heiner Muller. I'm still thinking about it, and of course, haven't had a chance to discuss it with Patrick yet. I already sort of miss the idea that I will be at City Garage next weekend, and can't really get my head around it just yet.
P.S. The photos were taken by me while hanging out in the park, reading, to offer up as proof that not everything in this blog is a big pack of lies. Obviously if I'd gotten a view of the ocean in the first one it might be more believable, but as it is, I can attest that yes, that is my leg, and yes, that is my book, and that's the ground in the park on Ocean Blvd. in Santa Monica. The other photo is just of some dude with a camera and a tripod who approached that woman standing there. He came out of nowhere while she was gazing at PCH, right in front of me, and he stood next to her for awhile before asking if he could take her photo. It all seemed very strange to me, but, she did look nice. After he left, some punker kids walked up near where she was standing and proceeded to make out about a foot away from her. Soon after they arrived, she left. That seemed like a good point for me to get going, too.
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