Nov 09 2007

For once I kind of wish it wasn’t Friday.

Today I am writing copy for an ad in the program for a local theatre’s holiday play and creating a post-card mailer for our services in complying with new Department of Homeland Security regulations.

I have a weird job.

I have my costume finished for the performance this weekend, but I’m still scared shitless. No- literally. I’ve been running to the bathroom every time I think about it, which is often. I totally understand now why people who have had their home broken into also often find a pile of poo on the floor. Really, the thief can’t help it.

So yah- I feel SEXY, baby!

My costume more or less turned out how I wanted. My choreography is another matter. I have a funny habit of doing my choreography in my head instead of dancing it and THEN writing it. I was feeling pretty confident about it until I tried to dance it last night. For the first time. I had practiced PLENTY in my seat while driving but, oddly enough, that turns out to not be the same as REAL dancing. Who knew?

I’m having to make some changes to my routine and I’m afraid that I won’t have enough real dancing time before the performance to get the old (physically impossible, it turns out) routine out of my head and the new one in. It has to be FIRMLY implanted for me to remember when the lights come up and I’m frozen in the glare off of hundreds of staring eyes.

(Okay- maybe not hundreds. But you know how the camera adds 10 pounds? Stage lights add a hundred viewers. Minimum.)

At this point there are only two things comforting me: 1) I saw last year’s performances and I may be near the bottom but I am not AT it; and 2) My son will love me no matter what. He’s not going to see it!

I’m taking a bottle of champagne for after it’s over.