A Good Dress Rehearsal

There is nothing like sitting with a laptop on one knee and a kitty on the other (of course I have a cat -- haven't you all guessed by now?), with my feet in warm fuzzy slippers and a big bowl of chocolate ice cream (with peanut butter and caramel swirls!), after an ideal dress rehearsal.

Nickel and Dimed will be a good show. The pieces have come into place, and we get our first audience tomorrow. The official opening is Wednesday, but tomorrow we are inviting a large group of civil service workers (read: maintenance staff) to attend a special, "honored guest only" performance.

Before I let myself get too... I don't know, complacent or something, I should consider this: my university hosted a guest director this semester, and her play opened last Friday. I saw the matinee on Sunday (between my own rehearsals), and -- although my play is good and I'm quite happy with it -- the difference between the two works was astonishing and humbling. Hers looked like a detailed oil painting and
made mine look like a crayon sketch by comparison.

So... there is always something more to work towards. But, tonight, there is ice cream.

A side note on yesterday's post: I discovered the source of the familiar Indian cooking smell and am surprised no one suggested it in the comments (maybe y'all were just being polite). It wasn't the bags from Namaste Grocery. It was me -- my own skin. Interesting. Now I suppose I'm wondering if it's as obvious to other people. And how that will smash up against (or deconstruct/subvert, if we're playing the lit theory game) the old "Indians smell like curry" stereotype. Because -- at least today -- this gori girl does as well.

And -- if you'll forgive her -- she kind of likes it. It's a nice smell.