Well, life has finally cooled out. Somewhat. Two weeks ago my glorious New England retreat ended, and I returned to find Los Angeles behaving like some absurd parody of itself, complete with
post-wildfire ultrasmog and nearly zero public transportation to speak of, thanks to
continuing MTA mechanic strikes. So morning and night I sit in traffic, still without a car stereo, singing to myself. It's kind of nice, now that I've started taking Alvarado street across to campus, to save time. Fortunately, I really enjoy my job.
The big busy factor these past two weeks came in the form of constant rehearsals for the Mighty McPilgrim show last Friday, at a private dinner function for a construction management company. It went well, all in all, despite some sound trouble and our anxiety about performing at
a convention center we'd never seen before. People laughed and clapped, and our improv games went well, so I guess that's all you can ask for. We certainly gave it our best.
I love live performance, but it drains me. We rehearsed our asses off for weeks in preparation for Friday's show, working and reworking material, only to have our focus undermined during the actual performance by forces outside of our control. I keep reviewing those lines I slightly flubbed and the cues I came in late on, even though the audience probably noticed nothing. We're doing this in the name of fun and experience, and I have no regrets. But I'm looking forward to a time when I'll step off stage and feel 100% confident that I just did my best work. I bet I have a long way to go, still.