Feeling: invigorated
Listening to: Augustana - Boston
Reading/Watching: Frost / Nixon

Lights come down.

My cell phone is off, and I'm so nervous I want it in my hand so I can call my friends one more time to make sure they found the theater okay, that they're in their seats, that they're going to moo at the right time.

Drumbeat. Scramble through the door, saunter down the steps and try to make it look effortless in those ridiculous strappy four-inch heels. The choreographer told me Maureen probably lives in her FMPs (****-Me Pumps), so I need to practice until it doesn't look awkward. I'm five-foot ten and built like a German tank. For over a month, it looked awkward.

Leap off one platform, scoot onto another, plant my ass and "hit" when we get to the downbeat. Mark begins his opening monologue, and I tense, prepping for the moment when he says "The power blows" and we all dive for our position in the choreography.

Act 1 rambles along. I change out of black leggings and a blue turtleneck, and into a microscopic pleated leather skirt, with lime-green fishnets and a matching bra. The director made a tight cowprint vest to go over it, as a nod to my belly-chub issues. My hair is so curly and fluffy and parted so far to one side that I look like I've been transplanted from twenty years ago. Which is the idea.

Launch onto the stage. Step up on the "soapbox." Last night, I had a dream. I was walking through a desert called Cyberland...

The audience laughs. The audience claps. The audience moos. My heart is pounding, and my nose is so stuffed up I can't breathe. There is a trickle of snot coming out of my left nostril, which is ever so sexy. Yay for tech week colds. (Kudos to the roommate, Will, who made dinner for me and brewed a lemon concoction to help with my voice.) I blow my nose, thus ensuring that the last of the foundation on my nose and upper lip are completely gone, and saunter once again into the stage lights for La Vie Boheme.

We finish the song and dance completely covered in sweat. The audience goes nucking futs.

Tonight's another sold out show, and Will is disappointed because he can't get tickets to see it again, the kids are joining me for one last opera this afternoon, and next week my entire family is coming into town to watch me scream, moo, dance around in fishnets, and make out with women.

Life is so. fricking. good.

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