opening night

It was opening night. It began well - the audience crowded, instruments tuned and ready, actors warmed up and waiting. It ended well - the audience stood, the orchestra played their hearts out, the actors bowed.

But the middle? The play was well-executed. A couple of forgotten lines, but nothing worse. The orchestra, in the words of a fan "rocked." Small riffs were heard that are sometimes forgotten. So the performance? It went well - except for a couple incidences, such as the drummer showing up so drunk he could barely walk. After a couple songs, he fell of his stool, and had to sit out the rest of the first act. We (the rest of the orchestra members) were NOT happy when he walked in. Poor guy. Hopefully he won't show up that drunk tomorrow.

As usual, just performing gave me a bunch of extra energy. But my part wasn't difficult enough to use that energy, so during intermission I was twitchy. I wanted to do something with my hands, but wasn't sure exactly what. And at the end, I knew so few people. I'm accustomed to seeing more people I could talk with, but no so luck.

So with all the twitchiness and there being no one around... I started wanting to destroy something. Shred, rip, slash, anything. I had to repress the urge to find someone to punch really hard. Not that there was anyone there I knew well enough to punch... When I got home, I was still in that destructive mood. I wanted to wreck something, trash something, break or burn or crush. That mood hasn't completely passed - I still want to strangle something. And I'm listening to my angry-ish hardcore-ish music. But as this desire for ruination passes, it is replaced by great melancholy. I feel like crying. Ahhh! I need Olin hugs!!

This is why I should never be a professional performer.