Those Hasty Changes

I'm pretty sleepy today, and that's unfortunate, because I'm not in a sleepy sort of mood. Most of the time, when I'm sleepy, I mind not being able to go back to bed, but I don't mind the sleepiness itself. The sleepiness is something I want to embrace.

Today, however, is different. I want to have a ton of energy. I want to be in a great mood and have a fun day. I'm hoping my friendly neighborhood Diet Coke dealer will be able to help me out.

I got to bed pretty late last night, having spent all evening at rehearsal for a community theatre production of Grease. We open tomorrow night, so the directors were desperately trying to cram as much "do this, don't do that" in before an audience comes in. It wasn't my best rehearsal.

I play Marty, a Pink Lady who is talking about different boyfriend in every scene. But my big scene is the slumber party, when I sing "Freddy My Love" about an adoring Marine who sends gifts from Japan. I love and dread that scene. Love it because it's a fun scene, and my big scene, dread it because of what you are about to read.

Thanks to the script and the directors' insistence, I have to be in the previous scene to deliver one line, ("hey, that's pretty good," which, incidentally, gets skipped every night) and sing "Those Magic Changes" with the rest of the cast. Once the scene ends, I have approximately 15 seconds to exit the stage, take off my shoes, sweater and dress, put on pajamas, adjust my microphone and get back on stage. (The other girls don't have to mess with mikes and have clothes they can wear their pajamas under, so they're free and clear).

It's a little pathetic that I am always the last one to show up at my own slumber party.

Last night was the first time I had to work with the mike, and boy was it fun. In my rush to get changed and back on stage, I hastily clipped the mike to my pajama shirt and it didn't stay. It fell inside my shirt, right into a little undergarment the Germans call a "Buestenhalter." Luckily, there was lots of room in there, because in all the hurried madness, my breasts fell out of the same garment. The good news is, I had my shirt on at that point, but the bad news is, I was on stage. There's no denying that Marty herself is a little loose, but I don't think her breasts should be.

Nevertheless, no one noticed anything was amiss (although the mike, buried deep within the confines of my bra, did not pick up my voice during my song) and the scene went...well, in truth, the scene was crap. But I have high hopes that tonight's slumber party will be better.

I just hope I can stay awake for it.