Learning to drink like a Scotsman (or) Eff Off, Chekhov.

Whiskey cures colds.  Well...until the morning when you notice it again.

Last night was a well deserved, if not slightly excessive night out.  I'd feel bad about it if I hadn't earned it.  The Chekhov project is finally finished and from what we hear from last year's class, it was the most difficult part of the course.  That's good to hear. 

If I've learned anything (and I've learned quite a bit from this) it's that I definitely have my own way and needs to prepare for a performance/showing.  And I don't do well when I am forced into someone else's way of preparation.  For me, I've learned that I do massive amounts of work from Day 1 so that by the day of performance, I do very little.  Because I am such an over analytical thinker, if I dwell or over rehearse on the day of, I freak myself out.  Which is sort of how I felt yesterday.

I got to the studio at 9am for some yoga, vocals, and zumba.  At ten we all met together and had to do more warm up and long exercises.  I didn't really want to, I'll admit.  I like to warm up with myself or with a small group and then do about ten minutes with full cast to get connected to each other.  But hours of "warm up" when lead by someone who doesn't understand your needs and doing full concentration exercises just makes me tired and irritable. 

We did about 2 1/2 hours of that, singing that Russian song they taught us, or doing a mass scene run through (which they didnt even get to my scenes).  By the early afternoon, I had the biggest need for a nap and a drink.

As for the actual showing,  I thought our cohort did a fantastic job.  The progress from Tuesday alone was incredible.  I, myself, was a bit disappointed in my performance and have had a small problem letting that go.  It wasn't a disaster by any means.  But it was the first time in two months that I felt I pushed and indicated.  I've made so much progress and now I felt as if I had slid right back to my own bad habits.  And regardless of circumstances, other people, the baby gurgling in the front row, there's no one to blame but myself.  So, ok.  Good.  Lesson learned.  Never get too comfortable, concentration is a skill that needs practice, and never get too big for your britches.  It's a good reminder as well that there are no guarantees of a good performance.  Sometimes you hit it, sometimes you don't.  Humans are unpredictable, and therefore so are your shows.  But it's in the training that you can maneuver whatever issues you come up against (i.e. bad mood, bad hair day, bad back, bad direction, or whatever) so that you can keep the train wreck contained to a slight fender bender.

As a result of such a day, most of us met for dinner to celebrate AL's birthday as well as to tell Chekhov to Eff Off.  We went to a really awesome Russian restaurant that had incredible food.  ...and liquor.  Then some of us went to a bar/club that also had good liquor.  And after forgetting how many good liquors I had had, and it being about three in the morning,  LY and I walked to our favorite chips place for fries and plopped ourselves at home.  I REALLY must stop walking home that way if I go out.  It doesn't matter how many sit ups or yoga poses I do,  those french fries are still bound to make my tuckus bigger.  Sigh.  Gotta get back on track.

So today I'm cleaning that disaster that is my room, reading plays, doing monologue work for the audition next wednesday, and watching an obscene amount of AB FAB and French & Saunders seasons. Time to change focus for what's next.

I'm coming home for xmas in exactly a month.  Despite missing my family,  I'm not all that USA homesick.   Maybe once or twice for hangover taco bell food.  Or country music.  Or a Broadway show.  But for the most part...yeah.  Not much is missing from my life here.   It's nice.