Repition Makes Me Cra Cra

Show show show show show show show show show show show show show show show show. I'm in a show. And my oh my is it getting old. I remember now why theater can lose its luster so quickly. It's like living in a world that is stuck on repeat. Answer the door. What is it? Packages! Packages for who? Miss Kay? Really? Didn't see that coming. Guess what. I bet the package is a wedding present. No shit. What could it possibly be? I have no idea! It couldn't possibly be a tray could it? No. Not a tray. Certainly anything but... well fuck a goat. It's a goddamn tray. Oh yes! It's sooo exciting to have this tray in the house. So exciting in fact, that I can't help but cry at this tray that I had no idea was going to be opened before my very eyes. Why you ask? Why am I crying? Because, Mrs. Banks, everything about weddings makes me cry. SOB. Swinging door. Fin.

It's only the millionth time we've opened this tray.

Every time I'm in a show (and it has been a mighty while since I've been in one) I am impressed all over again by professional actors. Not necessarily by the acting talent, but by the sheer commitment that comes along with experiencing the same emotions and events over and over and over and over and over again.

This one time, I went to see this play in London called National Anthems. It was a pretty intense performance by these actors, Kevin Spacey and Steven Weber and Mary Stuart Masterson. Actually, I saw it twice. The theater geeks I was hanging around with were really into seeing shows more than once. Anyway, towards the end of the show, shit starts going down. I don't remember specifics, but Kevin Spacey started freaking about about being a fire fighter and rescuing this woman. In fact he started freaking out about it so much, his character began to hallucinate the entire experience in a very dramatic, very moving way. It was super intense! By the time I saw this scene for the second time, I realized Kevin Spacey would pull this shit every night, twice on Sundays. Gross! No wonder he was wearing a sweatshirt that just said "blah" on it when we met him at the stage door. Hell, if I had been him, I wouldn't have even come out until the coast was clear. I guess that's why they pay him the big bucks. So he can freak out over and over and over again.

Not the first time she's vacuumed under his feet...