Bicycling is fun and efficient, but it also serves as a laziness amplifier. If, like right now, I am very full and tired, and it’s 88F outside, going to work sounds like a lot of work.
As usual, I’m wrestling with a bug. I hate bugs.
That’s pretty much all that happened today.
On Friday my new roommate is moving in, and the Chorallaries are starting auditions again… that’s about all.
It’s beginning to seem like there’s a party after almost every show and every rehearsal. I’m reaching party-saturation.
My parents have adopted a Chinese exchange teacher for the year; she’s living in my room. She brought her laptop with her, to keep in touch with her family and work on her classes. Her laptop, I’m told, does not have wireless ethernet built in, so we bought her a PCMCIA 802.11b card. When my dad tried to install the drivers, the Installshield installer died immediately with a cryptic error message.
This sort of mysterious, total failure is a common enough occurrence with Windows drivers that we have gotten used to it, and after years of experience, we nerds can usually find a way around the problem. But there is a new obstacle in this case: the computer is running Windows XP Chinese Edition. The user interface is exclusively in Chinese, and there does not appear to be any way to switch it to English, even temporarily. This makes troubleshooting extremely difficult. The exchange teacher is not a computer person, and there’s no way she could even begin to translate the interface.
So if you have any advice on how to install balky hardware on an indecipherable unreliable operating system, let me know. At the moment I’m trying to figure out how to do hardware installation at the DOS prompt.
It’s really hard to get on a good schedule after eating dinner after midnight for two nights in a row.
Last night, after the performance, the cast and crew went to Uno’s to celebrate opening night. Tonight, we went to IHOP (also in Harvard Square). It seems that there is a lot of eating involved in being in a musical.
Tonight was opening night for Cabaret. It was an astounding success. Everything finally came together, and I think the audience was truly stunned. In the end, as a wonderful gesture, Greg (the director) handed out roses to all the actors. They felt earned.
That’s not to say that it was perfect. For one thing, the lighting system decided to go haywire 3 minutes before doors were to open, and during one song all the lights suddenly switched themselves off for two seconds. I’m told that none of the red lights were working at all. None of this was noticeable to the audience, though.
There were plenty of minor screwups to go around. I forgot that I have to re-enter in one scene; by the time I remembered, there were perhaps ten seconds to spare and I was on the wrong side of the stage. I entered in time to sing my solo in the song, but the conversation I was singing no longer made any sense because I was in the wrong location. It could have been much worse, but I suspect at least a few audience members noticed the problem.
Tomorrow, with all the first-run problems ironed out, will be even better.
From an e-mail sent to the cast
Everybody break a leg tomorrow (not your own, preferably nobody in the show)
To make my moustache visible from the audience, it has now been colored brown with a makeup pencil. Now I look even more like a stereotype from the late 1970s. Hopefully, I won’t wake up with a brown smear all over my face and pillowcase.
I somehow got roped into priming the set. How do you get primer out of jeans?
Responses to the moustache have been intriguing. The most common reaction has been puzzlement, followed by the question “did you have that moustache the last time I saw you?”, with the implication that I must have grown a full moustache in the two days since they last saw me. My presence without the beard somehow eradicates the memory of it. Many people have asked me if I dyed it blond, even though it’s the same color as the last time I saw them. When I told my advisor it was for a play, he correctly guessed that it is “a period piece”, so I must have cut it correctly. My roommate took one look and said “Heil!”.