![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Apr. 25th, 2003 10:27 amI just couldn't stand the thought of writing last night, eventhough I had a lot to say.
I was in an opera! How cool is that? I mean, sure, no singing and for like a minute and a half, but how many people can really say "I was in an opera!" Well, lots, but they're never really people you know, you know? Anyway, it went pretty well considering the technology issues in the space, and that my entire body hurts from spending about four hours cutting and stitching a curtain to create this cool moon effect we have going on. That actually was sort of medititative, perched on a stool just doing that for hours on end, a model of efficiency and precision, needles slipped into the edge of my jacket as I pulled threead off the spool.
Had one of my walkarounds afterwards, although I had been unsure as to my inclination to do so at first. I wound up walking down Park Avenue, and then across 57th, singing along with Bowie tunes and generally laughing at the timing of the random feature on my CD player as I looked in the windows of the expensive stores in a part of the city that feels deceptively normal and comfortable to me. As a child, even though we lived only a mile and a half away, we always "went into town" on the weekends or after school, meaning, to go into Midtown, and be where the tony stores are and have lunch at the restaurants in Trump Tower and shop and be seen as part of the world. When I was older, and these things mattered less, I had a friend who lived downtown, whose mother would yell at her to dress up if she was coming to spend time with me, because if she were going into town, it was important people not think she was raised poorly because she wore jeans. The consensual hallucination of my childhood is a pretty fascinating place.
Anyway, it was at the conclusion of this little adventure last night, that I had one of my celebrity run-ins. Normal New Yorkers see celebrities on the street and in restuarants all the time. I'm so profoundly always lost in my own world though, that I don't tend to. Which means that when I have a celebrity encounter, it's because I've actually walked smack into them. Which is what I did last night. To Rudy Guiliani.
Anyway, I've a day entirely off. And then tomorrow is the last day of the opera. I won't know what to do with myself after (ha! auditions auditions auditions. Interviews, interviews interviews).
Last night the cast went out drinking, after I left, and they realized this and called me but I was home and far away once I got the message. I felt really bummed, like a big loser about it really, even when the facts were that I was tired and I did want to be home. Saturday. Tomorrow I'll be social with them. Yes.
I was in an opera! How cool is that? I mean, sure, no singing and for like a minute and a half, but how many people can really say "I was in an opera!" Well, lots, but they're never really people you know, you know? Anyway, it went pretty well considering the technology issues in the space, and that my entire body hurts from spending about four hours cutting and stitching a curtain to create this cool moon effect we have going on. That actually was sort of medititative, perched on a stool just doing that for hours on end, a model of efficiency and precision, needles slipped into the edge of my jacket as I pulled threead off the spool.
Had one of my walkarounds afterwards, although I had been unsure as to my inclination to do so at first. I wound up walking down Park Avenue, and then across 57th, singing along with Bowie tunes and generally laughing at the timing of the random feature on my CD player as I looked in the windows of the expensive stores in a part of the city that feels deceptively normal and comfortable to me. As a child, even though we lived only a mile and a half away, we always "went into town" on the weekends or after school, meaning, to go into Midtown, and be where the tony stores are and have lunch at the restaurants in Trump Tower and shop and be seen as part of the world. When I was older, and these things mattered less, I had a friend who lived downtown, whose mother would yell at her to dress up if she was coming to spend time with me, because if she were going into town, it was important people not think she was raised poorly because she wore jeans. The consensual hallucination of my childhood is a pretty fascinating place.
Anyway, it was at the conclusion of this little adventure last night, that I had one of my celebrity run-ins. Normal New Yorkers see celebrities on the street and in restuarants all the time. I'm so profoundly always lost in my own world though, that I don't tend to. Which means that when I have a celebrity encounter, it's because I've actually walked smack into them. Which is what I did last night. To Rudy Guiliani.
Anyway, I've a day entirely off. And then tomorrow is the last day of the opera. I won't know what to do with myself after (ha! auditions auditions auditions. Interviews, interviews interviews).
Last night the cast went out drinking, after I left, and they realized this and called me but I was home and far away once I got the message. I felt really bummed, like a big loser about it really, even when the facts were that I was tired and I did want to be home. Saturday. Tomorrow I'll be social with them. Yes.
