Live Freaked or Die
I'm sitting in a motel room in the great state of New Hampshire. It seems to be populated by yankees straight out of central casting, all of them kind of eccentric. Or more than kind of. The clerk at the motel told us a really pointless story about Handel's Messiah (which he repeatedly referred to as "Handel's The Messiah"). He is now referred to as Norman amongst the crew.
My injuries have multiplied, but are all on the mend. It remains to be seen whether or not the cut on the palm of my hand will scar. It's pink and shiny now. The bruise on my chest where Matt hit me with a pipe is a nice ripe yellow, and the accompanying abrasion matches my hand. I got a sliver in my middle finger yesterday ( ? days of the week no longer have meaning) off of one of the pipes at the theater. It hurt, and I couldn't pull it out, so I had to slice it out carefully. I never realized how much I used my middle finger, other than for the obvious, until it was encumbered by a big old bandaid. I took it off today so that I could knit, and it looks fine.
I finished two pending projects during the performances tonight (not to be named, as they will soon be presents). It was very gratifying. The mixing console was in the back of the house again, which I appreciated greatly. The board is a kid-magnet, but a lot of women also wanted to talk to me about my knitting. I went to the LYS here, which was an old lady type knitting store, but found wonderful heathered yarn from Maine there. I've also got a hat planned for one of the dancers, out of Noro Kureyon. He has a large head.
About the mixing console---the show has never sounded so good. And probably won't again. We use our rig at the next theatre, which should sound especially bad after this system. The ballet really should invest in an equalizer. And admit that you cannot use only two speakers for the house. The set up here almost sounded like an orchestra (thanks to fine equalization on the part of the local sounhd person and kicking subs), with the exception of the tape hiss during the sugar solo. It's really strange to hear tape hiss on a cd.
Karen and I went to the Shoetorium during lunch today. She was in search of a pair of Red Wings and I was drawn in by the name. The manager, who helped us, was incredibly knowledgeable about feet and the proper fitting of shoes. I finally bought a pair of Birki super clogs, which were pretty cheap since New Hampshire has no sales tax. I've wanted a pair of super clogs since my freshman year of college. There's something very fun about plastic shoes, although I went with a sensible navy.