Wait, we’re NOT doing “The Full Monty”? Oh. I…I was confused.

Two-show days, NaBloPoMo. They are a hell of a thing. Especially when, during the second show, your exquisite scarlet skirt comes completely undone during your big number, and slowly falls all the way off in the back, exposing your big ol’ blue-underwear-covered ass to all the old ladies and wee children filling the audience. And by “your” I mean “my.” And by “hell of a thing” I mean “oh god oh god I maybe want to die.”

(I actually had no idea what had happened — despite my daughters laughing uncontrollably at me from their perch on the chaise — until after the song was done, and I turned directly upstage to hand my prop off to Cinderella. The crowd roared, and for one glorious moment, I thought I must be the most hilarious girl to ever tread the boards. Alas, I had merely been upstaged by my downstage.)

Whatever. I played it off like a champ. Because THAT’S HOW I DO. And I got our Prince Charming to completely lose it in the last scene, leading to a solid thirty-second giggle-fest that the audience ate right on up. As I walked to my car in the pitch-black parking lot after, I could hear a family coming down the hill loudly talking about how hilarious I was. I TRADED MY DIGNITY FOR THEIR LOVE. So, y’know, typical night of theatre, really.

In unrelated news: For those curious about the horde of fuzzy insect monstrosities that massacred themselves on my stoop the other night, they are apparently called rain beetles, and were most likely attracted to the bright, shiny porch-light I had foolishly left on, flying at it at full speed, and then, unable to maneuver away quickly enough due to their cumbersome size, thwacking fatally into the door that lay behind. I cannot shake the nagging feeling that they are somehow a metaphor for my entire existence.

I’mma go to bed, and then maybe try to do this show thing tomorrow with at least 80% less indecent exposure. GOALS.

NaBloPoMo 2012
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2 thoughts on “Wait, we’re NOT doing “The Full Monty”? Oh. I…I was confused.

  1. At least said ass was covered in said blue underwear. Many a year ago, I was dating a guy who was in a show at the raaaather intimate City Lights and there was a scene wherein FBI agents strip him down to his boxers in the snow. Well on Opening Night (press night even!) one of the FBI gents got a tad over zealous and got her hands right under his jeans, boxers, and I think a pair of briefs he was wearing under the boxers and just yanked everything down, providing a most-unintended full monty. To add to the hilarity, this occurred about 2 feet away (remember- City Lights) from a row full of old ladies. Poor guy would NOT come out for the gala after the show.

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