Thrilling whisker-tingling moment to be inside the Lansburgh Theatre at last. I was met at the door and escorted to my private dressing room. There was my name on the door.
It’s spacious and even has an equity shower, though they should have considered my tastes more fully on that one. Water? Ugh. I especially love the bank of mirrors with lights where I get to take in my bodacious self as I stride across the make-up table.
My cat wranglers had brought a few accessories, nothing too special but enough to make me feel at home. I tell you, like Liz Taylor who came before me, I’m a girl of simple tastes – diamonds! Please note this diamond choker for my theatrical debut.
It’s a positive beehive of activity here, and I’ve met a veritable army of assistants who run the show off stage. I feel their energy and support and am assured they are my adoring fans.
Down the corridor that leads to the dressing rooms are the wardrobe for costume fittings, a room for wig fittings, etc. But to be obliging, I brought my own Cleopatra headdress, just in case Michael wants to read me for my next role. A cat-tress has to be ready – always.
I’ve set up my place backstage near a monitor where I can catch some of the show. You can see me getting into character before my first entrance.
Today, I’ve had two interviews thanks to the PR team of Shakespeare Theatre. They’re crackerjacks. And they know how to promote my ‘rags to riches’ story. I believe I can inspire others. Hang in, and believe. Once you get just a paw in the door, make every moment count. And do prick up your ears to learn from the likes of Michael Kahn. Oh yes, and find your light. That’s it, loves, you too can be a star.
Cuddling up with Lisa Dwan backstage. Aren’t we lovely together?
But oh, how long these tech rehearsals go. Enduring hours waiting and more waiting takes nerves of steel. I swear I can’t be faulted when one night I signaled my displeasure with a low growl, then a dramatic moan. It was a warning. They don’t want to cross this diva!
As if this wasn’t enough indignity, wranglers (Thing 1 & 2) insisted I sit for a shampoo and blow out.
Well, it was an ordeal, and I drew blood!
My hair-stylist Rebecca recovered sufficiently, and we made up.
Thing 1 (Wrangler Sue) was not so lucky.