I did the show tonight. I did pretty well, except for the singing bit. Ack. I have a brief solo in one of the songs, maybe 8 measures or so. I think a frog could have sung it better than I did this evening. People were lovely, saying things like "oh, you sounded fine" and "i didn't notice." They lie. Clearly. I try not to be a person who speaks ill of myself to get others to compliment me, and I try to take a compliment gracefully, but when I just barely manage to croak the words out, and some of them clearly were not on the right note, well... you can tell me the truth. It was rough. But then I have to remember... it was 8 measures. In a song nobody really cares about anyways. It's not what the audience is going to remember.
Although, as I said to the fabulous gentlemen who plays my husband "Alas. I know Hal Prince is out there tonight and he was all set to give me a role on Broadway, but then he heard me sing and said "forget her!""
Perspective is a lovely thing. I worried about that piece all night, and now it is over, and no one cares about how those few measures went but me.
Tomorrow is our last show. Hopefully my voice will be a bit better. And I remember. This coughing like crazy thing? It's how the soprano in my opera lost her voice. But I don't think they're going to fly a replacement in from Spain for me.
Monday's mission is to write a post in the style of a children's story or poem.