Another closing of another show ...

... and I'm down in the usual post-show dumps.

The word often used is bittersweet, but that always makes me think of food. It's not strong enough for the emotions one goes through at the closing of a performance run, especially one as amazing as the run "Pride and Prejudice" just had. Two weekends sold out, and at least one sold-out show each of the other two weekends. There were a bunch of people saying they came back a second time (and they weren't spouses or family.)

I think I'd lean more towards manic-depressive as a description? I have to put more thought into that.

I'm grateful to have my "life" back. There are many things that have been taking back seats as we got closer to opening the show and during the actual performances. I haven't been practicing my new exercise routines as much as I usually do. At the very least I was pretty distracted while practicing backstage in the green room almost every performance night. (And several of the other actors and crew would join me every once in a while. I had my own chorus line going!) I need to get the garage clean and organized for the dojo. I need to bug spray the house. The list goes on.

But I got rather attached to the group of people I spent so much time with the last couple of months. Many of them were strangers to me when we started. It took weeks to learn everyone's real name instead of their character name. And then last night most of us went out karaoke-ing and have a blast. We want to make it a regular thing (much like us "Spitties" did after "The Spitfire Grill" closed.)

I got to work with people I already knew, and with people I wanted to know better or hadn't had a chance to work with yet.

I got to prance around the stage in fancy dresses with my nose in the air and speaking in a British accent. (I even got a compliment from someone with a real British accent!)

So my mind and emotions are at war for dominance: relief at life returning or depression at the ending of something special. Eventually the depression will pass and I'll be content with the memories: my nickname for my onstage brother when he accidentally called me his daughter during a show ("Dad!"), our own secretly added lines whispered behind the curtains ("Consider it dropped"), songs sung on our karaoke night ("I Got You, Babe"), and so much more.

I better be happy with my life being returned to me. The auditions for "Nunsense II" are coming up real soon ... ;>