Day 134: Highlights and Lowlights

The Freak Show is over. Nine shows, three days. A theatrical whirlwind that has left me with vocal cords resembling ground beef, a dozen bruises and a smashed car window.

The vocal cord burger and bruises are from the show which, as those of you who attended know, involved me ranting and raving at high volumes and then dying spectacularly on the snow-covered rooftop patio of the Epcor Centre.

The shattered car window was from the break-in I experienced late Saturday night. At three in the morning, I left the closing night party to find a gaping hole where my passenger-side window used to be. This is MY PARENTS' CAR. There was glass and car-contents everywhere, but there was no cash in the car, so they didn't take anything. Not even my brand new cross-country skis. Which, I suppose, would have probably been difficult to trade for meth anyway. Whoever broke in left me a couple things, though. One of them was that horrible rotten-jeans-piss smell that homeless folks have. And the other was the frozen-solid water bottle they used to smash my window.

I made $80 off the acting gig and a new window will likely cost me at least $200. Thanks, friend.

However, while my car was being violated, I was hanging out with famous people who wouldn't stop complimenting me. For real. One of my favourite Canadian actresses, Karen Hines, Kristine Nutting from Cowgirl Opera and big-shot writer/director of One Yellow Rabbit, Blake Brooker. They kept saying I was great and hilarious and they loved my physical comedy. "What's next for you?" they kept asking. I sat there stunned, thinking I should be complimenting them for, I don't know, being alive.

Speaking of famous people, Scott Thompson from Kids In The Hall was also in the audience for our last performance. I don't know how much he enjoyed it though because a very drunk person kept sticking a camera in his face and taking his photo.

That's the thing with doing three shows a night: the audiences get progressively more sloshed as the night goes on. Which means the 8 o'clock house is too sober to laugh, the 9 o'clock house is perfectly tipsy and responsive and the 10 o'clock house is full of belligerent f*cks who talk through the entire performance and take pictures of Scott Thompson.