I went to the pizza party after the show tonight. They have one of these for every show, inviting cast and crew. I go. I eat one slice of pizza. I find one or two other musicians and stand in some corner of the room and yak for a while. It’s noisy, so I have to talk loudly, and my throat always hurts. Then I leave before nearly anyone else. And I always wonder, “Why did I go to that?!”

And I have no answer.

I’m not good at parties. And I’m exhausted after a show. I don’t know any of the cast, I’m not one who wants to connect with the “stars”, and they certainly aren’t interested in talking to orchestra members. We have nothing in common, aside from a show. With this show I don’t even recognize most of the cast, since I only saw them in our first “singers included” rehearsal (do they call that a sitzprobe for musicals too, or just opera?) and then the first few staged rehearsals. Then they covered the pit and we became disconnected from them.

So now I’m home, and I’m even more tired than I normally am. Wouldn’t you know?

Ooh. I’m whining. Sorry! I think it’s the smoke. We have some fires in our Santa Cruz Mountains and I’m very weary of inhaling this smoke.

So good news: the main reed was a happy camper. The second reed—used for louder parts that don’t matter quite so much—was being a bit rebellious. Maybe its just angry about being second. I wonder. But since it doesn’t matter so much (sorry, second!) I really don’t care. As long as I get the solos and don’t make any errors that the audience would notice I’m just fine and dandy.