Last night at rehearsal, I was on stage when I heard several screams come from offstage right, the area towards the dressing rooms. It turns out that Brooke, Jessica, and Rene were in one of the dressing rooms, an Jessica found two roaches, mating, crawling up her leg. Then they, being the horrible little creatures they are, started flying mercilessly around the room. I could practically hear their evil little Roach Cackles. Great. I think that's the fourth roach we've found. Not only that, but now we're probably going to have a whole gaggle of baby roaches just in time for opening night: tomorrow.

The curtain didn't get stuck last night, either, which is good. My Very Fast Costume Change and the Scene Change Of Satan were...okay. Nothing special, just....okay. Scratchmaster was there again running the spotlight.

Crap! The director called again just now and said that we're doing a radio interview next Wednesday at two o'clock. Great. Just when I thought it was over, noooo....let's torture me some more!

Tonight, another photographer is coming. The director called and she said that he wants to take pictures of the scene were I freak completely out at Jessica, who plays Rachel. I have to get up at four o'clock tomorrow morning because we're going to be on one of the morning shows. That's insane! They expect me to act that early in the morning.

I just hate them! I hate them and their ass faces! They're just ass faces! I'm going to go home and....bite my pillow! That's what I'm going to do!

That was my impression of Corky St. Claire from the wonderful movie "Waiting For Guffman." Rent it today. Theater people especially.

"I know where the roaches come from," I said last night to the cast.
"Where?" they asked.
"Hell," I moaned. "Any place that allows horrible, horrible ceatures to crawl through must lead directly to hell."

They all agreed. So Scratchmaster went into the dressing room to find the roaches and lead them to their little roach deaths. Mind you, Scratchmaster may be pretty disgusting sometimes, but he is be no definition squeamish. So I slowly followed him in, afraid that the roaches were hiding and waiting for me to come in so they could hop down on my head and strangle me to death. But anyway, Scratchmaster is not afraid of furry, ugly creatures, but upon spotting the seriously ginormous cockroach, he said, "HOLY SHIT! Is that it?" I expected Steve the Crocodile Hunter to hope out of the green room and say, "Aw, isn't he a rippa? A real beauty, this one!" He ended up squishng it in his bare hands. Fanfreakingtabulous. Just what I needed to see: roach guts spatted near my costumes that I wear every single solitary night, major holidays included.

Okay, so maybe not, but I still didn't want dead roaches near my clothes.

If I see any more of them tonight, I'll try to keep calm:

"Oh, look, it's my pal the Giant Cockroach. Ha, ha, no big deal, getafreakingshoeNOW!"

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The counter keeps breaking and pissing me off, so NO MORE COUNTER! Mwahaha!