Hello from my Dressing Room

Where, as you can see, the stagehands have been keeping up fairly well with my required daily refreshments, which were specified as always in my contract. (I follow the same pre-show diet utilized by Sir Laurence during his Oedipus at the Old Vic. Cheeseballs, diet soda, and Animal Crackers in a Teddy Grahams container.) Although, as this picture also shows, someone has let the Bubba Cola supply run dangerously low.

Provincial sloppiness. I shall have a word in the morning.

No, you're right, you've guessed it. This is my dressing room, but I am no Sir Larry or Sir Chris Farley. These are the edible props used every day during the performance of "Maria/Stuart." See, because the cast is made up of me and five ladies, I get a dressing room all to myself. There's loads of room to store largely recalled food products.



There's also loads of room to look at myself in four mirrors at once, and wonder which receding image of me is the real me, while fighting back a storm of tears.

There's also room to dance around in my underwear to The Smiths.