Well, the show's over. I feel pretty sad about this, since even when it was a horrible night, the thing was still fun. No more smelly actor costumes, no more practically lunging onstage with Actor P while I zip his dress up until the very last minute, no more dragging those Egypt flats around (thank God), no more preshow madlibs with Intern A and Intern S, no more light check, no more sitting on the floor and admiring StageManagerGuy's smile while he makes eyes at Flatmate M, no more dying of laughter backstage during Actor B's weird vocalizations.
It was a good time, and strike last night didn't take too, too long. At around 1:10 am Flatmate S's awesome boss, ShopGuy came up to Intern D, Intern T, and I and said, "We only really need one of you now, so decide who's going home." D and T said almost simultaneously, "Well, Nom de Plume should go home no matter what. She's been here since 3:30." It was one of those moments when it's clear other people are thinking of you that makes you want to cry. So then we flipped a coin and Intern D went home too. We decided on the way back that we'll bake Intern T a cake or something.
Today I'm going to see The Dark Knight with Intern C and Intern D. Until then I'm sitting in the apartment and reading. It's nice to get a day off.
Forgotten hilarious anecdote from Intern A's going away party: Intern T seeing Middlesex on the bookshelf and freaking out. Apparently it's his favorite book and it changed his life. So I told him my Jeffrey Eugenides story and he rhapsodized about Princeton and the novel really close to my face. Let's just say that at this point in the evening his depth perception was probably a little wonky. It was all I could do to keep from laughing.
Side note: Jane Eyre is my favorite book, but I don't think it changed my life, except maybe inasmuch as I have unrealistic expectations of silent and brooding men.