Singing Loudly

I just got a call from my friend, Maggie, letting me know that the opening night of my play was successful. I've mentioned how she is in the cast and how awesome she is, so I wasn't surprised that she called me tonight.

Thanks for taking awhile before going out to the opening night party (lots of companies have multiple parties -- opening night, closing night, and just for the hell of it parties -- to celebrate the show they have staged) that is going on right now. I wish that I could be there for the party, but I'm not too upset about missing the play.

In the past I have gone to see a couple of my plays, but I don't travel to see them. Weird. But the odd dissociation doesn't end there. I know that many artists claim they don't listen to, or read, the reviews of their work. I'm now exception. It just doesn't interest me in any way.

Maggie's review was nice to hear tonight. The theater was sold out, people were engaged, they laughed at the right parts, and by the end she said there were quite a few people with tears in their eyes.

Maybe I should try to find a review of this one, since I haven't seen it in full production.