Beauty and the Beast

It's opening night tonight. We've had dress rehearsals for the last 2 nights that have gone from 7 until after midnight. I'm loopier than Belle's ringlets. Proof, you ask? Your wish is my command (damn, wrong Disney show):

• I go to sleep singing "Be Our Guest" and wake up with "Gaston" pounding in my head.
• This morning I got a call from a telemarketer. I was super nice to her on the phone. Why? She sounded like Mrs. Potts.
• I may or may not have a crush on the Beast. Not the actor playing Beast, mind you, but the Beast character himself. I guess I like my men big, cranky and hairy?
• The AC keeps shutting down in the theater at 10:00. I've taken to compulsively singing "Good to be Human" as "Good to be Humid" under my breath by 11:15 or so each night.
• I'm still getting creeped out by the human chandelier. Yes, I know she's no different than Lumiere the candlestick or Babette the duster, but when she comes down from the ceiling on those wires, she reminds me of something straight out of the Exorcist. Ok, maybe the Exorcist as interpreted by Isaac Mizrahi in a festive mood, but still.
• I keep giggling at the body mics they have attached to each cast member. Many of them snake down the performers' foreheads looking like a lovely bindi. Let's hear it for Beauty and the Beast Bollywood style! Thankfully, I think the audience is far enough away not to notice.
• I have formulated a solid conspiracy theory that Alan Menken, the composer, obviously got dumped by a piccolo player at least once in his past. Why else would he put that same hellish double-tonguing lick in the show several times, and in the frigging ever-repeating "bow" music at the end?

I'm not sure which would be more effective for me at this point- serious therapy or just a good, long nap.

The show should be terrific, and I'm having a ball, sleep-deprivation notwithstanding. Break a leg!