If you ever want to test your sanity, your immune system, and your bank account all at the same time, I have the perfect recommendation: produce a solo show at a Fringe festival.
Right now, I am in Washington, DC, getting ready for my East Coast debut at the District Fringe Festival. I’ve performed solo shows in a completely different country before, but this time around, the universe decided to test me like never before.
Here is a brief snapshot of my pre-show itinerary:
1. The Sleep Deprivation
It started about two weeks ago with a sudden, agonizing skin breakout. For no particular reason, my face became red, itchy, and swollen. It led to completely sleepless nights and frantic, expensive, out-of-pocket doctor visits right before my trip.
2. The Projector Saga
Apparently, the universe decided a medical crisis wasn’t chaotic enough, so enter the tech nightmare. When the festival’s producer packet arrived, my heart almost stopped. It read: “We are unable to accommodate projectors of any kind.”
Whaaat?! If you’ve seen my show, you know how vital the projector is. It’s not just a nice addition; losing it felt like losing a main cast member. I requested it clearly when I submitted my application, and we had even discussed it. You can’t deny it now! With nothing left to lose, I sent a formal petition letter to the organization. After a few more sleepless nights, they finally relented under one condition: I was entirely on my own to provide the gear.
3. The Plan B (and C) Shipping Disaster
Great, I just needed a projector screen. But how? I couldn’t exactly travel across the country with a massive screen, and I am definitely not crafty enough to build one from scratch. So, I bought one online. It had 10 days to ship—plenty of time, right?
Wrong. A few days before the estimated arrival, I got the dreaded notification: Shipment delayed by a week. That meant it would arrive after my tech rehearsal and opening night.
Time for Plan B. I canceled the order, found a different item from a totally different company, hit purchase, and spent the next few days obsessively refreshing the tracking page… until it finally arrived at my friend’s house. Phew, the saga is over!
Nope. When I saw the delivery confirmation photo, my heart stopped again. The box was humungous. Like, reaching up to her second floor humungous. How on earth was she going to get it to my Airbnb? How was I going to carry this thing to the venue? Yes, it was my fault. I didn’t read the specs. But who would have thought that a foldable, “portable” screen could be that huge?!
There was a moment during all of this where I had to ask myself: Is the universe trying to tell me something? Is this a sign to quit?
But here is the thing: life isn’t interesting because everything goes perfectly. It’s interesting because of the absolute chaos of the unexpected. If every show had a perfect flight, flawless tech, and glowing health, the victory wouldn’t taste nearly as sweet. The hurdles are what give the story its texture. They force us to dig deeper, find our grit, and walk onto that stage with a sense of defiance.
At the same time, the chaos reveals who is truly in your corner. Amidst the madness, I found myself surrounded by people rooting for me—friends promoting my shows, checking on my well-being, sharing medical references, and sending over the exact skin creams that worked for them. I watched a friend somehow cram that humongous projector screen into her small car, driving it through notorious DC rush-hour traffic just to get it to me. I even have my partner-in-creative-crime, the Design Jedi, flying in from another country to support my shows. Whenever a problem popped up, my community offered answers.
I “fought a mountain of nonsense” just to stand in front of this microphone, but I didn’t fight it alone. I feel so much love from all of you. Thank you.
So to anyone out there dealing with their own version of a missing screen, a sudden rash, or a logistical nightmare: don’t let it stress you out. Lean on your people, grab the steering wheel, laugh at the absurdity of it all, and welcome to the show. It’s going to be a wild ride.
P.S. The saga still continues. And the count is still going…