Sleep Or the Lack Thereof

I woke up last night around 2:00 a.m. and couldn't go back to sleep. Ordinarily I'd read a book or watch television for a while, but I didn't feel like doing either last night. So I laid in bed staring up at the ceiling rehashing every single stupid thing I've ever done in my whole entire life. I've done lots of stupid things, too, so that's no mean feat. The worst of it was rehashing my marriage.

J was (and I assume still is) a really decent guy. We were just too young when we got married and we grew apart. I don't regret being with him at all. And as far as divorces go, mine was really easy. We fought a lot throughout the marriage, but we were extremely cordial while ending it. There were a few fights during the process, most of them having to do with me shrilly rejecting any and all well-intentioned advice on the grounds that since he left, he didn't get to have a say anymore. I think I was right, but I probably could have been a little nicer about things. Anyway, it took me a while to get over the dissappointment of my marriage ending, but I did. And while he's turned up in a weird dream or two every now and again, I haven't consciously thought much about him in a few years. So last night just kind of sucked.

And why is it that when you wake up in the middle of the night, you can't think of all the wonderful things you have going on instead of the stupid crappy mistakes of the past? It's just so annoying. As soon as the sun came up, I was all "enough of this--I have the best family and friends a girl could ask for and life is actually pretty damn good," but before all that I was just so depressed.

The end result is that this morning I have dark circles under my eyes and I look like hell. I'm actually not in a bad mood despite last night, but I've felt better. I lack focus, too. I'll be working on something (this blog, for instance) and suddenly I'm staring off into distant nothingness. And then I sort of realize I've zoned and I un-zone. It's all very strange.

I have a pick-up rehearsal tonight. We've missed so much because of this freakish rainy weather that we're sort of behind now. It suddenly occurred to me today that we're two weeks away from tech week. I was all calm this weekend--we have plenty of time--and now I'm panicky. I'm not too worried about the tourista scene. I'm not quite off-book on it yet, but I will be by tomorrow's rehearsal. But I'm crazy worried about the Juanis scene. It's about 50% Spanish and the blocking is almost balletic. Usually I memorize after I'm blocked, but my lack of grace and my lack linguistic skill in the Spanish language is a bit demoralizing. It'll be fine. V made a CD for me to help with the language and I plan on playing it while I'm at work. I'm confident. What? I am.

Okay, I'm done blogging now. Behave.

In Which Izzybella Does the Babble-Ramble Tango

I was really tired on Saturday afternoon and when I'm tired I get the giggles really easily. Usually I will collapse into giggles over something not at all funny. Or maybe just a little bit funny--the kind that makes me smirk a little, but not laugh out loud. But on Saturday, I had a full-blown giggling fit. It started with my stepmother spotting what she calls a woody-one of those old-fashioned station wagons with faux woodgrain side panels. Because I'm Dirty! that always cracks me up. She honestly doesn't get why that's funny, which is sort of cute and endearing. But the second the first giggle escaped my lips, my dad (also apparently Dirty!) snickered too. Then right afterwards we passed a telephone repairman balancing a long pole and the monster said, "My, that telephone man has a long pole!" And I lost it. I pretty much giggled hysterically for about a half-hour while my parents looked on, bemused.

We had a MoMentuM meeting yesterday. S managed to keep us on track, a task which is kind of difficult lately. For some reason I have no focus these days. Last Tuesday when we were supposed to rehearse two of my scenes, we chose to talk about other stuff instead (e.g. the wasting of time). In fairness to me, my scene partner for the second scene was sick and couldn't make it. But that doesn't excuse my complete lack of motivation to rehearse the scene I do by myself. It's really ridiculous. So yay for S being all focused and on-task. She rules.

I was talking with my co-worker E this morning and she was lamenting that she couldn't act. Now I happen to believe everyone has a little bit of actor in them. Just look at how easily and naturally children slip into another world--no advanced actor training needed at all. Betty Buckley schmuckly. (that was such a good workshop...I love her.) Now this particular person has a lovely singing voice and is part of a gospel band with her family. I was trying to express how my very favorite musicians and singers move me because I believe that they believe what they're singing. For example E is a gospel singer and she feels passionate about the music because she has a strong belief in God. But what if an athiest sang gospel? Would she find the same song moving? I don't think so because the athiest wouldn't believe what they were singing. I know that's a simplistic take on acting and it goes a bit deeper, but if I were to boil it down to one single aspect it would be that. Skilled actors believe what they're saying and doing is true, which enables an audience to believe it too. Thus ends my brief (thankfully) foray into performance philosophy.

My stepmonster bought me the new Kelly Clarkson CD. Just out of the blue. I like Kelly Clarkson,actually-I bought the Breakaway CD and have enjoyed it. I just thought it was cute that she did that. And then when I tried to thank her, she was all "whatever" like it wasn't a big deal even though this is a type of thing she rarely does. She's so odd. Probably why we get along so well. I haven't listened yet but I read the inside jacket. It's like Kelly went back to 1993 and visited Alanis Morrissette. Very angry. I'll play it later today.

Okay, must get back to this work thing. I now return you to your regularly scheduled day. Tired? Have an impossibly large amount of caffiene and sugar. It's what I would do.

Theatre Patron Loses Ring of Gold at Show About...A Ring of Gold

Seriously, and I feel really bad for her because she clearly loves the ring. I looked all over the place for her and I even emptied out the garbage cans in the ladies restroom in the hope that maybe it slipped off while she was drying her hands. No luck. It was only as I was emailing the Box Office Manager with a description of the ring and the patron's phone number that I was suddenly hit with the irony. The show we're doing is a spoof of Wagner's ring cycle, and our tabloid style ad campaign has the tag "Maniacal Dwarf Steals Magic Texas Ring of Gold."

Heavens. I only hope it wasn't the maniacal dwarf who stole her ring. 'Cause that little bastard's fast.

Not Friday Yet?!

So far every morning this week, after waking up and moseying my way into the kitchen for breakfast, it has suddenly dawned on me, "Today is not Friday. Why does it feel like a Friday?" It truly has every morning. I wake up with that gleeful feeling that I'm about to get out of having to do something I don't want to do, which is the only way I can describe how Fridays feel to me. And then I stop and realize--no, it's Monday. Or Tuesday. Or in today's case, Wednesday. I still have a today and a Thursday before I get to Friday. It's very odd. I've thoroughly overanalyzed it and decided that it feels like Friday because I know I don't have to rehearse or run the show again. You know--that show. I feel all free and unencumbered. It's a very pleasant feeling. I highly recommend it.

My Life, How I've Missed You!

I am so very sleepy this morning. I had an extremely difficult time getting out of bed and the only reason I finally did is because I had a big yellow dog staring intently at me, trying to telepathically impart the message that he was starving and also needed to pee.

So the show is over and I’m thrilled beyond measure. Actors were all talented-it was a good show in the end, but I’m truly and genuinely delighted to move on to the next thing. I have a real sense of ownership for the Juarez show and for Momentum and that makes a huge difference. We’re meeting tonight for a writer’s meeting and I think I might actually go over to S’s early for gossip and fun. Her place is very peaceful and welcoming, so it’s a good place to unwind.

And can I say how glad I am that NBC has Heroes available to watch on the Internet? I’ve become ridiculously addicted to that show and, although to be honest, I would choose spending time with my friends over watching television, I’m still glad I have a way of watching it online. Other than Tivo or DVR or whatever. Because I don’t have those things on account of how I still barely know how to work my DVD player, much less a DVR.

It’s interesting-ordinarily after a show, I’m all lost like “what do I do with this free time?” But right now I’m thinking of many things to do. For example, I have had the same three movies from Netflix sitting on my desk for about five weeks. I think I will watch them (and then possibly cancel Netflix owing to how long it takes me lately to watch what I’m sent). And then I want to reread the Harry Potter books before Book 7 comes out. And then I have a nice list of books I should read I’ve collected from S and Faithie. And then Friday night, I’m hanging with my friends. I’m very excited.

Oh, my life, how I’ve missed you.

I'm Being Eaten By a Boa Constrictor

That's a poem by Shel Silverstein. It's pretty funny in a profoundly creepy not-funny way, where the narrator describes being eaten by a boa constrictor from his feet all the way to his--. And then silence. Good times.

The show I'm stage managing opens tonight. Last night's rehearsal was part insane chaos of the I want to weep variety, and part inspired lunacy. This has been a tough show for all concerned, but usually the outcome is worth the headaches and trauma associated with putting it all together. We rehearsed last night until 1:30 a.m. I was overjoyed to finally leave, but still encouraged by how put-together the show seemed in comparison with the rehearsal we had just two nights ago. This really is a wonderful cast and they play well together onstage. I always love watching shows where the actors aren't so much "look-at-me-look-at-me." Actors can be that way sometimes. You know when you get the impression they aren't listening to what the other characters are saying so much as just waiting for their next cue line. This cast listens to each other. It's such a joy to see how scenes change from one performance to the next based on how each actor is approaching a particular moment. That's the part of theatre I think is just freaking fun. Everything in the world should be that cool.

And having said all that, I will be so glad when this show is done. Of course, that just means on to the next one, but I do have a month in between where I get to experience this crazy little phenom called spare time. I'm looking forward to exploring the mysteries of that particular concept. I see books and movies in my future. So exciting.

Hilarity (For Me, Anyway)

So the cast of this show I'm stage-managing, while remarkably talented, lacks commitment. By that I mean some of the cast members (this is an important distinction, not all of them are behaving this way) have things they'd much rather do than rehearse. I have felt that way in the past on some shows, but the primary difference between me and a few of the actors in my show, is that I went and rehearsed anyway. I think most shows are good experiences; some are great; some are awful. But agreeing to be in a show is agreeing to the time commitment required to rehearse and stage the show.

This particular show has NOT had a taxing rehearsal schedule for any of the actors. The rehearsals are set up per each scene and actors not in the scene to be rehearsed are not called. So far, no actor has had to attend a rehearsal more than three times in one week--usually for one hour each day, occasionally a bit more. So really. Not taxing at all. And yet...

One particular actor has decided she'd rather not rehearse tonight. She sent an email to my personal account claiming sickness. I was inclined to be sympathetic at first until the director told me this particular actor is "sick" a lot (at least once every show she's in, and if that's the case, WHY cast her, except that she's tremendously talented, and I just answered my own question) and requested I have her come in and rehearse anyway. So I emailed her rehearsal particulars for tonight to her work address. Her outlook email sent a "read" message and then I received an "automatic out-of-office reply." Except it totally wasn't an automatic out of office reply. It was so ridiculously faked that I can't believe she even bothered. I don't know whether I'm offended that she thinks I'm that stupid or just amused at the pathetic-ness of her attempt. I'm wavering between the two.

The thing is, she also asked to be let out of rehearsal a week ago Sunday so she could spend time with her boyfriend and I totally went to bat for her. Director did NOT want to let her off, but finally relented. So this is just kind of induces a great deal of irritation in a show/rehearsal schedule that has already been irritating enough all on it's own.

I didn't realize how much of stage-managing involved baby-sitting. To all stage managers everywhere, I say YOU FRAKKIN RULE.

My Week Or Not

So, it wasn't a great week, actually. I've started to post a few times, but decided not to inflict my negativity and seething anger on the e-world at large. I think that was a wise decision because I'm better now and focused on other things. To wit:

My sister is having a biopsy today. Getting your wallet stolen (which was how my week began) is sort of inconsequential compared to the possibility that my favoritest, most wonderfullest person in my whole world might have the big, yucky BC. Now my gut is positive, no matter the outcome, that she'll ultimately be fine. If cancer, we'll get through it and she'll be a survivor and we celebrate by shopping. If no cancer, we whoop for joy and then celebrate by shopping. Either way we shop together and that sounds pretty fun. But the worrier in me is frightened for her and frankly also pretty damn frightened for me. See, I think everyone has that one friend they can't do without and Faith is mine. When she's down, I'm equally depressed. When she's all happy, well, me too. So, nerves. Just a little nervy today.

Next, I'm happy because Clover sold her first book. I think that's the awesomest thing ever and I'm way excited for her. It reminded me of the day my mom found out she sold her first book. We'd been shopping all day at Trader's Village (North Texas shopping institution). This was before everybody on the entire earth had a cell phone. So when we finally got home around 6:30 or 7:00 p.m., the phone was ringing. Whoever was on the line hung up before we could get there, but no worries, because the phone rang again about 15 minutes later. It was mom's agent, Bart, letting her know that Walker accepted her ms and Mom was now a published mystery author. I'm certain mom's joyful war-cry was heard all over the better part of Fort Worth. That was a good day, one of the best days I think my mom has ever had, and I'm so glad Clover got to have a day like that.

Then there's Momentum. We're working really hard on the Women of Juarez. Right now it's just fragments of thoughts and ideas-the barest whisper of something solid. I've never been a part of creating something like this and it's challenging and interesting, and scary, and wonderful - all pretty much at the same time. Their stories break my heart and a lot of it just makes me wonder how strong I would or could be in the same situation. I take so much in my life for granted and I hate say I'm apathetic, but unlike V and S, I never would have thought of doing something like this. I'm learning a lot from them and learning a lot about myself-some of it, I don't like, but I think recognizing that is a positive sign.

Finally, I'm focused on the play I am stage-managing. The director and cast are all really talented and it is genuinely a really funny show. There have been some bumps along the road, or hiccups, or whatever you want to call them. A couple of actors dropped out because of time commitments and there have been other conflicts, some of which I feel like, while not my fault, I could have said or done something differently that might have helped things a bit. So I feel like I'm a bit ineffective as a stage-manager, but on the other hand, I came into the show after it was cast and after rehearsals had already started, so I hope that gives me a bit of a learning curve.

And that's my week. Or at least the version I feel better about sharing. I hope your week was really good. Hope someone made you laugh and I hope someone made you love, too.

Yay for Rainy Weather

I'm stage-managing a show for a friend and she just called me and told me to cancel rehearsal for tonight. There were already scheduling conflicts with a couple of our actors, but rainy weather clinched it. The building manager for the location we have been rehearsing in decided to close up tonight because the storms headed our way include baseball sized hail and the possibility of tornadoes. They didn't want any legal liability issues should something happen while we were there, which I totally understand. So rehearsal is cancelled and I have a sudden bonus free night.

My big plan for the evening involves laundry and an early bedtime. I feel really good about that plan.

Hope everyone has a great weekend.

The Usual Stuff

I'm a little grouchy right now because as soon as I get off work, I have to go to work. Apparently, that's a side effect of having two jobs. I'm working at the theatre tonight. Well, sort of working. I'm in the process of helping to train a new box office person. Tonight, he'll be doing everything and I will be shadowing in case anything strange comes up. Believe me, I'm highly motivated to get him all nice and trained so he can pick up a few shifts. I know I sound like I hate my second job or something. That's actually not true. I love theatre whether I'm working in a box office or acting on a stage. And the people at this theatre are particularly nice. I'm just kind of tired and truthfully I'd rather go see a movie tonight. I don't really care what movie-I don't even know what's playing right now. I just want to sit in a dark theatre with a box of junior mints and be mindlessly entertained for a couple of hours. Then I want to go home and go to bed. I'm easy. Not like that. Sheesh. Dirty.

Theatre Thought for the Day

I got this from my friends at Momentum Theatre. I just joined the permanent ensemble and they read this at the induction ceremony, which was awesome! It pretty much expresses how I feel about theatre and what, specifically, makes it rock so hard. I especially love the "pretentious" line. It's a fault some theatre practitioners have that what they do is so unbelievably important and so unbearably beautiful, it can't be expressed in any words. I hope there are always words to express my meaning; else how do I express it? Besides there's as much value in silly plays and movies as there is in meaningful drama. For example, a good friend took me to see "There's Something About Mary" the day I started my divorce proceedings. I laughed so hard during that movie that I swallowed my coke the wrong way and blew it out of my nose. And I needed that laughter. So this is why theatre and art and music and all those things make my life better.

HELP!
Theatre come to my rescue!
I am asleep, wake me.
I am lost in the dark, guide me, at least towards a candle.
I am lazy, shame me.
I am tired, raise me up.
I am indifferent, strike me.
I remain indifferent, beat me up.
I am afraid, encourage me.
I am ignorant, teach me.
I am monstrous, make me human.
I am pretentious, make me die of laughter.
I am cynical, take me down a peg.
I am foolish, transform me.
I am wicked, punish me.
I am dominating and cruel, fight against me.
I am pedantic, make fun of me.
I am vulgar, elevate me.
I am mute, untie my tongue.
I no longer dream, call me a coward or a fool.
I have forgotten, throw memory in my face.
I feel old and stale, make the child in me leap up.
I am heavy, give me music.
I am sad, bring me joy.
I am deaf, make pain shriek like a storm.
I am agitated, let wisdom rise within me.
I am weak, kindle friendship.
I am blind, summon all the lights.
I am dominated by ugliness, bring in conquering beauty.
I have been recruited by hatred, unleash all forces of love.

Even my avatar...

See my avatar to the left all geared up in the rock-n-roll ensemble with the screaming fans? Don't you think she looks kind of like the Sally Field Gidget trying to be cool? That is a problem. I can't look tough and bad-ass. I've tried. Once, in the tenth grade, I got a bit part in one of those educational films they show kids in high school to scare them straight. I had a little blue dye in the hair, a low-cut top, a too-tight skirt and slutty ankle boots. Did I look hardcore and slutty? No. I looked like a twelve year old trying on big-sister's clothes. CR, a fellow drama-dork, gave me a big hug and said that's why he loved me so much. Did not improve the mood. Sometimes a girl just wants to look bad-ass and scary. And save for an extended scene of CR, RB, and me walking along the railroad tracks like homeless little wayward orphans, they cut almost every scene I was in. All I got out of the experience was much mocking and that stupid "Signs, Signs, everywhere a sign" theme song I still know by heart. Oh, now I must share:

Signs! Signs! Everywhere a sign!
Stop, look, and listen to the SIGNS!
Go on the green light;
Stop on the red;
SLOW DOWN! There's a corner ahead!
Signs! Signs! Everywhere a sign!
Stop, look and listen to the--
SIGNS!

Oh, dear heaven, I heard that song in my sleep for months afterward. There was one scene where we were all dressed as various traffic signs and another actor got "lost" amongst the signs. Seriously. The sledge-hammer was so obvious, they considering putting it in costume too.

Yeah. Good times.

Okay, I'd better get back to work. Turns out co-worker will be gone all week, so I'm definitely not lacking for stuff to do. My in-box looks like one of those cartoon in-boxes that might topple over at any moment. Be good, kids!