the first monday of the rest of my life

It is only appropriate that I celebrated the eve of my fulltimeness by staying out WAY too late and drinking a WEE BIT too much. I had a low-grade hangover all morning.

Hey, look at me! I'm an adult!

turn and face the stranger

I was featured in an essay that Mike Daisey wrote for The Stranger this past week. If you read this blog or know me pretty well, it's easy to identify the friend of the story as me. Setting aside the main thrust of the essay for a minute and focusing on ME because this is MY BLOG ... It was interesting to read my situation as a story. Mike sent it to me before it went to print, and I giggled when I read it. Because I seem so tragically romantic, which is not how I feel inside. But what he writes does not ring false, and I endorsed it fully. Because it is sad, isn't it? I live my life - it is impossible to view my own life as a narrative. I've come to peace with whatever this decision might mean for me and my future, or else I wouldn't've been able to make the decision in the first place. But as a narrative, it's kinda fucking depressing, for real. If it wasn't me - if I didn't know the person Mike was talking about - I would've felt a tangible loss upon reading about it. Not necessarily for her - the friend - but for the broken system we (theater folk) are trying to make a living in.

An unexpected and gigantic benefit of having a little piece of my life turned into story is that it became this thing outside of me that I can look at, like an object. It is now separate from me as well as inside me, and I get the best of both worlds. Being able to poke and prod it from the outside has released me from it's power, and I feel such freedom. It's real!

THEATER IS DEAD! LONG LIVE THEATER! I now feel truly right about my decision to give up acting. I can also see clearly that while that might mean forever, it also might not. I've rejected the "all or nothing" "yes or no" "professional or amateur" mythic paradigm of artistry. Now I - me, myself - get to define when and how I will or won't pursue it, and with whom. My shackles are broken and I defy your definitions!

turn and face the strange

LOTSA CHANGES! (You get a super special secret kiss if you can name or describe that BFL show and/or sketch.)

Oh, by the by ... I've given up theatre again. You can see my past reflections on this subject (in chrono order): here (in which I break up with acting) , here (in which acting & I patch things up), and here (in which I continue to question my relationship with acting).

I haven't spilled much about my experience with The Women at ACT Theatre. As long as I live, I will think of that production as a gift. An incredibly unique, wonderful and truly special experience. I really have nothing bad to say about it. I loved every minute. And yet, ironically, it was during the production that I realized that my previous semi-facetious disavowal of acting was perhaps actually my prescient subconsciousness prepping me for future action.

During the show's process, I looked at the actors around me (in and out of the show). They mainly fall into 3 categories. They either:

1. are supported financially by someone else,
2. worry constantly about money, health insurance and the next job, or
   
3. are young.

I mean, really. What am I gonna do? Pushing 40, I'm gonna give up a stable day-job that I like, excellent health insurance and a steady paycheck? I'm gonna go Equity and schlep constantly to pick up theatre work, which most of the time won't even be acting?

Yeah. Seriously? I doubt it. It's laughable. It's also not how I want to live.

I have a friend that has to totally re-budget if she wants to spend $10 at a spontaneous lunch out. I have another friend who lives in a 2-room dive. They are both older than I am. I've got dozens of examples like this. Don't misunderstand - I have no judgments related to them as people. More power to them, and I am honestly thrilled that they are living their dream.

I guess it's just not so much my dream anymore.

Although I also think it's ludicrous to say that I've given it up forever. Who knows what tomorrow will bring? I do know that this time feels different than last time when I think I was simply burned out. This feels more permanent, like an actual life-change decision.

In closely related news, I am 2 weeks away from going fulltime at my job. Kage (my jobshare partner and dear friend) decided to pursue another career (which is so exciting and I am so supportive of). Considering these reflections I've just shared, I decided the time was ripe to see what is was like to be a non-actor. Just about the same time, my boss got promoted and asked me to go with her. So I'm also about to be promoted. Weird, right? Doesn't it all seem kinda destined?

I'm pretty much at peace with this for myself, although I have a lot of thoughts and feelings about the broader and more general societal implications. How frustrating it is that the world does not value what I am really fucking good at. The tiny niggling nagging feeling that I'm losing the fight by giving up. But t the same time, these feelings seem romantic and self-indulgent.

How does it change you inside to linguistically change how you self-define to the outside world? For as long as I've been a self-supporting adult, I have always been an actor who has a day-job. Now I'll be a 9-to-5er who will maybe act sometimes.

this is all i did today

I am glorying in newfound web vanity.

In other news, although I never quite recovered from STAYING UP UNTIL FOUR IN THE MORNING, I had nary a sign of hangover. Which is either a true miracle or a freak oversight of nature that I'm sure I will pay for imminently. In the meantime - HEY! you guys that own whoever makes Emergence-C ... I have no right to feel as good as I do, and I thank you.

joy in your heart vs. poke your eyes out

What is your favorite holiday song? Mine: O Holy Night. I am not at all religious, and it still makes me cry. Just read this as if for the first time: A thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices; for yonder breaks a new and glorious morn. I just cried a little typing it. What do we need more than anything if not a new and glorious morn to break?

Least favorite? Mine: I don't even want to tell you, because it'll get stuck in my head. Maybe I can sneak up on it; let's see. ... Little Drummer Boy. Quick! Sing something else to banish it before it takes root!

why hello there stranger

Where've you been? KIDDING! I'm know it's me who's been gone so long. C'mon baby - don't be like that.

The Women at ACT Theatre closes this weekend. From Sept. 11 to Dec. 16. I think it's like 80-85 performances total. 8x/week in addition to holding down my day job (p/t job, but still). I can count on one hand the number of pure days off I've had in that entire 3 month period, and most of those have been in the last 2 weeks. Not complaining, mind you, BUT! It'll be nice to have my regular life back starting next week. I have so much to spill about the experience, but you have to be patient just a little while longer. (As if you're on the edge of your seat, right?)

I'm at my day job right now, and I mainly stopped by to let you know about a new DIY venture of mine ... check out my new-found craftiness at www.hardwearables.com.

I love you. I really do. Seriously! Come back here!!!

tiddlywinks

I am the most tired I remember ever being while simultaneously being in an incredibly good mood.

An incredibly good mood does not necessarily equal patience with others when I'm this tired.

It wasn't until we were up & running fully after opening night that I realized ... I'm not in this play very much at all. I'm not complaining, mind you. It's just interesting that the rehearsals were deceiving. Time spent in the rehearsal room did not equate to onstage time. It did, however, correlate to time spent changing my costumes & wigs

When I'm tired, I pretty much eat anything I crave.

I've finally passed some magic threshhold -- I feel way worse when I don't work out than when I do.

Riding the bus is actually easier than driving & parking.

I miss you all terribly. I am sad to miss you, but I'm having a ball.