Making changes to my life
Yesterday at rehearsal, I spent almost the entire time talking with Dan and Leandra on the stairs while the actors ran through the entire show on the porch. It's an outdoor show. It's a beautiful venue. I hadn't had the chance to just talk with Dan and Leandra in a while. I only get to do that maybe once a year these days. Dan offered me a part in his production of the Scottish Play, just a small, non-speaking part (like a Lady or Attendant or whatever). I said that I have my final semester, my senior thesis, etc. He said that it would be flexible, so I said yes. I also said I could be props mistress if he needed one, since that was a helpful task that wouldn't take up a whole lot of time. He said I could be the props mistress.
Leandra and I discussed Shakespeare and how to properly do Shakespeare. We discussed our thoughts on the different actors and how they were doing. I let loose with how I thought about the actor playing Costard. Physically, he's the right fit. As in, he's supposed to be a fat guy, and yes, the actor playing Costard is fat. But he's supposed to be a comic actor; he's supposed to be a sly guy, winking at the audience and trying to gain the upper hand on the upper crust (the character never does, but lord knows he tries). But the actor just recites his lines, sometimes unintelligibly. It's only funny to laugh at a fat guy when he's done other stuff to gain your respect. Otherwise, Berowne calling him "Pompey the Great! The greatest Pompey, great, great Pompey! Pompey the huge!" just seems cruel and out of nowhere. Leandra agreed, and gave her thoughts on other characters, other actors, who she actually knew. She also discussed how difficult doing PR was, and how she was just thrown into it.
I've just been wanting to burst out with that analysis.
Leandra also said that she had met the woman who would be directing the one-act that I wrote for the Sterling Playmaker's 2013 One-Act Festival. I've been nervous about the whole thing, since, for the first time ever, Norepinephrin would be out of my hands entirely. I was actually hoping that someone like Bob would be able to direct the show -- someone I knew and keep in regular contact with. Apparently not. Leandra just referred to the director as "her" and "she", so apparently she doesn't even know the woman's name.
This is how the conversation went. The woman said something about being involved with the one-acts. Then, further, said that she had barely looked at the script, but said that it involved "a moleman."
"Can I play Maggie?" Leandra had asked.
"Who is Maggie?" the director had asked. "How do you know about this?"
"Never mind that," Leandra had said. "Can I play Maggie? I even have the costume!"
"Sure," the director had said.
While I'm relieved that Leandra is still Maggie, the conversation didn't make me feel any better about my show. In fact, I feel more nervous about it. The director has shown no love for the show. No excitement. The villain's name is The Mole. What is this woman going to do with my show? Will the show have any energy? Any verve? Will Andrew still be the Pizza Boy? How over-the-top will the actors be? I have no control over my own show and this is terrifying.
MY BABY.
I asked Mom a few weeks ago if we could sit down and talk about my plan for the next few months. She had immediately suggested going out to dinner. I thought that was a bit much, but who am I to turn down free restaurant food? I agreed.
On the actual day, I had to stop by rehearsal and drop off some props. I had spent the afternoon on masks for the French Ladies to wear in Act 5.
For most of rehearsal, I was having dinner with Mom. (Honestly props mistressing doesn't really require a whole lot of attending rehearsals)
I said, "Mom, I'm thinking about quitting Home Depot and doing substitute teaching full-time."
She was completely, 100% in favor of that.
I said, "What about my health insurance though?"
As we ate caprese salad that did not have enough balsalmic vinaigrette, Mom basically said, "Do you really need health insurance?" and we came to the slow conclusion that no, I did not. Which was odd; I remember being 23 and Mom telling me that I need health insurance. "Remember when you became allergic to polyester randomly? You need health insurance." But now here she was, advocating not health insurance.
As Mom worked through a kabob and I chewed on a vegetarian panino, I brought up Part 2 of the Plan.
"So I would save up a third of my income each month," I said. "And in June or July, I would move out."
Mom nodded.
"I would move to North Carolina."
"To live with James?"
"Yes."
This was the part of the Plan that displeased her. Didn't James not have his life together yet? Hadn't he grown in the past -- year? Year and a half? What if we were entirely different people? Moving to another state just for a boy rarely ever worked out. People grow, people change.
I pointed out that James was now getting his life back together. He was now getting back on his feet. Things like that don't just happen overnight. And as for our relationship -- moving was almost a year from now. There would be plenty of time for visits, plenty of time to see if we still really worked well together outside of brief one-day visits. Christmas and New Year's, for example. That was the example Mom always threw at me whenever she explained that I would have time away from her. Why not spend that time with James?
Mom was sated by the fact that moving was a long way away. Other than that one point, my mom is completely supporting my plan for 2013/2014. Where Mom falls, Dad will fall too. I have my parent's support, right up until June.
And so it was that yesterday I quit Home Depot.
Leandra and I discussed Shakespeare and how to properly do Shakespeare. We discussed our thoughts on the different actors and how they were doing. I let loose with how I thought about the actor playing Costard. Physically, he's the right fit. As in, he's supposed to be a fat guy, and yes, the actor playing Costard is fat. But he's supposed to be a comic actor; he's supposed to be a sly guy, winking at the audience and trying to gain the upper hand on the upper crust (the character never does, but lord knows he tries). But the actor just recites his lines, sometimes unintelligibly. It's only funny to laugh at a fat guy when he's done other stuff to gain your respect. Otherwise, Berowne calling him "Pompey the Great! The greatest Pompey, great, great Pompey! Pompey the huge!" just seems cruel and out of nowhere. Leandra agreed, and gave her thoughts on other characters, other actors, who she actually knew. She also discussed how difficult doing PR was, and how she was just thrown into it.
I've just been wanting to burst out with that analysis.
Leandra also said that she had met the woman who would be directing the one-act that I wrote for the Sterling Playmaker's 2013 One-Act Festival. I've been nervous about the whole thing, since, for the first time ever, Norepinephrin would be out of my hands entirely. I was actually hoping that someone like Bob would be able to direct the show -- someone I knew and keep in regular contact with. Apparently not. Leandra just referred to the director as "her" and "she", so apparently she doesn't even know the woman's name.
This is how the conversation went. The woman said something about being involved with the one-acts. Then, further, said that she had barely looked at the script, but said that it involved "a moleman."
"Can I play Maggie?" Leandra had asked.
"Who is Maggie?" the director had asked. "How do you know about this?"
"Never mind that," Leandra had said. "Can I play Maggie? I even have the costume!"
"Sure," the director had said.
While I'm relieved that Leandra is still Maggie, the conversation didn't make me feel any better about my show. In fact, I feel more nervous about it. The director has shown no love for the show. No excitement. The villain's name is The Mole. What is this woman going to do with my show? Will the show have any energy? Any verve? Will Andrew still be the Pizza Boy? How over-the-top will the actors be? I have no control over my own show and this is terrifying.
MY BABY.
I asked Mom a few weeks ago if we could sit down and talk about my plan for the next few months. She had immediately suggested going out to dinner. I thought that was a bit much, but who am I to turn down free restaurant food? I agreed.
On the actual day, I had to stop by rehearsal and drop off some props. I had spent the afternoon on masks for the French Ladies to wear in Act 5.
For most of rehearsal, I was having dinner with Mom. (Honestly props mistressing doesn't really require a whole lot of attending rehearsals)
I said, "Mom, I'm thinking about quitting Home Depot and doing substitute teaching full-time."
She was completely, 100% in favor of that.
I said, "What about my health insurance though?"
As we ate caprese salad that did not have enough balsalmic vinaigrette, Mom basically said, "Do you really need health insurance?" and we came to the slow conclusion that no, I did not. Which was odd; I remember being 23 and Mom telling me that I need health insurance. "Remember when you became allergic to polyester randomly? You need health insurance." But now here she was, advocating not health insurance.
As Mom worked through a kabob and I chewed on a vegetarian panino, I brought up Part 2 of the Plan.
"So I would save up a third of my income each month," I said. "And in June or July, I would move out."
Mom nodded.
"I would move to North Carolina."
"To live with James?"
"Yes."
This was the part of the Plan that displeased her. Didn't James not have his life together yet? Hadn't he grown in the past -- year? Year and a half? What if we were entirely different people? Moving to another state just for a boy rarely ever worked out. People grow, people change.
I pointed out that James was now getting his life back together. He was now getting back on his feet. Things like that don't just happen overnight. And as for our relationship -- moving was almost a year from now. There would be plenty of time for visits, plenty of time to see if we still really worked well together outside of brief one-day visits. Christmas and New Year's, for example. That was the example Mom always threw at me whenever she explained that I would have time away from her. Why not spend that time with James?
Mom was sated by the fact that moving was a long way away. Other than that one point, my mom is completely supporting my plan for 2013/2014. Where Mom falls, Dad will fall too. I have my parent's support, right up until June.
And so it was that yesterday I quit Home Depot.