Tuesday, September 06, 2005
i covet the bucket of shoes.
i'm doing my bit of solo show, tonight. as much as it's necessary to keep showing it in pieces--mostly so i have a deadline for the drafts--and i should be grateful for the shot, i sort of hate the way it happens. i tell myself that it isn't a big deal, that it's a reading of a work in progress, but then the evening never feels like that all. the evening feels like you landed in an opening night without a dress rehearsal, and none of the people there are going to come back once you know what you're doing. which doesn't sound so much like a "show" as an audition.
and everyone knows how fun those are.
to compound the nervousy, i have had a crippling case of social anxiety all weekend. we went to a play directed by a friend--someone we really like, and would like even if he were a plumber, but who also is sort of a Big Dog and we'd like to ensure he has a chance to help us out professionally. here is the thing: he knew the monkey during their childhood years when the monkey, raised catholic, used to go to methodist y0uth r@llies to meet girls (i may have told you that story before. sorry if it's a repeat.). it is a very tenuous connection. and yet this guy has decided he LOOOVES the monkey. he lurves him. i have actually spent more time in the Big Dog's company--i took a scene study class with him recently, and on the first day of class he didn't recognize me, despite having met me three times. i kind of wish i'd missed those auditions and just gone to more methodist youth rallies.
he asks the monkey to go have lunch, he comes to see his fringe shows, he says that we should double date. but he never says it to me, he always says it while he's pointed towards my boyfriend. this sort of makes me feel like arm candy, since i have had no shows for him to come see so that he can profess that he loves me, too. he said nice things to me in the class he taught, but i heard him say nice things to almost every young woman there. to make matters worse, his very cool and smart girlfriend is a casting director, and when the monkey and i stand with the two of them, i slowly descend into panic mode. the monkey blithely makes seamless and witty social talk, and i stand there silently like i am made out of potatoes.
so that was the weekend, and tonight is the show. the "show." and i am nervous. please don't let me be made out of potatoes when the lights come up.
and everyone knows how fun those are.
to compound the nervousy, i have had a crippling case of social anxiety all weekend. we went to a play directed by a friend--someone we really like, and would like even if he were a plumber, but who also is sort of a Big Dog and we'd like to ensure he has a chance to help us out professionally. here is the thing: he knew the monkey during their childhood years when the monkey, raised catholic, used to go to methodist y0uth r@llies to meet girls (i may have told you that story before. sorry if it's a repeat.). it is a very tenuous connection. and yet this guy has decided he LOOOVES the monkey. he lurves him. i have actually spent more time in the Big Dog's company--i took a scene study class with him recently, and on the first day of class he didn't recognize me, despite having met me three times. i kind of wish i'd missed those auditions and just gone to more methodist youth rallies.
he asks the monkey to go have lunch, he comes to see his fringe shows, he says that we should double date. but he never says it to me, he always says it while he's pointed towards my boyfriend. this sort of makes me feel like arm candy, since i have had no shows for him to come see so that he can profess that he loves me, too. he said nice things to me in the class he taught, but i heard him say nice things to almost every young woman there. to make matters worse, his very cool and smart girlfriend is a casting director, and when the monkey and i stand with the two of them, i slowly descend into panic mode. the monkey blithely makes seamless and witty social talk, and i stand there silently like i am made out of potatoes.
so that was the weekend, and tonight is the show. the "show." and i am nervous. please don't let me be made out of potatoes when the lights come up.
