Thursday, October 25, 2012

This and That

I woke up this morning with a scene from "Harold and Maude" in my head. You can see it by clicking that link, or if you're nervous about clicking links in blogs, it's the scene where Harold and Maude are sitting in a giant field of daisies. Maude says she would like to be a sunflower, Harold says he would like to be a daisy because they're all alike. She points out that each one is actually different and remarks that a lot of the world's sorrow comes from people who are individuals (like each individual daisy) allowing themselves to be treated as a group (the whole field). Not a very good summary. I'd suggest watching the clip because it's so lovely and ends with a Cat Stevens song. Actually, go watch the whole movie. It will embrace your heart and heal your soul. I can wait. This blog will still be here when you get back.

Did you watch it? Good, yes?

Moving on.

I woke up with that scene in my head, and it struck me as an important thing to keep in mind. I am "this" (an individual flower) and I need to not let myself be treated as "that" (a generalized group).

This week is tech week for the show I'm in and I want to say right from the start that I love this show. I have learned so much and pushed myself and the whole environment is collaborative and beautiful and exciting and new. I would not trade one minute of time spent on this show for anything - I am so fantastically lucky to be a part of it. That being said, tech week is showing me exactly how much "this" I am as opposed to "that."

I am not a typical actor. I am an introvert, who happens to be a talented performer.

I say this because I look around at my cast mates, chatting with one another, making jokes, goofing off on our down time during tech rehearsal and notice that I'm not doing that. I'm just trying to keep my focus where it needs to be so things can run smoothly.

But I find myself feeling a little bit bad or guilty or whatever, too, that I'm not using this time to bond with my cast mates. This is an amazing group of beautiful, talented, intelligent women. And I find myself sitting on the sidelines watching them sing songs to one another or practice yoga. The part of my brain that still believes in the extrovert ideal is screaming at me, "Go join in! You have stories! You are flexible! You know that song!" while the introverted side of me is saying, "Wow, there's a lot going on right now. I don't even know where to start." Ultimately, I don't go crash the conversation or join in the yoga-ing. And then I beat myself up for not trying harder to get to know these women, just like I beat myself up for trying too hard when I do throw a story or anecdote into the mix.

It's a rough spot to be in. But I need to remember that there are all different kinds of actors. There are quiet ones who really turn it out on stage. There are boisterous ones who suffer from extreme stage fright. There are those who laugh and joke and sing during down time. There are those who crochet pillows or read books. I am the quiet sort. I like to use down time to not be "on." That is okay. Even if it makes me different from all of the other beautiful, amazing, talented, intelligent, wonderful people working on this show, I don't have to follow their behavior patterns to be an effective part of this process. I can (and hope I do) contribute in my own way. Because my daisy may be smaller and fatter and slightly left-leaning, but that does not make it any less beautiful, magical, or brilliant than anyone else's.

Wednesday, October 17, 2012

Down and Derby

I am sore.


I am beaten and battered and bruised.

I am most likely insane for tackling a project like this, that asked me to learn to roller skate - derby skate - at this stage in my life, having never skated before, with only about six months to train, but...

I am happy.

I am strong.

I am fearless.

I am pumped up and excited and achy and tired and thrilled and overwhelmed and so beyond lucky to get to do what I do.

I am in the zone on the floor, not concerned with the size of my ass or the curve of my thigh. I am a blocking machine, looking for space to sneak my jammer through the pack. I am part of something that is bigger than any individual part.

I am a force to be reckoned with.

I am looking forward to the next bout.

I am looking forward to the next spill.

I am looking forward to seeing my team mates tonight and doing the whole thing over again.

I am Roleen Joleen. I am Jodie Fister. I am Maggot Thatcher. I am Lynn Destructable. I am a Larkin City Misfit Maverick.

Beast mode. Beast Mode. BEAST MODE!

Friday, October 12, 2012


It's that time of year again.

The leaves start changing, the air gets cooler, and I start to fantasize about having someone to snuggle with when it's not quite cold enough for the heat to come on in my apartment yet.

Now, please, don't take this as some sort of lonely girl battle cry for attention because that is not the intent of this post. I'm not lonely. I just got my apartment back to myself two weeks ago and I am loving it. There is nothing better than coming home to find only my cat and my stuff waiting for me. It's brilliant. But I have long had this sort of dream of finding some ridiculously hot yet moderately stupid boy toy who could help keep me warm when the heat isn't on yet, but who would realize come holiday time that we really don't have that much in common with one another so we should part amicably and I can go back to my life of just my cat and my stuff.  It's not that I'm lonely; I just hate being cold.

Which is a terrible premise for a relationship, I know. Admittedly, I'm too busy to be able to dedicate that much time to another human being at the moment anyway. I've got tech week coming up, followed by a show opening, and as much as I'd like Boy Toy to be there when I need/want him, I realize that even to make a fling work, I'd have to be there when he needed/wanted me, too, and I can't promise that right now.

But I do find myself especially prone to developing crushes on people this time of year, in large part because of that silly little dream. Most of them are completely ridiculous crushes - he's taken or lives too far away or the age difference is ridiculous or he's famous and doesn't know I'm alive. I will admit, they are kind of fun to have, though. It's nice to get that little butterfly feeling in your stomach when a particular someone says hi.

In the past, I have tried telling these people (some of them, anyway) that I have these little crushes. It never ends well. These people usually then feel really odd around me because they don't feel the same way, so our friendships become strained and we drift apart and I get to feel a little bit dumped even though we never dated. So I know it's kind of the coward's way out, but in regard to the silly little harmless unrealistic ridiculous crush I have right now, I'm not going to say anything. At least not for a little while. I'm going to enjoy the little butterflies when they come, and use blankets to keep me warm. It's such a lovely time of year - why spoil it with an unnecessary break-up?