The one in the orange sweatshirt
It’s closing weekend of the show, and I am both sad and relieved (sadlieved?) that it’s over. Every time I’ve done something like this, I’ve had to talk myself into signing up for and spending time on a pursuit that is not job or home related. I always feel a little guilty about it, especially a few weeks in, when I’m gone for bath and bedtime again, and Rosie asks again, (even if it’s not the case) “Mama? You gotchoo hersal? You goin you hearsal?” It doesn’t matter how on board L is with the set up (totally, majorly) or how happy the kids are after I leave (fantastically) (except for the part where they can’t live without me because I am their mother whom they need desperately and this will always be so and you better not correct me on that or else)—there is guilt involved. Motherhood—always with the guilt! What a jerk!
Plus, on top of that, there is the fact that although the past two stints I did with this comedy theater were classes that ended in a two-night performance, this show is a mainstage show, involving five weeks of Friday and Saturday night shows and more seasoned actors. They’re all trying to make it in the biz, in whatever way they can, and all of them, except for me and maaaaybe one other person are represented by agencies. They use phrases like “I’ve been booking stuff like crazy,” and compare audition notes from similar film/commercial gigs they’ve been sent to land.
And then there’s me. My headshot (which you can see here—HEY-oh!) was snapped by my sister right before she walked out the front door of our house on her way back to work after her 30-minute lunch break. My bio includes my college major and the word fart. I have no agent (and am not seeking one, NO CALLS PLZ.) and am the assistant stage manager, which is sketch comedy speak for “will be appearing in bit parts in a few sketches on a test run with the mainstage cast to see if she can cut it.” It’s like the easiest game of “one of these things is not like the others” ever.
But you know what? Whatevs! I had the time of my life. I’m definitely not the most talented person there, or the fifth most talented, or even the tenth most talented person. Heck, I might even be least talented (when it comes to acting, now—let’s not get hasty and cheapen my obvious superiority in other things with generalizations), but it doesn’t really matter to me at this point. I did something outside my normal life for a little while, and it felt damn good. It feels damn good to do that, you guys. Is what I’m saying.
Here’s to stepping outside the every day. I recommend it.