musicals on the spot pt II

Wanted to keep my word and finish the story I'd begun last month. I'm sure I've forgotten some details. My brain has been scrambled all April. Six planes, at least three work disasters, and a couple big surprises around my play productions--one good surprise, one bad surprise.

I'm supposed to be revising a draft right now, but my brain is too fried with all the Phone Things I had to do today. Promo posts on Instagram, a billion casting emails, personal texts that are important but may as well be sent from Pluto, disbelief it's almost May.

Sometimes reading a book and clacking on something completely different can get my mind back on track to actually write. When I woke up my goal was revising three scenes. But that was before the digital onslaught. Left for the cafe an hour late. Saw two girls from my building on my way. They were sipping coffee on the steps of the Scientology center. I told them my goal was revising two scenes. But there were a lot of DMs to answer and Zooms to set and texts about the show I dramaturged, up this Wednesday. So now my goal is one scene. But first, more about musicals on the spot.

Because I was slotted to do the improvised rap musical on Monday, I listened to Hamilton all week. Driving, in the shower, walking around town. To be honest it felt wrong. It's a genius show, and I still love it, but there's a significant cringeness to it now. The patriotism tastes rotten. The celebration of a money guy feels bizarre. And all the (brilliant) music time travels me to 2016. And 2016 makes me think of the orange clown.

But still! I needed the immersion. I walked to the theatre around 6, spitting out "Non-Stop." I arrived to find our beatboxer in the green room. We'd never worked together, so we shook hands. He introduced me to his cousin. Musicians are funny that way. It's kinda weird for a comedian to randomly bring a cousin or "a guy" backstage, but it's totally normal for the band.

The rest of the cast arrives. AW telling me she's been super busy with a play, JH ripping on AW, ZN is writing for a new tv show. I love the show runners and tell him so. RB admits quietly, he auditioned for them before. Close but didn't clinch it. I ask is he's a dweller or a forgetter. He says he thinks about the future more than the past. But he also laughs in a certain way.

Then I meet DD! He seems professional and nice. We've emailed about the opening choreography, the only preplanned bit in the show. We spend about two minutes small talking and exchanging Chicago names. And then! The last show (running very late) ends. On the heels of the applause we rush to the stage. We have five minutes before doors open for us. We forgo warm-ups for a single practice of the choreography, which I flub big time. I tell the group I'll get for showtime. I drink a lime La Croix, we cypher about the heat for ten or so, and then the stage manager knocks. I breathe backstage, trying to unclench my everything. This is the first time this group of people have ever been in the same room, and we're about to perform a fully improvised rap musical together. And one of us hasn't done that in six years.

The show is very good! The audience chooses our subject to be Pennywise from the book IT. Totally nuts. I play two side characters (Pennywise's mother and Finn Wolfhard) to ease back into free styling. But I hold my own. If I may brag, I crush a particular group song based on that weird part of the story where all the teens sleep together to impress a turtle god. (Not in the movie, wonder why.) I also do nail the opening choreo. I laugh a lot, sometimes you just can't help it.

We do a scant recap post-show because the next cast is creeping in. I change out of my khakis into shorts. I exit the side way to be met by a group of four 20somethings. They go quiet when I pass then one squeaks, "YOUWERESOGOOD." I turn around and say thank you, ask if they do improv. They do of course. I round the corner into the main crowd spilled onto the sidewalk. A few people reach out to nod, to say, "wow I loved you guys!"

Just as I think I'm out of the woods, I see the beatboxer and his cousin. They'd kept to themselves comparing new hip hop albums before the show. But now we've all made a thing together. The man, who I suddenly realize is quite large, wraps me in a giant hug. His cousin hops up and down, "You killed it!" I look up at the beatboxer, "No you!" I say.

I trot home thinking about how me ten years ago would never believe I would be booked on the sold out 7 PM show at the hottest comedy theatre in LA. Also pretty wild it was all based on a book I read in middle school in a cabin in Wisconsin. Life is strange.

no fooling

Yesterday was such a lovely day of my little life, it's 6:25 am now. I'm at the table looking out the balcony doors. The sun is rising, so every moment there's a new pink or baby blue bursting from the clouds over the palm trees. I've been up since 4:30 with the insomnia. Just got out of the shower. I hope to settle after this.

First thing was I had to go to the DMV. And of course, this was not lovely, but the entire ordeal took under three hours and I planned for five so. I had to get my license renewed in person, which really steamed my clams if we're being honest around here. I applied online, but a a pop-up appeared--I'd need to visit an office. I tried two more times, kind of in disbelief.

Last Thursday I took the morning off work and vroomed over there at open. I was 20th in line, then realized I had forgotten my wallet! Of all things to accidentally leave in a different person on all of the mornings. I drove back home, returned, got a new number: 20th. When I was 8th every computer in the system shut down. Twenty minutes later the staff announced it might be three hours to wait. I beat myself up for the wallet thing. I went home in a terrible mood. Later Puhg and I had burritos at the tin shack. "Mostly for your mental health," he said, practically running a handkerchief across his brow.

Anyway, yesterday's excursion was even more eventful. The ticketing system was broken. There was a long winding in-person line. I became emotionally tied to a very elderly Japanese man who couldn't stand for long. I finally got to see Deb, who wore zero percent of a smile and a face mask, around her chin.

Deb started doing "the usual" and then had to stop and be like, "Did you get any notifications about your renewal...?" She was dumbfounded. I was like, "An email to apply online, but online application kept getting rejected." She clacked away at her computer. I asked if something was wrong. She snapped, "Nothing's wrong. It's just... Why you gotta take a test?" She clacked longer. I stood silently for about ten minutes. Finally she seemed to give up and printed stuff and told me to get my photo taken, which I did not want to do. I actually like my license photo. She told me because I had opted to renew in person I had to take a new photo.

Even though there was no reason (I scoured the website) I should have needed to take a driving test because this kind of weird thing happens to me a lot, I actually studied for said test while I was waiting in line. I did all four of the practice tests and actually thank goodness I did because I would probably have failed otherwise. There's so many things we know but not if phrased a certain way. Like how many feet away should you lower your high beams if you see an approaching vehicle? I go into the little computer room and pass quickly. I hear the security guard guy tell a man, "I'm so proud of you." (You can fail the test twice, third time was the charm.")

I left by 10, spending a little time in the car to Marco Polo with Dizz and Lav. There's drama about a bachelorette party costs increasing for surprise hibachi dinners. My new photo is not as good, but it's not bad at all. I wonder if I'm on a list or something.

I chattered with Puhg. He'd brought me a coffee at 8:20, the angel. Made my journey all the sweeter. I laid down and watched the rest of Pee Wee's Big Adventure, which we'd started the night before. I'm proud of myself for growth in this area. I know what kind of activities are prone to overwhelm me, and I try to pack a buffer around them to decompress. In that wretched DMV lighting I could close my eyes and imagine the softness of my bed, a big cup of water beside me, Pee Wee's face huge on the wall.

I sent an email to the non-profit about the show. I made notes in my journal about my hopes and fears about this new possible manager. Because I'd already cleared through lunch, I realized I had enough time to sneak to the salon for a mani pedi. I pointed to the color I'd like. "Barbie pink," the gal said. I decided not to listen to music and just let the women's discussions I could not understand drown out my thoughts.

My nails looked perfect. I had a half hour before my meeting to hop to the store. I'd rushed past Amnesty International on my way to my appointment muttering, "Can't now." I'll tell you what they CAUGHT ME, STROLLING like practically skipping down the street. The girl asked, "...Do you have time now?' And so obviously I did. Anyway now I'm a member of Amnesty International.

I got to my patio five minutes early, scuttled into the bathroom to brush my hair. I went with grey sweatshorts, a crop tank, and my hoodie from my old comedy theatre. My favorite spot in LA, and they had my favorite cake. Maybe manager walks in and we small talk in line (torture). He gets pecan pie and orange juice. I get aforementioned cake and an Italian soda. The barista asks my name because he sees me there a lot. We do a cute formal greeting.

My favorite table is free! I almost don't take it (why) then do. I tell mm that I watched one of his favorite movies last night as an investment in him, since I know he is prepared to invest in me. We talk about how the film is so camp and fun though confusing now. I admire its ability to express joy around class and race, while being an inherently queer story too.

I read through my list of concerns and my list of What I'm Looking For. He responds and volleys to each. I feel at ease with this person even though he's a guy. We talk about that too, how Sarah McLaughlin had male managers on Lilith Fair. Everything feels just about right. I tell him just tell me if I'm acting strange. I simply have no idea. Just tell me. That's the thesis to working with me: just tell me. At one point I open my palm to make a point and a leaf falls right into it.

We shake hands, and once it's done he's asking how things are moving with my animated movie. I mumble around how we pitched something and are sending materials soon and he sort of nods and then offers he has clients who can do character design. I say we have an artist, and apparently he's cool but I don't know about comics. mm practically falls off his bench, "he created !!!!" he says, "bury the lead!" I'd been yapping about how excited I am for this movie's environmental messaging. But this is what I've been saying, I stress, I am good at the show and not at the business. He hugs me and says, "This is exactly how I wanted this to go."

I tell Puhg when I come home: I signed with a new manager at a top company while wearing my comfy clothes and eating Heath Bar cake! I DID IT!

Okay so now it's 6:05 pm. I'm at a Mexican restaurant on the west side. I just had four street tacos for $10 while wrapping up emails for the day. First rehearsal for the indie production of my play is tonight, had to drive her very early to beat traffic.

So more about yesterday though. I journaled for a bit then trucked home to write a political letter about the mergers and how they are destroying free speech, it's really that simple. I tidied up the dang place before watching my sister's church service. She has become a reader, which is very significant!

Emailed a lot about the poster. Texted the chuckleheads on slack about the movie pitch deck. Ate some goat cheese and crackers and then took a producing call about the budget and communications. My collaborator said, "You handle conflict so well, and I really learn a lot from watching." I am quite proud to hear this. Handling conflict has become one of my great loves.

Finally I had to be done. The moon rose as I sat on the balcony decompressing. It became so bright and shiny. Had the rest of my huge Heath cake slice while watching Pluribus. Fell asleep on Puhg, woke up around 4, you know the rest...