like genuinely

I’m at the little pink cafe. I come here once a month before my laser appointments. If you get your hair burnt off, sometimes you need a special cookie or something. They’re blasting Lily Allen’s album start to finish, and I am loving it of course. 

Yesterday I thought about school shootings all day, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Got up early to finish the Toy Conglomerate commercial. Submitted it at 8:30, dramaturgy meeting at 9. Exercised and showered and talked to my producer—10K in play from an unlikely source, an actor from my favorite film franchise. You just never know. Set a call with my lawyer god bless her doing this deal pro bono because she knows I am bleeding money.

Met the school shooting survivor at the garden patio. She got a chocolate chip cookie and a huge sugary caramel iced coffee. 21and traumatized. We yap for two hours, and I have to hold my tongue several times. “Do you not see the patterns?” I want to ask, “How you say you’re doing okay but every story you tell…”

When I get home I’m supposed to work on the climate movie, but I collapse into bed and sleep for an hour instead. Rise just in time for the PR zoom. What should the poster look like? No guns, I say. Pinks and purples.

I work on an email to famous friends who might send me a blurb. I intro actors. I text BM just to laugh. I post to Insta, about auditions for the indie show. I write the maybe manager, would he be in for a gd lunch. At 7 Puhg and I head to the mall. I scamper around for khakis. I need them for improv. We settle in for a viewing of Overtone, which I enjoy even though I, true to form, despise a man wrote a movie about motherhood.

Been staying up late most nights. Not even doing very much. Writing in my diary, with my left hand, how I am excited and scared. The shooting survivor texts me, "it was so good seeing you again. thank you so much for bringing awareness to school shootings and not forgetting about it. like genuinely, thank you so much. it means the world."

Proud Reading Reflections

 Thursday night I produced a reading of my beloved screenplay I'm trying to sell. I've been waffling about it since July. July 11 I emailed my first casting choice to ask if she'd do a performance. She wrote back right away yes, and then the ball rolled. I gathered the group, found the space, imagined how I wanted it to go. Came up against a bunch of roadblocks in August. I hate to back out of things, but I doubted I could pull it off. I asked who was around--my mom and Puhg if I was pushing too hard. They both had such similar answers, "It seems fun!" And that was enough for me to power through.

SO many contract emails, rehearsal Venmos, actor shuffles, schedule headaches, poster edits, Insta stories later, the day came. And all day, annoyances cropped up. Late tech director, actors in traffic, comp drops. I got angry, I got sad, I got into my frilly pink dress. I showed up arms full and head buzzing. Rushed through two scenes we NEEDED to slam, frantically got the lights situation set, drafted a curtain speech, greeted folks hoping they wouldn't all hate me soon.

And honestly it went SO GREAT! Not perfect, but great! I juggled cleaning up the green room with greeting friends on the patio, tried to absorb the compliments but also keep my brain from falling out. Made ONE promising connection. And that's really what it's about. Unreal, but true. Finally walked down the street, with stragglers, where we could just laugh and enjoy the autumn night air.

The next day Puhg gave me such a good compliment. Something I didn't know about myself. He said, "You really put yourself in uncomfortable situations." It almost sounds like a diss. But he went on, "You do things you know will be really hard on you because you want whatever is on the other side." And it's true! I've got grit. Professional, personally--I toss myself into so many experiences where I KNOW I am going to cry, rage, and panic. That's the nature of the beast. But I've done it over and over and over and over for, now, literal decades.

Even now, I'm very aware of which people followed up after the show to gush and which have been silent (I think) purposely. But what can I do? It's not for everyone! My work or my ethic! Good luck burning someone who sits in fire.

The Past Three Weeks of Art

Sunday: Wrote at a coffee shop all morning & afternoon.
Monday: Taught Medieval Theatre all day, ran home to take a meeting with a television producer. Prepped a piece for a callback in the morning.
Tuesday: Early SC callback (three hours), immediately hit the train to tutor writing for two hours. Had my first "Business of Playwriting" class.
Wednesday: Taught Intro to Devising class, Harold rehearsal, Harold show.
Thursday: Writing Center shift. Vigorously doing playwriting homework. Playwriting class.
Friday: Taught English 101 all day, pass out in the afternoon, see a new play at The Goodman.
Saturday: Step class, pump-up coffee date, see Puhg's movie premiere, family dinner, three hours of improv shows.
Sunday: Took my mom to brunch. Spent the entire day preparing a comedy writer's workshop packet. Finished at 7 PM, just in time to scarf dinner and run to the theatre to host and perform in a Harold show.
Monday: Got to school early to check-in guest speakers for my Theatre History class--a local improv team. Researching local theatres. Eating junk and froyo with old castmate all night.
Tuesday: Spent morning applying for theatre production, Writing Center shift, 3 hour BWC rehearsal.
Wednesday: Beginning of Directing unit in Theatre History, dinner with teammate, Harold rehearsal.
Thursday: Shift tutoring at The Writing Center, Indian with my sister, playwriting class, grading until midnight.
Friday: Taught English 101 all day, met up with old SC cast member for cake, dinner with Puhg, a live Bat at i_, new play at The Goodman.
Saturday: Audition at CSz. Fight with a Trump supporter in a bagel shop. Writing Center shift. Work on my pilot. BWC & WNT shows (three hours). Hang with the bros and go to bed at 2.
Sunday: All day trip to Fright Fest at Six Flags! But you KNOW I woke up ay 6 AM to write first.
Monday: Theatre History. Writing madly in my office. Chili with writing parter of yore. Harold show.
Tuesday: Writing Center shift. Surprise visit from Syd. Callback for CSz. Dash to playwriting class. Get convinced to stay out late eating cake with Syd discussing out past and present.
Wednesday: Theatre History special guest = my old director. She teaches and I treat her to salads and coffees downtown. Last minute invite for a film audition. Run across time learning the sides as I travel. Ingest a caramel apple much too fast. Harold rehearsal. I stay at the theatre to run warm-ups and coach an improv show.
Thursday: Up at 5 to work on a new play, outline calendar to see if I can do a run I am offered, Writing Center shift, cry in my boss's office, Puhg makes me dinner, off to playwriting class.
Friday: 5 AM up to grade, teach 101 all day, write in the afternoon, pass out, wake up in time to see improv show I will audition for in two weeks. Grade papers until slumber.
Saturday: Ran two miles and then train to The Goodman for a reading of Jose Rivera's newest play. Lunch date with Puhg followed by afternoon of writing at the library. Zip to BWC show at SC. Eat a funfetti ice cream sandwich with the cast.
Sunday: I woke up and immediately started working on my pilot. I took a break for HIIT class at the gym, a bowl of cookie dough dip, and a Rick & Morty. I just finished my pilot. I reflected on how much dang art I do. I wrote this.

Here and Now

Most famous psychics in New Orleans.

I just want to know. This has always been my fatal flaw. I just want to know what will be so I can know if it's all worth it. I write the Voltaire quote, "Life is a shipwreck, but don't forget to sing in the life boats" up on the board. The students freewrite to it. I sit. There's that stupid exercise, "What question do you ask the most?" Then you figure out how to make your (probably) negative question positive. I know many people ask, "What's next?" They should rather ask "What's happening now?" I used to ask "Will this fit?" At some point I tried to shift it to "How will this fit?" But I'm tired. And less naive. Maybe things don't fit. Maybe use is an abstract. Maybe it's nothing more than a slop pile.

In 2016 I Got Seven Manicures And Four Massages

-Accomplished my New Year's Resolution. I can now do the splits.
-Wrote and starred in a sell-out original sketch revue.
-Toured the Caribbean and Bermuda doing five shows a week.
-Did a major revision of my musical.
-Once I didn't eat desserts for a week.
-Nominated for "Employee of the Month" by my students.
-Got a new job tutoring writing.
-Got a new job teaching kids improv.
-Was published online four times.
-Was published in print twice.
-Finished revisions 4-10 of my screenplay.
-Started a new screenplay and play. I didn't finish yet. Sigh.
-Was a semi-finalist in a playwriting contest.
-Won the first JRC scholarship at i_ theatre.
-Disney World.
-Recorded on a podcast I admire.
-Cast as a sit-in in two long-running improv shows I admire.
-Went to Spain.
-36 short-form shows in three weeks (Maine).
-Performed at two new teeny improv theatres.
-Performed at The Lyric Opera of Chicago.
-Performed on the mainstage of S______ C____.
-Performed in three comedy festivals.
-Wrote for and acted in an original S_____ C____ House Co revue.
-Wrote a solo show.
-Wrote a (crummy) television pilot.
-Wrote a (pretty decent) TV sketch packet.
-Ran a 15K.
-Mastered the "changeover" in Power Step.