Theater

The community theater extrovert

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I don’t know what it is about community theater. I become a whole different person. I’m not just talking about the role I’m playing as a character, I’m talking about me as a person. I become an extrovert.

In real life I am not much of a social person. I blog, does that count? You get the idea. I like to keep my opinions to myself. I shy away from the spotlight and become a wallflower. I am moody, melancholy, and not at all agreeable. But at the theater, I am an extrovert on stage and off. All or nothing, baby! My most redeeming social quality is that I have a quick wit. I love to make people laugh. After the evening shows, Paul and I rarely made it to bed before 1 AM.

One night after celebrating at the theater, we had a couple of people crash at our house. One of the actresses confessed that she has cancer and is going through her third round of radiation next week. How could I say ‘no’ to that? Come on over! That night I went to bed at 2 AM then got up the next morning and did the show all over again. That is life as a community theater extrovert I guess.

You tend to meet a whole bunch of eccentric characters at the theater. For a brief time, they get to be someone else too. I wish I could say that all other life stops for awhile during the run of a show, but it goes on. I lost my job during the run of the show. I wasn’t the only one either. A cast member had a funeral to attend out of state. One young girl got her first period and had to reach out to people that were basically strangers to help.

For that short period of time, we became like family and you know how it is with family…some people drive you nuts. Oh, and there is always drama.

There was this new lady that was very beautiful, nice, encouraging, optimistic, and cheerful. She also totally annoyed the crap out of me. Every time she was on stage she would over act and upstage me. It drove me nuts. Back stage she dumped my whole water bottle on my dry clothes. It was an accident so I couldn’t do anything but suppress my irritation. She apologized profusely. When we had only two shows left, she decided that she didn’t like the dance routine choreography and wanted everyone to change it without actually telling everyone who would be on stage at the time. I told her there was no way I would be changing anything.

My husband Paul had the lead part. He had somewhere around 200 lines to memorize. Most of them were a paragraph long. He did a great job. Everyone thought that he had a natural gift for memorizing. Does anyone?? I really want to know. He spent at least an hour a day going through his lines.

There were love triangles on stage and off. Did you know that the theater is also a good place to fall in love? My uncle Rick met someone at the theater for a first date and they are already engaged!

Sometimes things didn’t go as planned. Lines got missed or messed up. Once the curtain opened at the wrong time while a woman was changing behind it. One little girl got hit hard on the head by someone moving a prop. Three other people fell, one while tied up. Many people had sore throats. We wandered around the rest of the week like exhausted zombie versions of ourselves while life continued on.

Then after the show is over, the main characters have to de-role. It is time to say good-bye to the new family. There is a period of sadness and loss after saying bye to a beloved character that almost becomes you for awhile.

For that brief time, everybody loved you. You were someone special, a star. The anxiety of performing is a major adrenaline rush. It is thrilling! Did I mention the costumes, makeup, wigs, and hair primping? Fun!

Then when it is all done, we go back to our normal lives until the next show.

 

Hell week

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Last week I lost my job.

Last week Sunday hell week started with a nine hour practice at the theater.

We sold our business earlier this year and up to this point everything has stayed relatively the same. I wasn’t expecting this at all. I didn’t have time to prepare for this in any way. I didn’t have plans to quit working anytime soon.

Then last week happened. Paul and I found out a couple of days before corporate flew in. We met them out for coffee on a brisk chilly sunny morning. I didn’t want to meet them. I didn’t want the small talk about the weather. I wanted the day to never happen or be over before it began. I faced the day with dread. I had nightmares about it when I could actually sleep.

It was the hardest day I ever faced at work. I had to go to the office that morning and watch my staff get fired right before Christmas. They didn’t do anything wrong which made it harder. I felt like I betrayed them. They had to immediately pack up their belongings and leave. I didn’t have time to prepare for the pain of firing long time employees, people that I saw day in and day out for years. Employees that I talked to more than some of my family.

I understand why it happened logically. Corporate wanted to consolidate all of operations into one centralized office. It makes a lot of business sense, but it did not stop my tears from falling.

I have been doing this for over ten years now. I feel really lost like I am losing a part of who I am. Who am I? My job will be gone and my kids will be out of the house soon too.

I thought about my time here, building a business alongside my husband. I thought about the friends I’ve made throughout the years. I thought about the clients that I will miss. I thought of the conferences I attended, the files I stockpiled, the work relationships I built during the 15,000 hours I dedicated my life to this. I feel a great sense of grief, of loss. Maybe if I saw it coming months before it would’ve been easier to adjust?

I feel unsettled, anxious, and depressed. Paul and our sales staff will stay on. My department is closing. I am the only employee staying on to make the transition of our operations to the central office. By the end of the month, our office here will close and I will be out of a job.

I wish I could say that the transition has been seamless, but it hasn’t. The central office has a different way of running things than we do. It is neither right nor wrong, just different. This has upset some of our clients which has been upsetting to me. I don’t have any control over this. I wasn’t prepared, I wasn’t ready. I am trying to let it go and not let it bother me, but it is easier said than done.

I feel like I am getting a divorce. Paul and I spent half of our married life working together. But it isn’t over, Paul and I have plans in the future to start another business together. This all had to come to an end sometime, I just wasn’t ready for it to end now.

That night Paul and I went to hell week rehearsal like nothing happened. Paul has the lead part in the show. Could he do it? Could I go on stage and smile when I spent half of the day crying? Acting like everything was okay was one of the toughest performances we had to give. We couldn’t tell the cast before we were able to tell close friends and family.

Somehow we were able to pull it off, but last week certainly gave a new meaning for hell week.

Prom…the good, the bad, and the not so ugly.

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There was this 17 year old girl (Ali) that got the part of the floozy that I wanted in the musical. She pulled it off a lot better than I thought she would as someone rather inexperienced in life and love. She has the body that many would envy with long gazelle like legs and curves in all of the right places. She also has a kind and compassionate heart…truly beautiful inside and out. She almost seemed to feel bad that I didn’t get her part although it wasn’t a big deal.

After the show one night, Ali told me that she was missing her junior prom. She bought a dress, had a date, and couldn’t go because it was the same night as the show.

She spoke with regret…lamenting a missed prom…while at a theater full of beautiful costumes, wigs, and makeup…including a stage with music, lighting, and speakers. It seemed like a no brainer to me…I decided to throw Ali a prom. We picked out lovely dresses and had a dance party with most of the people that were lingering about. Almost everyone got into glamorous costumes and danced the night away.

Afterwards, people started treating me like I was Mother Theresa. I became (gulp) almost popular. People told me how wonderful I was for throwing Ali a prom. Ali was even crowned the prom queen. I really felt uncomfortable with all of the praise. Maybe because I had more fun at her prom then I ever did at mine.

I missed my first two high school proms because I was home schooled. My autistic brother was too violent to be in school, so we had a retired school teacher come out to our house to educate him. My mom pulled us all out of school during this time. We weren’t treated well at school because Matt was the first violent autistic child in the school district. Apparently, it was the family’s fault he acted the way he did. For 3 years, I was not in school.

When I was a sophomore, there was a boy I wanted to go to prom with. I finally got up enough courage to call his house. He wasn’t home, so I ended up talking to his mother under the guise of some church fundraiser we were having at the time. I don’t think he ever knew I called for him. I didn’t have a prom date and didn’t attend the school.

So no luck for prom!

I went to my junior prom with my boyfriend at the time, Timmy. My mom picked out a dress for me and brought it home one day. It was ugly and I hated it. But I wore it anyway. We got our pictures taken at Timmy’s house. His step-dad grabbed my ass. Timmy was angry when I told him. At prom, another girl told me that someone wore the same dress that I was wearing the previous year. She also said that Timmy was planning on breaking up with me after prom.

After prom, Timmy and I got into a huge fight on our way to an after prom party about him wanting to break up with me. We sat outside the party in his car on the road. It was pouring. Several people stopped asking if we had car trouble, but the screaming and tears suggested otherwise.

Not a good prom.

Then senior prom came along…my long term boyfriend Bobby and I just broke up. I was heartbroken…so I started dating Bobby’s next door neighbor and friend. Nothing exciting happened beyond a few hickeys on my neck to get back at Bobby. Boy did that show him! Lol…But, I was planning on going to prom with Bobby’s friend. He didn’t have his license. When I went to pick him up, his sister said that he left for the weekend to go on a fishing trip with his dad.

So, I went to prom alone in a cheap thrift store dress with hickeys on my neck. At prom, a low status guy asked me out… I thought to myself…Sure, why not?? I didn’t like the guy, but I was feeling miserable and alone at the time. The other kids found out about it and laughed. Someone had the DJ announce ‘congrats Alissa and Donny for making a love connection’. We broke up the next day.

Not a good prom.

So this past weekend…I threw Ali a junior prom…Maybe I feel guilty for having so much fun. It was like I was redoing my prom all over again.

Sure, it was a nice thing to do…but I am not a saint for doing it.

I just wanted her to have happy memories. If nothing else, she will have a lot of interesting stories..

It was a great prom!

Stranger then family

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We had our final show this past weekend…What started out as trepidation ended with exhilaration..

I have been thinking again the last couple of days…Community theater is not that much different from running a marathon. I know that some of you may think my comment is a bit of a stretch, especially if you have done one or the other or neither..

There are commonalities… The months of training that nobody really sees… Special clothing… Anticipation…Dread…Goal setting… Setbacks…Worries… Until the months of training culminates with one big ending…the show or race with a lot of spectators.

Our common goal forces us to reach out to people that we wouldn’t talk to in our everyday ordinary lives..that person is the one we hold hands with as we limp across the finish line…It doesn’t matter if we voted for different candidates. All of the things that divide us melt away as we walk hand in hand towards a common goal.

It becomes a place where strangers become family.

It doesn’t matter if I really liked my part or not, although being cast in a great role that really fits adds so much to the experience. I can’t say my lines if no one replies with theirs. We have to work together.

It doesn’t matter if I run fast or slow. Maybe it is a good thing that I am not the fastest runner. It forces me to reach out for the hand of another running down the same road.

Long distance racing and working as a team to make a community theater show great are some of the biggest natural highs that I have experienced in life.

All of the long hours memorizing lines, practicing songs, and running long distances makes it all the more rewarding.

The more you put into it, the more you get out of it.

Why can’t life be like that all of the time? Why can’t we grab the hand of a fellow stranger struggling along the path? Why must we get so hung up on squabbling about our differences??

 

Some harmless, some hidden

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Memories swirl around in my mind. Some harmless, some hidden..

…laughter of teenage girls…the lighter flicks…not to smoke…melting the tip of the eye liner so it glides on easier…

I put on eye liner for the show. It goes on easy. It almost smears, unlike the sharp pencil of my younger years…Does anyone use a lighter anymore to soften their eye liner pencils?

…I see a younger face in the mirror, then she is gone..

A harmless memory..

An interview for the show…

Were you ever involved in theater before you came to this theater?

…My dad dropped me off at the theater before work…I was the little girl with a small part in the show…I was dropped off early before everyone else…I walked the trails alone in the woods surrounding the theater, sometimes afraid…but it was only a deer…alone…fun on stage…the big kids…the costumes, the makeup…

…The only time alone with my dad…his boss taking him for lunch…maybe I can go too since I ride with him…laughter…why would I take you??

The next summer, I got a part in another play. I was a princess.

…Reading my lines out loud with the other princesses on the grass in a circle in the summer sun…gone…have to drop out…Matt is sick…my mom left for the summer to go to a hospital out of state with Matt…selfish…how could you still want to be in the show…your brother is sick…so lucky that you are not sick…so lucky…anger and tears…some things are more important…crying…no ride…alone…loneliness…missing my mom…fragments of memories reflect off the surface of the dark murkiness in my mind…

Were you ever involved in theater before you came to this theater?

Just one innocent question scratched the surface…I don’t answer…

It has happened before over the years…innocent questions avoided…the explanations too personal…too painful…they shouldn’t be, but are.

Over 20 years later, I walked through the doors of another theater…in another town…and left all those old hidden painful memories behind me..

Or did I?

Mile 20 of the show

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The last time we talked, I was feeling apprehension about the opening weekend of the musical. It wasn’t about stage fright or worrying about whether or not I knew my songs or lines. It seemed to go a lot deeper than that.

The last show that I was in was back in 2011. I was in my mid-30’s and I had some really awesome parts. I built up a rather large fan base. I wore some really beautiful dresses.

As luck would have it, I was the oldest female that auditioned for this show. The part that I wanted was given to a 17 year old. Feeling old bites, especially after being given the old lady parts. In my mind but not in the mirror, I am still young and beautiful. Don’t they see me as I do?

I have been teased endlessly for my costumes. At first I was angry. One of the costumes I wear was owned by a woman before she had bariatric surgery. I was not kidding when I said that I had to wrap the belt around me twice. Over the weekend, I learned to laugh at myself too. Although it is one of my least favorite shows, the cast and director have been phenomenal.

Over the weekend, I had a few moments for self-examination. Paul and I have the same problem, we tend to be the type that takes on too much. Then we get overwhelmed with the choices that we make. I realized that if I ever train for a full Ironman, there are going to be a lot of things that I am going to have to give up or say no to.

Being in a show is a tremendous time commitment. Many people do not know what it is like until they have done it. Not only are there many hours spent on stage at the theater, there are many hours spent at home memorizing lines and songs. Time that cuts into other time commitments.

Stepping back into community theater after a long hiatus hasn’t been particularly easy. I lost all of my fan base. I am not remembered anymore. The director and most of the cast have never seen me on stage before. The ‘good jobs’ people threw at me as they were passing by on their way out the door don’t mean as much…you should’ve seen me in my hay day…It’s almost like qualifying for the Boston marathon…taking a break from the running scene for years…then being complimented on running a 5k.

This show has forced me to face that I am not young anymore…my looks are fading. I know this sounds incredibly shallow. But it has been difficult for me. To be honest with you, most of the positive attention I received as a child had to do with my looks. It met a lot of emotional needs for attention that went unfulfilled at home. I am learning to live with it like a genius slipping into dementia.

Maybe that is why I slowly switched from beauty to brawn over the past couple of years. It is something I feel I have more control over. It is something that I earned versus a genetic lucky roll of the dice. I feel great. I am starting to see a big separation between those who are active and those who are not. There are people my age who are out of breath climbing the stairs. I get a little winded at about mile 18 in a marathon.

People say that I am lucky. But this has nothing to do with luck. I earned it.

I don’t expect to live forever or even longer than everyone else my age. I probably won’t be running marathons at 80. But I do expect to live a full and active life until my last days. I expect to have enough endurance to make memories with my grandchildren someday.

Will I ever do another show again?? Yes, perhaps I will if the timing and part is right for me. But if you ever ask me if I plan to run another marathon at mile 20, the answer will always be no.

The show must go on…

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As you are reading this, I will be silently sitting backstage waiting for the show to start. Honestly, I don’t feel excited or nervous. I just feel frustration.

The show must go on…

Tonight the show that we have been working on since January starts. I am ready for it to be over so I can get back to my regular life. Maybe I have lost my passion for community theater?

The show must go on…

This has been a record month at work. Many times, like today, I had to walk away leaving things unfinished. It bothers me to leave things undone…it demands my attention.

The show must go on…

I feel unbalanced yet again. This show is taking a big chunk of my time now. Besides work, my first race is less than a month away. Only a few weeks are left until my 18 mile weekend trail running race. Yesterday it was snowing again. I haven’t been able to run outside for a long time. The trail is filled with snowy mud. I feel like I am falling behind on my training this week because I didn’t have the time.

The show must go on…

I haven’t had the time to write. This is probably my record for the least amount of posts per week.

The show must go on…

I am sick with a cold that has been hanging around for weeks. My ears are plugged and I am snotty. It makes it hard to sing. The last couple of weeks the whole cast has been sick with laryngitis, colds, and/or the flu. There are people back stage with fevers as you read this.

The show must go on…

Two of the cast members lost parents since the show started.

The show must go on…

The cast includes many more children than adults. Sometimes their chatter and childishness annoys me. They ask stupid questions that takes up the directors time and I don’t get home until very late at night. Does it really matter what side her hair is parted or that his costume has a tiny rip. Who gives a rip??

The show must go on…

We also have a dog in the show. He has been great so far, but the last few nights he has been skittish. He might be picking up on the stage fright of the actors that are handling him and sometimes he has been running off the stage. Some of the lead characters have extreme anxiety.

The show must go on…

This is the first show that I am the old lady. I am really having a hard time with my new identity. I don’t feel happy. I am not sure that being in this play was worth the other things that I had to give up. Maybe I am having a midlife crisis??

The show must go on…

I always had beautiful dresses to wear. My costume this time looks frumpy. I look ridiculously ugly. Call me vain, but this is the first time I feel really bad about my appearance. My costumes are ugly. They are ill fitting. My dresses are about 20 sizes too big. I am not kidding. I have to tuck the bust area into my belt that wraps around me twice. Someone asked if the new director was out to get me. Even my wig doesn’t fit. The cast has been super nice to me about this.

The show must go on…

Despite not liking the show nor the part I play in it, I have met some interesting characters. I have always been drawn to the eccentric type. They are pretty easy to find in the theater. There is the young man that had a failed kidney transplant and is going through dialysis. Hearing the stories and struggles of others and the friendships built help make the experience worthwhile. It puts things into perspective..

The show must go on…

It is a huge time commitment and I am not sure if I will be doing this again for a long time. But I kept my commitment even though I felt like walking away. In another week, I will be able to leave this behind me. Then I will have time to examine why I feel the way I do..probably on a very long run..

Until then, the show must go on…

Left without pants…

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This morning I had a new bedroom set delivered to our house. Previous to the new set, I have been using the same bedroom set that my grandparents bought me in 3rd grade. Let’s just say that it has been a long time since I have been in 3rd grade. It has been a while since my kids were that young. More drawers were broken than not.

After the delivery men left, I noticed I made a gross error. I forgot to remove my pants from one dresser drawer. It was the drawer that contained my dress pants and nice jeans.

Tomorrow morning we are leaving to spend the weekend in Chicago to see the sold out Hamilton. And wasn’t I just the one complaining about people wearing pajama bottoms to concerts??

To make things a bit more interesting, I have two interviews with potential employees lined up very early next week. Can I hope that we have similar hobbies and they show up in running pants too? Yeah, probably not..

When I called the company earlier, it sounded promising that they would be able to find my pants. I felt like a complete idiot until the customer service rep said that one time the delivery drivers left with someone’s pet..

Why do these things always happen to me?? Why??!?

Tomorrow…quiet, relaxing…marathon..

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Tomorrow I’m running a marathon…quiet, relaxing weekend…seeing the musical Chicago this afternoon…quiet, relaxing…Tomorrow I’m running a marathon!…graduation gift for Angel…sipping wine…relaxing evening…Tomorrow I’m running a marathon!!…taking her out to eat at a nice restaurant…Tomorrow I’m running a marathon!!!…quiet, relaxing weekend…

TOMORROW I”M RUNNING A MARATHON!!! Now what did I get myself into?? Probably not a quiet, relaxing weekend. But exciting, yes it will be that…

Remembering to forget

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I love writing a series about the past, but I don’t like that it prevents me from talking about the present. But then I figured it is my blog, I can write about whatever I want to.

I remembered so much over the past couple of days just by thinking and writing about things that I haven’t thought or wrote about in awhile. Things that are very elementary, like grade school. I remembered that Matt used to stand by the school and flap his hands. I remembered how he used to laugh after attacking someone. I even remembered the signals of his agitation before he attacked someone. His pupils would constrict. His eyes were wild. His teeth and fists would clench. His face and ears turned red. 

Sometimes I think that we have to remember things in order to be able to forget. It’s a strange concept and I can barely grasp it.

A couple of days ago, my mother-in-law Martha turned 67. It was a warm day that promised evening storms. Arabella and I went to see Cindy’s son perform in a middle school play. While I was at the show, I felt a strange mixture of emotions. I suddenly felt like time was going by very quickly, quicker than it should. While I was at the show, I found out that Martha’s brother died (on her birthday) from lung cancer, the very disease that will eventually claim her. Rain came down and thunder cracked like the striking of a big clock. It was pouring after the show ended and lightning zigzagged across the sky. I ran across the parking lot in the pouring rain in search of my car laughing as I was getting drenched by the cold rain. 

I drove 20 miles home in a steady downpour. It wasn’t raining cats and dogs, but it was sure raining worms and frogs! Arabella was angry with me for not stopping for ice cream. It was late and I wanted to get home. I wanted to make sure that Paul was okay after hearing the news of his uncle, although they weren’t very close. Arabella argued with me. She told me that I was old and I couldn’t relate. She said that my life was boring like an old black and white photograph. I have done my job right, she knows nothing about my life. Someday she will read this and understand.

Last night we took Martha out for her birthday to see Paul and Angel perform in the musical. Yesterday was the first time I saw Martha without hair. She looked very gaunt, frail, weak, and tired. But she was not coughing, gasping for breath, or wheezing at all. Next week we will find out if the combination of chemo and radiation did anything to shrink the cancer in her lungs that spread to her brain. Martha kept saying that she was going to fight it, but said good bye like it was the last time she was going to see us. 

The show itself was great. Angel was able to do her high soprano singing this weekend since she was feeling better. Paul danced around on stage like he was a young man in his 20’s. Everyone found it hard to believe that he is pushing 50. I married a man that is 6 years older than me. He always tells me what I have to look forward to.  Isn’t that wonderful? Lol. Soon I will need to wear glasses to read things and I will probably lose my hair. Geez, I hope that I don’t experience age exactly the way he does.

I am getting excited that the marathon I am running in is a month away. I ran 18 miles today and feel great. I put on a total of 30 miles this week. I feel strong. I feel ready. I feel sore.

That is about it here. Tomorrow I am going to get back to the series.