and that was what I did, all day at work. Calendars calendars calendars.
After work, when I was in rehearsal, I found out that a good friend was dumped this evening. I went over to his place and brought some Voo Doo doughnuts with me, to try and ease the situation. Three of us were sitting around, listening to sad music and being sad when Friend 1 (not dumped) says to Friend 2 (just got dumped):
F1: "Who would have thought you'd be here now? Listening to Stew's break up album, eating a doughnut, having your back rubbed by Olivia Murphy."
F2: *convulses in pretend sobs*
F1: "Don't misunderstand me - if I'd just been broken up with, I would want these doughnuts, this music and this Olivia Murphy. I just don't want to be broken up with."
And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how I know my friends love me. That when the girl they want most dumps them, I'm the girl they want bringing them Voo Doo and buggyboo.
I learned some new patterns today - a deck run.
I'm now running the backstage on Ribbons and trying to figure out the flow of our tiny space behind the curtains.
I missed two cues today, only one of which was very important. We did a run and three quarters this evening, which was sorely needed.
Our lighting designer tried to congratulate me on the show this evening and I just kept saying, "We're not there yet! Not yet!" (Read: "BAD THINGS CAN STILL HAPPEN.")
We broke patterns today. Big ones. The kind you purposefully spend four weeks building, carefully, painstakingly, with notes and everything.
At one point, J and I sat in the front seat of my car, parked a block away from the theater, and luaghed until we couldn't breathe simply because we told ourselves we weren't allowed to cry until midnight, and at this point it was only 6pm.
I took a shot of whiskey at 11am.
It's now 2am and I think the last time I felt this way was after the 24 hour play I did this summer. My body wants to pick me up and throw me against something sharp and pointy, me thinks.
What surprised me most? How positive and upbeat rehearsal was tonight. Everyone was encouraging, supportive, in a good mood. We laughed together on break and a musician in the band talked to me at break and said, "This is a totally different room from last night."
I have never veered so close to catastrophe before, so maybe I'm inexperienced in this phenomenon, but J said it today and maybe he was right: "Sometimes all you need is a little bit of terror."
Tonight, a lot of things happened. A lot of unexpected, dramatic in the not-good way, hard to handle things happened.
At the end of it, my stage manager said to me: "I am so glad you're here. You handled that so well."
To which I said: "I'm really just winging this whole production manager thing. 30% of it is that I know what I'm doing and 70% is that I know these boys."
Patterns, peeps. Patterns.
(I've decided I'm starting this tech's posts with load in because, as a production manager, my madness has begun. All day at STT today: woo-hoo.)
I chose pattens because this show is so unique in the patterns it hold for me; I'm learning a new role in theater, I'm making art with old friends. Set pattens, new patterns, breaking patterns. All day, every day.
When Tessie was here last week, she pointed out a certain patten I fall into with "my boys," the director and playwright/musical director of Ribbons of War: I don't really like to share them.
By that, I mean I don't share them well. To rephrase again: I don't share them well with women. Okay, I'm going to specify to the detriment of my reputation with any readers that I may have: I do not like women who A + J find sexually attractive becoming close friends with them. There. I said it.
For some reason, who knows what it is, it bothers me. I am not attracted to either of them, so that isn't it. (And yes, I can see you rolling your eyes at me, but it's true.) I just start to really distrust whatever prettyfriendwoman comes into their life, even if she's a close friend of mine to begin with. I get uneasy, like she is trying to trick or trap them. Or, I get mad, because I think the boys are only seeing her beauty and don't give a shit about her as a person.
The feelings I have are something deep and close to all my emotional wind chimes, so when they go knocking about everything start ringing in a horror movie terrible kind of way, when you just know someone is outside your house, rattling those wind chimes and waiting to come in and get you.
(N.B: I just REALLY freaked myself out writing that description, because it is 2am and my house is quiet and we don't even OWN wind chimes but now I'm just sitting here listening for them...)
I wonder if this "back off, bitch" pattern comes from another pattern I've set with them, which is essentially the Serious Mom Pattern. Because, god lord, I am those boys' mother right now. I rub their backs, I make sure they've eaten, I yell at them when they break the rules, I congratulate and encourage them when I think they're doing well, I remind them to do their chores, I schedule all their meetings and their play dates.
Whether or not the Serious Mom Pattern causes the Bitch, Please Pattern, I need to break them both. It's unhealthy and leaves me unhappy.
Ribbons of War goes into tech on Tuesday and I'm scared in an entirely new way.
Normally, I'm worried about all the things that are MY responsibility (which is a lot when you're a stage manager) and I make lists and fret and agonize. This time though, I get to worry about EVERYTHING that is EVERYONE's responsibility. It's freeing and horrifying.
As a production manager, I really don't DO much during tech. I'll run the notes session after each rehearsal and I'll support my SM throughout but other than that? I have a feeling I'll just sit and watch.
The scary part is tomorrow - Monday - load in. This is when I get to orchestrate a beautiful chaos that is everything arriving all in one day. I've made a schedule, rented a van, set aside time to go to the space today and clean but I still have a stone in the pit of my stomach.
I don't think it will go away until we're all good and closed.
So this has been the longest break I've ever taken from this blog: almost a whole month.
It was not intentional, life just got busier than normal (but maybe it's to be expected in my life, what with the holidays bring what they are?) and I stopped. And then stayed stopped for a good week or two. I let myself get wrapped up in the "coming back to it" post, rather than simply posting. I've had a lot going on recently and I wasn't sure what to write about. So I'll do a mishmash and just see where that gets me. That's how I seem to live my life, in any case.
New Years Resolutions
I didn't make any this year. I don't normally, but I always stop and consider what it would be if I wanted to take this resolution business seriously. This year is different because I made a serious life resolution in August and I'm not going to add anything on top of it, anything to distract me. I know what I need to do, what I've changed and what I need to keep changing.
(N.B. If all goes well, I will write a post about this particular resolution come the middle of February. It's a secret/not-a-secret/something-a-lot-of-people-have-already-guessed but whatever. Saying it aloud is difficult for me, so I have a specific time I want to SAY it.)
Kip Moore
I got a $25 iTunes gift certificate for Chrismakah and the only thing I have bought with it thus far is his album, Up All Night. I never buy music, much less full albums. I think the last three CDs I've bought have all been Mary Chapin Carpenter's and that is because she sings my soul and deserves my money. But I bought Kip's. I guess he's my new country music boyfriend.
(Though Blake Shelton will always be my country music husband, I don't give a shit about that Miranda TRAMPbert.)
My Robot
Yeah, I got an iPhone. Yeah, it's amazing. Yeah. maybe I'm a consumerist American piece of shit. I'll deal. I love my little robot.
Boys
Le sigh.
Being Sick
Kelly (my boss) and I got in a little fight about this yesterday.
The low down: I became severely ill the weekend before Christmas (later diagnosed as strep) and had to work a three show weekend through it, because, well, I had to. I flew home with a 101 degree fever, laid on my parent's couch and drank theraflu, came back to run a seven show week, blah blah blah - I was really sick for a whole week. Then I was better for three days and now I have a cold/fever/something.
Our fight yesterday this went like this:
Kelly: "I want you to not come in tomorrow."
Olivia: "Are you sure? I know that the Russians are open but Lost Boy is still in previews and - "
Kelly: "I want you not to come in tomorrow. Rest. Sleep. Get better. I'd tell you not to work but I know that I'm wasting my breath." Olivia: "... ... ..."
Kelly: "You are going to work, aren't you? If I give you the day off?"
Olivia: "Not work work. Just paperwork. Stuff I can do in bed."
Kelly: "How about no work?"
Olivia: "... ... ..."
Kelly: "Right. Okay. Never mind."
Am I abnormal? There is just so much to do.
She was telling Sergey (my new gay Russian boyfriend) the other night that I have no life. I got a little indigent and cut her off saying, "Hey! I have friends! Just cause I don't take time for the boyfriend or pet I don't have doesn't mean -", which Kelly caught off by saying, "How are you supposed to get a boyfriend with your schedule?" Okay, ouch, Zakis. Touche, but OUCH.
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