Ida is feverishly working with a classroom of 24 students who are, by turns, giggling, talking to each other, raising the roof, and vaguely paying attention. Blocking her fifth grade residency students continues to be a raucous event, though not without its longuers...no, there are no longuers, only sound and fury. One of the classroom teachers speaks an aside.
TM: Ida, how much do you drink when you get home?
Ida: Do you mean before I get here?
It continues.
After last night's tech run, we decided that the show should be renamed Fuck You, Snow Days!
To clarify, this was decided in the production meeting, not while the students were still at the theatre.
Monday's run wasn't all that bad, but last night I just wanted to hide my head in the hay. And hay can really make my eyes itch, so it was bad enough for me to be willing to subject myself to a different pain. Of course, as Monday's run was okay, it is possible that they will all step up tonight. Possible.
My work list is waaaaaaaay too long for the day before opening, though. If we'd had those six rehearsals we missed, it would at least be more manageable. I'm not really one to complain about not having had enough rehearsal after a full rehearsal schedule, but it turns out that I am one to complain about a forced missing of a week and a half of rehearsals. Cripes!
It opens tomorrow night. And you know what that means? That's right, only my stage manager has to watch it every time after that.
(Let's hope there's a follow-up post to this one, eh?)
((PS We have internet at home again. Therefore, if I stab anyone with a knitting needle, it will make the police report.))
UPDATE: 5:15pm
I just walked into the theatre while a girl, who was looking at our set, said "This is going to be so amazing, seeing this come to life after we've spent all this time stuyding it."
And I remembered: art is about perspective. No matter what happens with this show, there will be audience members to whom it means something important. That what they see on stage makes what they imagined while studying more real, whether they agree with this production or not. That they are watching their peers on stage, allowing them to know that they can have such an opportunity. That many of the choices we made in this production, though not new to me, will be wildly new ideas to those in our audience.
So, rehearsal hasn't started yet and who knows how it will go tonight, but there are invisible benefits that I have to trust.
Beyond the invisible, I have tangible and edible chocolate.
That's my favorite spam name of the day. Good ol' Jacky; you can always count on her/him to help you with your book report.
But the true point of this entry is to say that we finally ordered up internet for our home--we're going back to couch-style.
Which is also to say: I just had to order some knitting needles online so I could stab myself in the eye because of the music currently playing in this cafe.
Now I shall buy some cheese. (But not online. From the grocery store connected to this cafe.)
I'm assuming everyone remembers the Terrible Trivium from The Phantom Tollbooth, but I'll go ahead and frame him for you:
Milo, Tock, and the Humbug are nearing the Castle in the Air. Just when they are this close they are stopped by a well-dressed, faceless man with an extremely pleasant voice. The man kindly asks for their help and they are only too willing to give it as he is so gentle. Their tasks are to empty a well with an eye-dropper, to dig a hole through a mountain with a needle, and to move a mountainous pile of sand from one spot to another with a pair of tweezers. They work on these tasks for a very long time until it finally occurs to them that they have been distracted. More or less.
So, a few years ago I realized that the Terrible Trivium is not always out to give people absolutely meaningless tasks, that in everyday life that pleasant, faceless man can take the form of activities that one finds meaningful and valuable but can still distract one from a larger and possibly more important goal in big picture perspective.
In my case, ol' TT shows up in much of the teaching that I do. Not that I find myself taking dreary residencies or choosing to teach in a style that I find repugnant: I'm working with interesting people and have been offered a variety of curricular challenges...but I'm getting bored. This brings me to another pop culture reference, that of a performance piece on Alive From Off Center about a woman whose mother told her never to learn to make good potato salad because, if she did, people would always ask her to bring her amazing potato salad and forget that she could do other things...be careful what you get good at.
I'm a very good teacher. I am well-organized. I have innovative ideas. I can work with a wide range of ages and abilities. I'm funny. I can think on my feet. I am very patient. (Before you go pointing fingers, I am patient with students. I am much less patient in everyday situations with adults.)
But I'm bored. And burnt out. I have plans to take a sabbatical. During that sabbatcial, I'll try something difficult and new. Maybe four things difficult and new. I'm excited even typing those words.
I know I haven't died yet because I was at a meeting yesterday that was inspring and exciting to me even though it was just about planning a week of training. Details! Theory! I eat you for breakfast!
But not everyday anymore. I've developed too many allergies...even though it tastes so good.
Why have just one metaphor when you can mix them altogether, huh?
You do, actually. He is the child who once told me I smelled good. And wore a muscle shirt whilst playing Oxen 3.
I was asked if I knew him while at a middle school a few weeks ago and I had to restrain myself from grabbing said asker by the shoulders and saying "Yes, yes! I know B! Where is he? Is he here? Can I see him? Do you think it'd be weird if I named my own child B? Do you? Huh? Huh?"
Instead, I just said "Why, yes." And then did some class stuff about hornets, vampires, and police chases. (Duh, what do you do with middle schoolers?)
In conclusion, I'm sick and tired of these snow days with no snow. I know it exists in other places, but today it made me miss my favorite residency and a much-needed tech (but for a play I'm alternately hating and enjoying, so maybe it balances out).