I'm Me

First of all, in Perfect Friend news, she has been cast as Thelma in The Trip to Bountiful at Lyric Arts! Hurray for Perfect Friend. Now, if you are dying to know who she "really" is, you can go see her perfect performance in this glorious show!

I wish I had written last night as I intended to, because every rehearsal leaves me with an entirely different emotional experience to wrestle through. I've said that this one is tricky. It is tricky because there are things I want to process and write about and share that quite simply, I can't - at least not yet, and certainly not here. These are things that I have to tuck away and hope to have an outlet for in some other capacity.

Sunday night was very fun. One of our castmates has been (and is still) involved in another show and so had sadly missed the first couple weeks of rehearsal. On Sunday, he was able to join us at last and I really enjoyed talking with him backstage...which is where I spend the bulk of my evenings these days. But I love it. It really is a benefit of having a "smaller" part...the potential to bond with the rest of the cast on a level that has nothing to do with the characters we are playing on stage.

There is also a certain level of awkwardness to backstage bonding. For example, at one time, there were three of us backstage, and I was telling an enthralling story. During the course of my tale, one of the other two had to leave to go on stage to say some lines or something. And so I had a brief moment of terror, wondering if the remaining person would have any interest hearing the rest of my story...and he did...much to my relief. At another point, again while there were three of us present, someone else was telling an (though slightly less, I'm sure) enthralling story. Again, during the course of the story, the other person present had to go act or some such nonsense. I was struck this time with a different, and worse, sort of terror. Would the person continue their story, even with me being the only available audience? Yes, they would...much to my relief.

Tonight, however, a less desirable scenario occurred. I was telling a (presumably not enthralling) story, and during the process, the eyes of my audience of three wandered away into a different conversation happening across the room. My dear 15 year old friend said, "Jessica, I'M listening to your story." And I happily finished it for her. Ugh. Sometimes it's hard to be human...and I hate being neurotic and insecure.

Tonight was also...shall we say...interesting...because some of the back stage conversation took an absurdly surreal turn. Things were said that I can't write about, because this is a PG (or PG-13 at it's worst) rated blog. Oddly, I find those turns somehow comforting. I absolutely love it when people put their cards out and let themselves be known...I love it when people don't pretend to be something or someone other than what they really are. It sounds contradictory, I suppose, what with theater being a catalyst for hiding behind characters and masks. But I think that has always been what I've found so exhilarating about theater; that although, naturally, there are phonies and frauds, there is also incredible sincerity. People get to just be. I wonder if it's got something to do with the transient nature of a show...people have the opportunity to come together as strangers and in the course of the experience, they can remain strangers, or they can let out all their crap and see what happens. It's safe, because it's temporary...and then when it's over...it's over. Or it goes on. Whatever.