23 Feb 2009, 1:07am
1 comment

construction (centering, leveling)

today after rehearsal i made my way to my friends’ apartment in sellwood, ate food and hung out for awhile, rambled my imaginary drama to willing ears. a few hours after dark, i walked the three or four miles home by myself, listening to ani difranco’s little plastic castle until my ipod’s battery charge ran out. nothing like a nice cliché to make a girl feel like she’s a part of something. i saw a heron in westmoreland park, and woke up all the ducks and geese.

i am feeling wildly uncentered these days. it’s bad timing.

in the past week or so, i have broken four things, including:
the lcd screen on my little camera;
a mason jar i used for carrying smoothies around;
my french press, by dropping a mug on it,
which also broke.

this week is tech week for the show i’m stage managing right now. in theory, that’s when all the disparate elements of the show–set, costumes, lighting, direction, etc–come together to create the finished (but not static, of course–viva live theatre!) work of art. in practice, it’s organized chaos. it’s my job to keep the emphasis on “organized” and off of “chaos.”

we’ll see how i do. (i mean, i’m not bad at it or anything. tech week is often my favorite part of the whole process. but i’m intimidated by the number of props and costumes in this show, or something.)

and then there’s the other thing that’s happening this week. i’ve been waiting for it more or less since i started writing this blog, and the waiting itself has taken on such strange significance that the imminent approach of the actual event is messing me up somethin’ bad. i am even resisting (!) it even though i have been counting down the months and weeks, even though i know the waiting is hurting me, even though i know that regardless of what happens next–well, at least i won’t be waiting. and hell, i’m hopeful. que sera, sera.

awhile ago i was talking to a friend of mine about feeling young and lost (i think. i only remember what she said, not the specific context of her advice or even, to be honest, which friend it was. i swear i wrote about the conversation in my journal, but can find no reference to it. wherever these things come from, there they are.) and she said that someone had once told her to imagine who she wanted to be when she was old, what kind of old woman she wanted to be–and then make the decisions that would help her to become that woman. oooh, i want to be here. i want to have been here. a brightly-painted house, an overgrown garden with fruit trees and blueberries and a vegetable plot. a community, houseguests, housecats, a porch. maybe a family. but i want to have done everything else, too…? yes…?

i am full of escapist fantasies, but as soon as i tell people about them and start to take them seriously, i change my mind, or anyway it doesn’t have the same urgency it did the day before. the peace corps, the pacific crest trail, farm internships, voluntary homelessness, whatever whatever, i don’t know, i know i don’t have to know.

i don’t think i like stage managing, really. the more i do it the more impatient and unhappy i feel doing it. great, great. i will abandon my very-low-paying inconsistent “career” for–what? copy editing for my parents’ business? okay. (i mean, i dunno, maybe it’s this week or this winter or the morning ache in my collarbone or the phases of the moon or or or…) maybe it’s as good a time as any… oh i am so fucking blessed. you wanna know how so? i got hit by a car this summer. and on friday, a woman i hadn’t previously met in person but to whom i’d spoken plenty by phone and email came to my house, and i signed a piece of paper, and she handed me a check, and my economic worries are over for a nice long while, probably. isn’t that weird? isn’t that SO FUCKING WEIRD?

now onto the existential worries!

please don’t ever get the false impression that i have any bleepin’ clue what i’m talking about.

come friday, i will have something else to say. unless i don’t. spring is coming; i know i’ve mentioned that. it rained today, but i can tell it’s spring rain because it smells like autumn rain. a little dusty. seasons they are a-changin’.

can’t tell you what my life feels like, but here’s some pieces of what it looks like, anyway–

10 Mar 2009, 7:44pm
by lauraliz

i LOVE the mustache picture! jonathan is such an excited charlie chaplain slash trucker!

the advice to make decisions based on the older woman that you want to become came from a unitarian universalist sermon, given by a wonderful man whose name escapes me. it was the UU answer to the what-would-Jesus-do epidemic.



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saturday  peace