12:15 p.m. - 10/12/02
did they love you or what?
Sometimes the sharpness near my heart reminds me that I have one. The pain of missing reminds me I have loved. I realized that in writing Shannon yesterday, and again just now- seeing someone on a message board use a tribute to people along their recovery as a signature. Sometimes the absolute longing for home reminds me that I've had one, and I don't know if that's harder than never having known one or not, but it's still a gift. I can't say it isn't a gift, to have been so blessed, even if it's gone now. And it isn't gone now. I'm going to ask Dr. R to help me reach this goal of being able to talk with them by the tenth of November (anniversary of discharge), so that maybe I've a chance. If nothing else, I want him to know I have it as a need. I don't want to see him just after and have to explain how much pain I'm in and why...
Still temporarily a tenant of my heart-and-head. Still homeless outside memory.
The week is unofficially over; technically today is still a part. I believe I'm off to chill with siblings and the matriarch sometime this afternoon. No play, though- no workshops, no crazy college kids. I'll miss it definitely, but I know- once again- a bit more of what I do/ do not need inside my own life. I know that waves *are* good, are balancing, that I need the ups and the downs, not speaking simply of emotion, but of stimulation also. I need quiet to balance the noise, and space to balance the relation. I need the energy to love as deeply as I do and that can only come with "meditation"- with time to myself however I see fit to use it. I'm sure there is more I've learned here, but it takes time for these things to surface into logical translation. It takes time for me to articulate in English what I know in the language of my skin.
I feel like starting with last night, in terms of recapping. I don't feel like going all the way back to Thursday, considering that- in depth of time- that was probably a good week-and-a-half ago. I'll start with Friday (regarding which my horoscope found it fit to ask, "Mary, are you too popular?") and maybe Thursday will find her way in.
We were crazy late getting there, and I don't have a good idea why. In part, I kept estimating our departure time based on my dad's driving instead of my mom's, and Marybeth- who's been staying with us- and my mom are both a little slow to the car, it seems. I also ran around changing at the last minute because Marybeth and I had just gotten back from an oh-so-exciting trip to Wal-Mart, and my ever-so-thin peasant shirt had *still* managed to be too warm. Gyuh- isn't it fall? So I came home and put on a little boy's white t-shirt that I have yet to attack with my fabric markers, a weirdo black skirt, green/white kneesocks, and klunky black shoes. I finished it off with a purply-green "I am not your Barbie doll" pin, which was the toned-down Midwest version of my "Fuck Your Fascist Beauty Standards" t-shirt (which I do wear here, and would completely have worn last night- except that Roselyn and some of her young friends as well as my grandmother and great-aunts were in attendance, and I felt weird about that). We listened to Malaika and Winter Machine on the drive up (down? sideways?) and I felt very much like a punky version of myself. I think Fashion Strategies has been surprisingly good for me. It's made me even more aware that I need to throw my personality out to the world with what I wear- in large part because the class is so scary I feel the need to rebel. Apparently, my great-aunts had some things to say about the socks, too, but that's ok. The nice thing about not *trying* to conform is you no longer care if you've managed it. All in all, I was pleased to be myself. Every moment of that is still an adventure, still a novelty.
We were oh-so-late arriving; people were already showing up for the performance. It was fine, as my pre-show duties generally consist of unballing Saran wrap to make a river, and they managed just fine without me. The main problem, of sorts, was that I had told Alex we could do that "interview" before the performance, since I planned to arrive at 6:30 or 7:00 for an 8:00 curtain, and he came at 6:30. I didn't arrive until almost and hour later, and at that point was running around greeting people and trying to, erm, avoid him. The boy was hovering on the sidelines as usual, all decked out in black with tight pants and a fitted skull t-shirt, a long black coat and dark sunglasses. (Sunglasses which he wore, for the record, even in the dark-as-hell black box theater...Yeah.) I kept, without completely meaning to, a few steps ahead of him- always running out of a group just as he came in. I didn't manage to talk to anyone much, which made me a little sad. I would have especially liked to have a better conversation with Roselyn, who is still into crocheting! eep!, but I think she'll come visit sometime soon, so that makes me happy. I hugged my grandma and my two great-aunts, managed to look like a complete idiot by not recognizing two women from the art opening (one of whom I've met a thousand times, and really just couldn't *see* because it was so dark), and flipped out a bit at the lack of a Superdoc. I tried not to pay attention to the last part, as I didn't really want to care, and people kept handing me flowers, and an English prof I met during my middle school years had come to see the show- not to mention my Scotty and two unidentified girls (I only heard they were there, and couldn't guess for sure who they might be.) I was really surprised that Scott was there, even though- as he pointed out- I shouldn't have been; I just hadn't heard from him that he was coming. The band director from middle school and her husband (who were really psyched) manage to not make it, but I was really blown out of my stratosphere by the event anyway. And anticipating seeing them was almost as good as actually doing so. Or at least, I can pretend that's true. I basically mean I wasn't terribly disappointed, at the same time I'm aware of how good it was to see Chas and Brookie on Thursday. Those girls! Goodness. Watching them walk up was like complete dream material. I had the marvelous dilemma of not knowing who to hug first, so Chas picked Brooke, and I began. It was really very wonderful, and it confirmed the suspicion that I have to see Brooke more often. I forget that she's kind of shy- because she does all these things I'm so amazed by, I assume she must just be a superwoman, or something- which she is, but she also blushes when I tell her she's my idol, which is nice. Although I do wish she could take it in. We had a crazy wonderful talk beforehand, and afterward they were almost speechless. Brooke told me once again how talented I was, and Chas, much quieter than before, told me she'd be in touch, and be sure I always let them know. It was truly lovely, and I know it would have been truly lovely with the others as well, but all things in their time, I s'pose.
S'pose. I am so from the Midwest.
So, yes, I was late and blew off Alex, but there were lots of good moments to be had. During the show itself, it especially exciting to think of who was in the audience, since (thankfully) in the dark, I couldn't see. To know that Scott was somewhere in there, watching it, for instance, was just a really wonderful thought. It was magic; it was so unreal. Especially with those people I'd been told had come, but hadn't seen, the idea of them being there was really magical. Almost as much as afterward. Almost as much as seeing the play.
I've seen it so so many times now, between rehearsals and performances. I know the lines so well I could fluently recite it in Pig Latin, but all the same, it hits me every time. I never expect it to; I always think, this time my mind will wander. Instead, I'm aware that I have chills, that my heart's stopped, that I'm nearing tears. It's incredible to be a part of, really; I've seen so much work be put into it, and the moments when they play up certain parts, when new things blossom and old ones return, are really marvelous to see. Knowing what exercise that came from, what conversation birthed that point, is really wonderful. I have the awe of a first-time viewer with the back-knowledge of an infiltrating spy.
Roxanne, also, did not make it. I just remembered that. I was boo-hooed not to get to see her and ask what she's up to, but all the same, I doubt we won't cross paths. It's nice to have that sort of faith; it helps to have friends I know could track her if I asked. I guarantee that Scott and crew have kept in touch with her. His crew last night consisted of Amy and Erin, which was really marvelous as well. I haven't seen Amy in so long, and she's really fabulous. I have a theory Erin is fabulous as well, but we never got to know each other all too well. They brought me flowers, which was absolutely sweet, and Scott told me how it was so amazing and he was going to call me to explain it to him, which very much amused me. I know he understands it; he's just the type to want to see it several more times (a common type with this play, actually) and can't because the run is finished. It was really good to see them, though, to have the support of classmates; my N*land ration seemed a bit low- since I count Chas and Brooke separate from that crowd. I'm not really sure why I do that, except that they're so exceptional to the population there, but then again, so are Scott and Amy and most likely Erin. I'm babbling; I was glad to see them, case-and-point.
Dodie, who may be remembered as the dear friend of my mom's who (with her husband) almost single-handedly paid for my stay at Rogers, did come to see it yesterday. Afterward, she was quiet and tearful, and I felt a little sorry because we don't seem to get through a performance without doing that to *one* of my mom's friends (Thursday night it was Marybeth.) She really enjoyed it, though, which made me all happy-like. The whole experience made me all happy-like, even as it was stimulating me beyond my capacity to regulate. Jeff, the English prof, really liked it also; apparently he sat near my mom and just kept saying "Beautiful" afterward, which is quite the compliment considering the source, even though it's amusing considering the content of the play. Similar to how the content of the play makes the gift of cut flowers a bit afterward a bit odd. (But I still enjoyed the flowers. I have a theory about flowers: that they need to come from an unexpected source in order to be marvelous. Getting flowers from Scotty was absolutely grand. Getting flowers from my parents makes me bow my head a little doggedly. It's a different vibe. I like flowers that come without the sense of obligation...but I do enjoy the pretty vases decorating my house now. I have the ones from Shane opening night, from Nana and Scotty, and from Annie (the artist who had an opening a week or two ago). So the house is full of blossoms for a bit.
I'm kind of rushing through my emotional state during all this, as I think we're supposed to leave the house by two, and I have yet to shower, gather myself. I like that I'm glossing over thing, actually, because there was a lot of oddly-placed pain, I'm not sure how to discuss. I'm so used to my illness being the reason for good things not being good that the idea of happiness never being a concrete emotion is new to me. I didn't know how unlikely it is for an hour to be *purely* happy, without any weirdness or pain. And there was a bit of both. Weirdness, mostly consisting of the Alex fiasco (which ended a bit abruptly with me apologizing for being late, then- to his silence, asking if he was ok, to which he replied "uh, no" with a shrug, and I just sort of shuffled quickly away- not in the mood to comfort a creepy guy- again) and pain, mostly consisting of I'm-still-not-sure-what. The second night it was largely surrounding Superdoc, but I don't think it went *toward* him so much as I expected in the moment. I'll wait a bit on that.
After Thursday night's show was really great, too. Except that the first thing someone said to me was my friend Justin's comment of, "I think I'll stick to the Bard. He makes more sense," which really made me want to kick him. As Joe said, "Who DOES that? You say it was wonderful no matter what. You say it was great." I really do agree, despite the joy of integrity. I wasn't expecting the kid to make my night (I wasn't even expecting him to show) but you don't try and ruin it, you know? I saw him as a soldier in Oedipus Rex (fucking Sophocles) and told him it was fabulous. It helped that a second later, Shane kept up to me, speechless and awe-filled, and ended up just hugging me in response. It healed my heart a bit, and brought Justin to say, "Well, apparently, I don't know what I'm talking about" to which I wanted to reply, "Damn straight, freak" but...didn't. The good news is I'm happy enough with the piece that his opinion didn't change that for me. It hurt, of course, but it didn't take away what I think of the piece. Then again, it was Justin, as opposed to, say, Chas. Then *again,* Chas would never say she preferred "the Bard."
Speaking of Chas, when we talked before the opening performance, she mentioned my having asked her if she knew where Mandy was. I hadn't heard from Mandy since the end of the summer, despite her having heard from me a few times, and I was, as is my fashion, starting to worry a bit. She said she didn't know, that she hadn't heard from her in some time, and neither had another teacher, who was even closer to her, both of which did little to filter my worry. Chas pointed out that she might be busy or going through a hard time, and I said I knew- mostly that was what I was worried about; I just want the chance to be there for her at all times. That night I came home to find a message from her in my inbox that, if I cried at happy things more often, would have made me weep. She was sorry for her absence, and really wished she could see the play. The way she articulated wanting to be there was compensation enough for her not making it. I mean that honestly. It wasn't the same of course; I can't hug a piece of paper, but such words as those will make my heart a little less heavy in my chest. She isn't gone, thank God; I'm tired of that fear. She isn't gone, and she never has been. She said as much. She said she's always here with me.
Afterward-Thursday also consisted of a great conversation out in front of the theater with lots of laughing and interesting people. The girl-who-played-Alice under Sarah's direction in Alice and Wonderland was there. Earlier in the week, we were doing an exercise where you played with word, and she used "lollipop" to gently seduce Rachel, which made my stomach flop a bit. She reminded me of a sillier, more light-hearted Jenna, and I hadn't really spoken with her during the week so it was cool that she was there. As was John-Allen, this amazingly helpful liberal arts major, who simply dwarfs me with his stature. He does an amusing happy dance and came the first night in a kilt, prompting me to discuss my men's skirts project from fashion class. The kid-who-is-probably-not-named-Alex was there, too, and was really into it. He's extremely hilarious and gave me several chances to connect with him before we actually managed it; I always falter when I'm not sure what is expected of me, so I was grateful that he kept putting himself out there until I took the lead. Ben, who was also in Alice, (who wore a shirt with a penguin that said something like "I Want To Fly" and gave me his e-mail so we could share plays), was there also, and was very cool. I'll be happy to run into him these next few months, as I do everything in my power to make it to their production of Angels In America, and later the one-act festival, in which he has a piece. He wants to direct more experimental things he said, and he also does some writing, so it would be really good for us to keep in touch, on top of the fact that he's just a pretty fabulous person. Other fabulous people include Tim, who absolutely saved our lives with his lighting design, even though he wouldn't take credit. He kept saying how he just "hoped it was ok" and we were like, "Boy, you saved the show!" He's an absolute sweetheart, gave me a hug goodbye, and said thanks for the opportunity to see this show. He actually bought Sarah a beer and when she said, "Dude, I owe you one! For the lights!" he replied, "You let me see that show three times. You don't owe me anything," and I was like, "Dear"...That must be why I wanted to mention him earlier in the week because he's just *so great* to talk to, but I couldn't remember any of the exact moment. I was also confused as Chiara's sister, which prompted much sisterliness between us (not even leading up to all the hugs goodbye and, "I'm really going to miss you!"s and email-exchange.) I also got to hug Rachel goodbye, even though it's not goodbye, and hear her thank me for the text. I thanked her for performing it so well, as I always do. I can't imagine anyone understanding Julia as much as she does, and it thrills me to watch. The two of them are absolutely grand, and I'm so grateful to see it night after night. So amazed.
Sarah's David, who she danced with and loved muchly during college, also came, and he's ever so easygoing now that he's gay and good with it. We had a nice talk which was really swell, and I witnessed a nice talk between him and Steve which also did my heart good. I like David a lot, and I'd like to see him in Sarah's life a bit, so he can be in mine a bit, too, but Steve is wonderful, and I wouldn't want weirdness there. Steve cracked me up a bit because when I saw him first, he already knew about the whole Alex-ordeal, and was agreeing to be my bodyguard (the dude's like twelve feet tall)- plus he was the first person to laugh heartily at my execution of orders from Joe. Joe called me on my way to the theater to say that he wished he could be there, but was three hours away and if he tried to drive his care five-hundred miles an hour it might explode, so he'd have to do the whole "in spirit" thing. He also told me I needed to get crazy drunk (I refrained from that part...) and scream at people, "I WROTE A HIT PLAY! WHAT DID YOU EVER DO?" and I knew Steve would dig that, since he's such a Rushmore fan.
I also got to hang out and bond a bit with Sarah's old roommate, who is also Mary, over what it's like to be the youngest and what it's like to live up to Sarah. We had some laughs and some good friendship. She's the most amazing girl. Before you realize you have a problem, she has it solved. On top of which, she's really easygoing, easy to know. It made me all happy-like.
Perhaps the most amazing response, though that's a competition I don't know that I could judge, was that of Griv, the professor I talked with over lunch during the first day. He came up to me afterward looking somewhere between speechless and proud, and hugged me close, which is absolutely nice in a moment like that. He told me that it was incredible, that the writing was absolutely incredible, and when he said that he'd love to read more, I risked a bit and asked if he wanted my contact info. He actually took my e-mail, and I felt like a celebrity with all the luck. I would not mind having this man appear randomly in moments of low self-esteem. I would not mind having him appear in general.
Sarah and Rachel were also very much in shock after talking to them. When they had him in college, he would always reply to scenes along the lines of, "It was good. But you can take it further. You didn't astonish me. I want you to astonish me." So when he came up to Sarah and started to compliment it, she said, "Yes, but did we *astonish* you?" and he said, a bit surprised himself, "Yes, actually. You did." I think Sarah fell into a wall.
It's almost too amazing to describe. Affirmation like that. It's almost too incredible to take in.
And I'm going to stop there. Because the weirdness with Dr. R is honestly separate from the play, and is honestly not a bad thing. There are most likely other parts I've forgotten but if I don't shower now, I might find myself headless in another thirty minutes. I could do another two-hour journaling today, but there simply isn't time. I knew this day was still on this week's schedule. Oh, I would like another week to chill a bit, but still have all the love.
I still have all the love...
chord
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