SHORT:
I have been thinking about giving. And what it means to give something to yourself.
MEDIUM:
I’m directing a one person show.
It goes up tonight.
The performer, Gara, has written a beautiful piece about girlhood, and trans-ness, and sticking your feet in places they shouldn’t be.
The most effective parts of the show, in rehearsal, have been the moments where Gara gives the show to themself.
Where they’re grounded, belly-out, eyes a bit blurred– caught in a memory.
Working through past emotions in real-time.
Not performing, but sorting.
Trying to reconnect with their past self in a soft, sensitive, and loving way.
I think both of us are anxious.
For this evening.
Not because we haven’t prepared.
Not because we think the show will bomb.
But because, as performers, 20-somethings, etc. we are still stuck in the ferocious wind tunnel hellscape that is “here-i-am-love me-want me-please-god-think-I’m-smart-and-funny” (despite both desperately trying to rid ourselves of these wants and needs).
I still walk outside every day and am hit with a big gust of “want-wind”. It blows my hair back. Makes me shiver in a violent way. Sends my jacket flappin’ and flying. And I just lean forward, I guess. Push through and get to the train.
But I will say, this process has made it easier to navigate ~the gusts~.
I said yes to directing this show even though I was certain I didn’t know how to direct.
I’m not sure I really have a tangible grasp on what “directing” means now, after the fact, but I’m extremely thankful for the opportunity, and really excited for this evening.
How often do you get to watch someone dance and sing and make jokes and re-gift their old self to their new self?
I could cry.
It will be so great.
And
Also
If the tech cues get fucked up?
I’m gonna have a conniption :)
LONG:
I am so tired of having to explain my existence! It’s a TON of emotional LABOR!
(I am of course talking about my existence as someone who earnestly loves Sara Bareilles).
I did a show yesterday for the first time in a long while.
I listened to SB on the way, despite having a raging headache, and prayed to the lord that I would randomly get a burst of serotonin and delusional confidence/energy before getting onstage.
God did not answer my prayers in this way.
But he did provide me with two blonde girls in the front row who are both dating men who work at Barstool Sports.
Every time I talk to a man who works at barstool sports, I turn into an 80’s cabaret chanteuse. I lean back, drink in my hand, swirl it around, and go: “Barstool Sports? What kinda sport do ya do on a barstool? Sitting and farting? That’s the only thing I’ve ever done on a barstool.”
I’m back in my randomly throwing up for no reason era!
I was getting into the shower the other day thinking about how my old roommate is now friends with Taylor Swift, and then all of a sudden I felt like I was gonna pass out and I was like oh god if I faint naked in this bathroom and die and the police find me dead later because I live alone, they’re gonna be like “this person’s bathroom’s kinda dirty”. I hope they also would be like, “but they have cool tattoos, and a rockin bod!”
Anyway, I didn’t faint. I just sat on the ground for a bit and then threw up.
Is this fun to read about?
Whatever.
It’s been basically what my whole week has been about.
So.
Deal w/ it!
*cut to me in a big graphic tee that says: Deal w/ it!!!*
Anyway. I don’t know what’s up. Time to go back to the doctor that told me that “we’re all miracles”. Remember that?
Speaking of Taylor Swift, she released the new All Too Well 10 minute version and SORRY! I like the old one better.
The 10 minute version (and tumblr-ass movie that came with it) did make me go into this weird waking dream where I was Jake Gyllenhaal's dad and Jake was dating someone named Jill and she came into the house/ front hall while Jake was in his room, so I looked at her and SMILED WIDE and then yelled, "Jake!!! Jill In Hall!!!"
and we laaaffff laff laff laff laffed
because that was so hilarious of me to say
…
I also just remembered that, the night before I threw up, I drank a “cold brew infused peanut butter smoothie” at 6pm and then went to bed, so the incident could’ve just been triggered by THAT and maybe I don’t have to go back to the “human beings are so complex and stunning” doctor.
Or maybe I will go to her and be like, “If we’re so stunning then why did I drink a cold brew infused peanut butter smoothie at 6pm and then collapse on my bathroom floor the next morning, bitch!!!!!???”
If you’re my mother reading this, I promise to god I’m fine.
Exaggeration and unhinged rhetoric are the key to COMEDY.
But really, I’m doing ok, Denise!!!
I haven’t had another incident since the aforementioned one!
Living alone is safe I promise!
…
Other things that happened this week:
-A girl at a show told me she conceived her child while listening to the podcast I used to produce
-I told the people at Starbucks that they need to upgrade their bagels to good tasting ones and then they’d be billionaires
-I decided that I need to stop knowing people
…
C u next Tuesday
Thank you for subscribing. If this is your first time reading the newsletter, read the archives. Sometimes it’s funny, sometimes it’s not – it’s very much like when people slip on ice.
Sincerely,
Reid
Venmo: @rpope-venmo-26