do you believe in

do you believe in strangers, finding that they are old angels

Surprise, SURPRISE!
Guess who’s doing 14/48?

(Better) Nate (than Never) called me last night in a blind frenzy, telling me in half jibberish and half yiddish that if I wanted to be an alternate for 14/48 that I needed to call THIS NUMBER as SOON AS POSSIBLE. When I didn’t respond immediately (I was waiting for Billy to get home) he came to my APARTMENT and stood outside my window so that he could yell at me when I didn’t pick up the phone. After a five minute conversation I remember very little of, except that I was sweating at a very high speed, he took off into the night, and I was left panting and not really knowing why. The end result of all of this was: I called the number, spoke to someone named Megan, got off the phone, realized Nate had left me a voice mail, checked the voicemail, and realized I’d been talking to Megan Moloney without even realizing it was her. I felt like quite the dumb little piece of shit.

So, I called my temp agency’s paging service and left a message that I might only be able to work until ten or ten thirty, asked if it was okay, blah blah blah. When I awoke this morning five minutes before I was supposed to be at WORK, I freaked out and called my agency, who had NEVER GOTTEN THE PAGE. I dashed off to work late and had to explain to THEM that I might have to leave early (to replace a pregnant woman, a concept they failed to grasp completely. They kept asking which hospital I was going to.) So, when I got the call from Megan at 8:45, I realized that I would actually have to leave at 9:30, and they weren’t too pleased. Lucky I was only missing two and a half hours of work! (See earlier post about job getting out at 12:00 on Fridays.) So, I left at 9:45 (of course) and ran to ConWorks… where I see eight million people I know.

Here’s where my day gets weird.

I go up to Megan, who is looking MEGA-stressed, and find out that I’m in a play written by Scot Augustson, and that one of the other actors is Imogen Love. This, frankly, is HILARIOUS to me, because now I’ve come full circle. The very first show I saw in Seattle, after we moved here, was “Reverse Psychology” at the Empty Space. Who was in that show, naked and fabulous? That would be Ms. Imogen Love. I thought the show was fantastic, and I remember seeing her as being the example of the successful professional actor that I would never be. I saw her outside the theatre right before the show, and was sort of awestruck that she was out smoking with the viewing audience. Then, later, I go to get my taxes done, and she’s the receptionist at H&R Block. While I’m waiting to get my taxes done, we discuss the fact that I saw her naked, and I start to smack myself out of the idea that this whole thing is something I couldn’t ever do. Three shows later, I’m pretty deeply imbedded, and now I’m getting to work with her on a project. I just think the whole situation is too perfect for words. (She’s my mom.)

Scot’s script is brilliant, and from what I’ve been told, it’s totally anti-normal-Scot-work. Apparently, you should “throw away everything you know about Scot Augustson, and you would have this play.” We switch ages every few lines, it’s odd, but so very good. Quote from our director, William: “I almost want to kill Scot Augustson, because he’s too fucking good.”

Anyway, I’m just on a break right now, so I can change out of my leopard-print shirt, let out the dogs, and turn around and go right back to ConWorks. Bill, if you should happen to read this, for the love of god: come home and let the dogs out later. I won’t be home again until probably after the ten thirty show. Or is it ten? I don’t remember. In any case, you should COME when you’re done with rehearsal, because I know I won’t get to talk to you for the rest of the day! (Damn us not having cell phones.)

*whew*
Back to the grind… lines to memorize, miles to walk, peanuts to point at. (You’ll see what I mean if you watch the show.)