So I managed to get the lead in a play, and we're only doing 2 and a half shows. Why did the Oz people get to do like seven? I know, it must have been stressful or whatever, but they got to do their thing lots of times for lots of people. And I know there will be other shows in the future. But not this one, with these people, and this costume, and these songs. Not this show.
I pray there is school tomorrow, because I want to do the school performance more than anything. I want to show the school the real me. I want them to see the Taylor who will sew herself a red dress and get up on stage and drink gin and sing at the top of her lungs. Nobody knows that me. They know the me who wears pretty little dresses and sits silent in classes drawing and mumbles when you ask her a question. That's not the real me.
This me comes from a childhood of making up my own stories to act out, a childhood of New Year's parties where we played Harry Potter while we waited for midnight, and we made up characters like Snape's daughter who gave out candy just because there was candy and we were tired of pretending to be men. I spent half my life pretending to be other people; why shouldn't I be able to translate that into acting?
Forgive me for this little diatribe. I've been feeling so icky and spacey and hopeless today, all I could do was to curl up with a book all day. Did I mention I hate winter?
And I think I deserve a selfish post. Others of us certainly seem to believe it's okay.
1 comment:
Everything's making me cry today. I love you so much. Let's have a reunion, all of us, sometime. Sounds like we need it.
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