As my 7-year anniversary of Chicago 'proving creeps up, I thought it would be fun to occasionally post a list.
Today's list...
ENSEMBLES I'VE PLAYED WITH: Adjustable Wrench (Playground) Big Yellow Bus (Playground) The Bruise (Independent) Celtic Shame Circle (IO 5b) Condiments (Independent) Courtesy Sleeve (Independent) Deuces Wild (Independent) DocSouth (DSI) The Donk (IO) Garbage Hounds (IO) Home Run Kids (IO) Homey Loves Chachi (Playground) Jumping Miles (IO 5b) KOKO (Independent) Panaderia (IO) Sarah & Sammy (Independent) Therosi of the Shaar (Independent) Trick Dogs (IO) Uncle Joe (Cagematch)
Sarah & Sammy got invited to extend our run at Mullen's until the end of March (the Sarah being one Ms. Sarah Fineout).
We'll probably keep playing around with different forms and mixing it up between straight up 2-person shows and having a guest performer. Whatever strikes our fancy and all that jazz. For our Valentine's Day show, we did "pillow talk"--a single scene, in the dark, sitting in the audience as a couple chatting in bed late at night.
Well, what the fuck. Who woulda thunk I'd end up here? Not me.
I turned 34 yesterday. 34. That's a number that gives you pause. Or at least me. 34.
So many things in life I wanted to be. Architect. Journalist. Computer Tech. Film Director. Among many others. So many things I can still be. But here I am. Inert.
Inert is the wrong word. There is activity. There is energy. But is there motion? Forward movement? I don't know.
I really don't.
tangent joking with my roommate on his birthday: to him - "Once you turn 30, you start falling apart." to me - "I've know you for years, Sammy. You didn't start falling apart until you lost your job." to him - "I started falling apart long before that."
It's hard to care about all the bullshit you need to get through life Get a job. Pay the bills. Etc this. Etc that. Etc whateverthefuckelse. when all you care about (really care about) is a good rehearsal a solid show challenging your peers sharing what you know laughing with friends maybe just maybe every so often doing something worth a damn onstage something that when you step offstage you know just know you fucking brought it from the top of your intelligence to the bottom of your soul you just fucking brought it and rocked it out and it's all the sweeter because you got rock it out with folks you love and respect and couldn't imagine doing what did without them there to push you, inspire you
disclosure here's a little secret every group I direct not sub-coach, not fill in but direct I fully expect to be the best ensemble the night they perform I never tell them that I never will it's not a competition no troupe wins but when the night ends and notes are done I honestly want us to be troupe that owned the night the troupe other improvisors say "Good show!" to say "Good show!" and fucking mean it
Right now I doubt someone would examine my life then come up to me and say "Good life!"
I love what I do I fucking love it with all my heart I live for rehearsals the exploration the discoveries the successes the failures the laughs I live for shows the adrenaline the rush the art the bits the laughs but I'm tired so tired of all the other bullshit in life I have to do
I've never been good with money never because I just don't care
it's just a thing
but now I have to worry about money and I fucking hate loathe giving it money so much power in my thoughts
And those thoughts turn and whirl and mill and fester and taint and rot and then you start thinking about your life and how you're 34 34 and how you can sum up your life in such a sad, few words
Broke. Lonely. Did some improv.
Then the other thoughts come out the ones you thought you made peace with but they sneak in from places you didn't know were there they come during the tossing and turning hours in bed during quiet moments in an empty theater during sips of cold coffee and it always boils down to what the hell am I doing with my life and whatever I'm doing am I doing enough? and I answer
Not much.
and
No.
revelation I'm trying to suck it up I'm trying to get my life in order But goddammit I'm so fucking angry (at myself) I'm so fucking disappointed (in myself) I'm so (myself) that I have no one else to blame and only (me) to fix shit personally and professionally
Who woulda thunk I'd end up here? 34, unemployed and angry.
Seriously, I've never seen this commercial. I wished I would have when I was younger...it might have stopped me from partaking in what would become a deep and nerdy obsession...
