Should be memorizing...

...but I can't focus. I'll be meeting my scene partner 6 hours from now, and I'm sure he's going to be really let down by my shoddy level of preparedness, but it's sorta too damn bad right now.

I've been spending about 16 hours a day at the theatre getting costumes done and subsequently rehearsing for Hair. It is coming along, but my attitude is totally burnt out right now. I feel like a zombie. I can't answer anyone's questions with anything remotely resembling a complete sentence, and once I get a moment to breathe, I'm thinking about precisely the wrong things. I can't think about much right now other than The Boy, and CNBFQ.

I really like CNBFQ in almost every aspect of our interaction. But I miss The Boy, because I love The Boy. I miss him a lot. And I feel guilty for missing him when CNBFQ is so sweet, and so attentive, and so lovely to spend time with. And I feel guilty for spending time with CNBFQ because the boy is telling me that he is sad and lonely without me. Connundrum. Methinks so.

Tennesee Williams beckons, "Learn your Laura, Laura."

I'm coming, Tom. Sorry about the delay.

The Age of Aquarius

The Real Theatre Company (read: my current labor of much much much love) is proud to present...




Reservations are going FAST, so get yours while the gettin's good! I'm very proud of this baby, and of all the work, love and dedication that has gone into it.

BEADS, FLOWERS, FREEDOM, HAPPINESS!

A week out...

It was a very good week. I feel as though this past week was my first official week out in the real world of being a working actor. Until this week, I was spending the majority of my time entertaining a string of out of town guests or lying about in a den of sin for my last few days in the city with the boy. These things were rather enjoyable (sometimes EXTREMELY enjoyable), but did not lend themselves well to my productivity as my own small business. This week, however, I began with a clear head (having said my final goodbyes and washed my hands of the boy), and a positive outlook on this whole wild ride.

I began last Sunday with Maggie, doing promo work for Legally Blonde: The Musical. We had a good time, and got some free shit and a little cash out of the deal. Between us, we managed to flyer about 900 people in Times Square, and still left with our respective dignites intact. We blew through the Entertainment Industry Expo at the nearby Westin, pretending to be important, and settled our exhausted asses into a diner booth before heading home where I passed out from sheer exhaustion. I had one of those naps where you fall asleep at 6 and wake up at 8, but for some reason think that it's 8am the next day. I was hella confused. I ended up staying in bed until the next morning anyway.

Monday I got up, and despite the rain, prettied myself up for my "free consultation" at The Network. It went pretty well, and I think I might find them to be a rather useful resource in the future. It was nice to sort of feel like I was getting actor's work done. Putting feelers out there and gathering information feels like a step in the right direction.

Tuesday we rehearsed for Hair, which always feels like I'm doing something right, or like I'm the luckiest person in the world, to actually be doing what I want to do with my life. I ended the night with a nice long conversation with Jim, the news of a new scene partner, and a phonecall to the parents.

Wednesday was a jam-packed actor day. The morning started with a scene-study class, which I'm so excited about. If nothing else comes of it, at least I get to spend 8 weeks working on the Glass Menagerie. Joy. We then trekked over to Grant Wilfley casting for their open call. On the way, I got a call for an audition for the first national tour of Anne of Green Gables. Guess which part. That audition is on thursday. Woo. After the open call I headed to midtown for another call from Talent Models, which was sketchy as shit, but hey, at least I know now. On my way back home I ran into what will be Crissy's costume for Hair, which made me very happy. I got a call from Maggie to come and meet her in Queens at a practice for a new band-type endeavor, which includes a boy who has been inquiring after me. I went. I met. He's cute. Maggie and I leave Astoria and head back to SpaHa for pasta and leaf spinnach, girl talk with linz, and more planning of the groovy revolution.

Thursday is another Hair rehearsal, this time with new musical director, Peter, and a great deal of naked parachute playing. Thursday also features a business lunch with John Gallagher, which puts me a bit more at ease about the future of my career. I also chat briefly with Jim Rado before we begin rehearsal, which makes me feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside. yay. Before we head out for the night, Kai, Katie and I plan to trek to Coney Island the next morning. Mags and I, Helen and Adam, and Linz and Logan all head down to the pub for pints and late-night dinner. I realize that Maggie and I are kind of a couple. I'm cool with that. We head back uptown far too late for my planned early-morning brooklyn beach extravaganza, but I figure, what the hell.

Friday kicked ass. I did make it to Coney Island with Kai, and we had a kick ass time eating Nathan's hot dogs, lying on the beach, and taking in the mystique that is the Coney. We head home before rehearsal, I make a detour to Reproductions to pick up a photo cd, have some mango gelatto in bryant park, and go home to clean up before rehearsal. By this point I've developed a pretty bitchin' sunburn. Don't worry. It was gone by saturday. We rehearse, which includes staging the be-in, which I ADORE. We go out for drinks at FUBAR of all places, and I make it home happy as a clam, and to find that I've been asked out by cute boy from queens on wednesday. Life is good.

Saturday finds me in the park, drinking a little beer, smoking a little pot, trying to embody the hippie ideals. However, it's a little cold, and Katie and I decide to give up the ghost in favor of sweatshirts and GROM, the UWS gelatto hotspot. It's worth the wait in line. As she and I are standing there, trying to savor the flavor but still eat the stuff before it melts, I get a call from The Boy, whom I haven't heard from in close to two weeks. I tell him I can't talk now, I've got my hands full of gelatto. Katie and I part ways, and I return his call. We decide that we've reached a similar conclusion - we shall not talk any more this summer. That's good with me. I wish him well and hang up. Sit on a bench on the eastern edge of the park for a few minutes before I head home. I get another call - this one from the cute new boy, wanting to meet me that night. As I'm trying to call him back, I get another call from The Boy. What? Isn't this contrary to the nature of the newly formed agreement? He is apologizing. I tell him I'm not mad. And that he should leave me alone now. And goodbye, again. I make plans to meet cute new boy from queens (heretofore: CNBfQ) before heading to the HAIR sleepover planned for that evening.

Date with CNBfQ is fantastic. We share common theatrical interestes, which is really nice, being that mine are a bit strange. We have a good time, good conversation, and before I know it one drink has turned into 4 and I'm REALLY late for this party. And my phone is ringing. I'm expecting Maggie, wondering where the hell I am, but NOOOOOOO, it's a drunk-dial from The Boy. He seems shocked when I tell him I can't talk (again, nature of the agreement) because I'm on a date. "A what?". A date. You know, when you take someone out to get to know them better? Date. You should try it, Boy. CNBfQ and I end up making a very late appearance at the party, and making out on various SpaHa streetcorners. I agree to see him again monday.

Today I woke up hungover as all shit and wallered until about 1:30. I also have a mysterious sore spot on my forehead, as though I fell or smacked into something, but I definitely don't remember that happening. It feels like it's gonna be a bruise, but for the life of me I don't know what from. I saw a matinee of a few friend's new company's show. I watched the Tony's. I felt inspired. I found out that Avenue Q has auditions...tomorrow. I figure I'm not ready. Maybe I'll try my hand tuesday.

I feel good. Good things are happening. The universe is bringing me some pretty bad-ass energy right now. And I dig it.

The Home Stretch

"I'm as calm as a fruit stand in New York, and maybe as strange."

"Bride" opened Sunday to overwhelmingly positive feedback. Final scenes will wrap up tomorrow morning. The fam flies in for the closing night/mother's day/graduation extravaganza tomorrow afternoon. I'm in my bed crying over the conclusion of second year. We have entered the home stretch.

The year seems to be ending with just as much emotion and fervor as it began.

The play. The play. Oh, God, the play. It's good. Really. I'm surprised and flattered and floored by the responses I've been getting from the last few performances. It hasn't even felt quite real to me yet. It will tomorrow. It will feel real when my parents and my brother are sitting in that audience seeing what it is that I've been doing all these years. Not since Summer and Smoke have I been so thrilled to have them see something I've done. It's really me up there. It's me, pouring all that I am and all that I have into a role that I still can't completely believe they handed to me. The playwright came to the show last night. He was very impressed with our work, and talked to us for a long stretch of time about how well we had done. He said, "and Grace. Grace. Well, your work was fantastic. You really got this character. The play is on Grace's shoulders. If you don't have a Grace that gets it, you don't have a play. You've done so well with her." Wow. Thank you. I am loving this play. I am loving playing this part. I am going to be sad to put it to bed come friday. Very sad indeed.

The first year has come of age with the completion of their final scenes. C-group will wrap up tomorrow. And that's that. I'm more nervous for them to get asked back than I was for myself. I suppose because I sort of KNEW in my heart that I would be back. I have grown close to so many of them, and I want the best for them all. But, I have no idea how they're going to do when those infamous letters hit the mailbox. I haven't seen their work. There are some that I can tell instinctively will be fine, like the boy, but others are not so cut and dry. I just hope for the best, and hope that they've had as enlightening and life-changing a year as I did when I was a first year.

I can't think about this anymore, this ending thing. I can't write about it anymore. I hate to be any more dramatic than I already am, but to be perfectly honest, I feel like my heart is breaking. Is that completly ridiculous or completely understandable? It hurts. God in heaven, does it hurt. I just wish I knew how to make it stop.

I'm really doing that...

Come see me do the doing. You know you wanna.

And for the record, Canadians can't spell "Reagan."

Spring, sprang, sprung.

"Here I am, baby
come and take me!"
I didn't realize it until about ten minutes ago, but for the last few weeks I actually FORGOT that I had this blog. Really. With good reason, I assure you. The final push of the nei-play experience is upon me, and it is taking everything it possibly can out of me. This will probably be a long and meandering romp through the wild world of just what I've been up to lately. Bear with me. Also, feel free to bare with me. I bet some nude therapy would do me good about now.

"I was meant to tread these boards,
of this much I am certain."
So now, here we are, midnight on saturday, and socializing is the furthest thing from my mind. I'm in bed with my most reliable companion, the laptop, listening to "Hernando's Hideaway", and trying to decompress from the epic rehearsal that just ended. Why, I ask you, do I even have that song on my Itunes? Ok. It's over. Back to the point. Epic rehearsals. Epic. EPIC. The previously mentioned lead role in The Bride of Olneyville Square, while extremely flattering, has also been extremely difficult, extremely exhausting, and at times, extremely frustrating. God, I love what I do. How many people get to go to work and rip themselves to shreds for 8 to 12 hours a day? I'm glad I'm one of them. Granted, it would be much easier to do if it were rationed into a bit less epic bites, but such is the nature of the beast. This is one mammoth motherfucker of a play, and the demands upon the actors in this play are correspondingly mammoth. It's going to be so fucking good. I just have to do some major self-assuring to allow myself to actually get where our fearless director wants me to be. I'm almost there. Almost. Tomorrow's much needed day off will hopefully afford me the luxury of digesting a bit more of the script, the character, the world of the play, and letting it really really sink into me. So yeah, it's hard right now. I cry when I shouldn't and don't cry when I should, and he yells at me like I'm some kind of goddamned moron several times in each rehearsal, but he also tells me - "That's it, baby. That's it." And somewhere in there, I'm not so worried anymore.

"I'd give anything not to feel so jagged."
So this play has taken over my life. That is completely wonderful for my artistic growth, and completely shitty for my practical survival. There is no way in hell that I could be playing this role, with this schedule, and working at the same time. Conseqently, I currently have fourteen dollars in my bank account. Ouch. Also, it seems that everyone else at the nei-play has all of this free time to be running around auditioning, shooting films, meeting agents and whatnot. I don't. And what's more, even if I wanted to, nobody's calling me. I'm not complaining at all about the lack time. But the lack of calls? I'm fucking good at this, and I'm fucking cute as hell. Call me, goddamn it. I can solve your problem. Is there something wrong with my damn pictures? I'm supposed to be auditioning for Spring Awakening in a week. I haven't got music, I haven't worked with a vocal coach, I haven't got a piano track. What I do have, is rehearsal that day. Fantastic.

"I Listen to the wind, to the wind of my soul
where I'll end up, well I think only God really knows."
So no, I'm not out there pounding the hell out of the pavement like some of my classmates seem to be. So I'm feeling a bit like I'm getting buried already. However, I also feel that at this point my energy is better directed into the Real Theatre Company, into Hair, into the future of what I would like to be a life-long endeavor. I feel it. I'm excited and passionate about the company, and about collaborating with Maggie, with whom I see eye to eye. I'm thrilled about PG, and all that could be. I'm feeling a bit like whatever I can dream up can actually be accomplished. This seems to be aligned with all of those things that I've always wanted out of a life in the theatre. Thank you, universe.

"Shed a little light, oh Lord."
I miss Pinter. I had a nice conversation with him on Thursday, and felt renewed after it. There are moments in every rehearsal when I wish I had a little Pinter on my shoulder to tell me how to "go in the back door" of a moment to really make it work for me. I guess I'm supposed to be at that point on my own now. Right. Get there, Sessoms.

"Just one look at you, and I know it's gonna be
a lovely day"
Spring has FINALLY sprung around here. It had damn well better be staying around. Today I got out of bed, put on my bikini, and dragged my script and a beach towel up to the roof for a couple of hours. Now I'm blessedly pink, and my depression at the hands of the lingering winter is lifting. After my tar-beach morning, I showered up, and walked the two miles to school for rehearsal. Lovely day. Just lovely.

'"There's a reason to the rhyming of
your heart's desire."
There's still that whole boy thing, but there's a different me in the mix now. This me is in control of the situation, and not participating in any of the bullshit that could possibly accompany the boy. This has recently become simpler, as the other girlfriend/ex-girlfriend/girlfriend/ex-girlfriend situation seems to have finally reached resolution. However, I am reluctant to hop back into anything with this boy. Not while I'm working. Not while I only have 3 weeks left here at the nei-play. Not while I've spent the ENTIRE year going back and forth with him. No matter how much I might miss him - which, for the record, is immensely - I feel like I need to hold off for awhile longer. This one has put me through the ringer, that's for certain. (Is it ringer, or wringer? I was wondering that earlier.) Nevertheless, I am feeling very good about him now. About the possibilites, about how everything seems to be settling down, about the unfaltering trust I have in my gut. Fuck it, it's springtime and I've got that fluttery feeling about him. Why not just enjoy it, right?

"Intuition tells me how to live my day
Intuition tells me when to walk away
could've turned left but I turned right
and I ended up here back in the middle
of a real life."

Beginnings and Endings

It seems like everything I'm doing these days is one or the other.

I am slowly coming to terms with the fact that my magical, mystical, practical, physical two years at the Nei-Play will be OV-AH in the blink of an eye. I did the last scene of second year with Hugh on thursday. Cat on a Hot Tin Roof. Holy Hell. During the critique, Pinter says to me: "Laura, you can play this role NOW. You have to play this role. Go find the audition. Do it. You can do this," and I swell with a pride, a sense of self-worth that I cannot begin to describe. My classmates filter out of the room, and I am left, cleaning up my props, tearing up at the thought of the whole thing ending, with Maggie. And she and I sit down right there and weep, bawl, gnash teeth. Because it really is that sad. It is. The following day marks our last scheduled class with pinter, for which we have prepared gifts and an elaborate and beautiful nude scrapbook. He talks, and we listen. We cry. He cries. He takes care of some preliminary business, before pausing for a moment to look at us and say: "I'm so sad." That is the end of it for all of us. There is no turning back. He thanks us for being supportive enough for him to feel ok saying "I don't know." He doesn't know the last time he's had a class that he respects that much. It is a tearful ending, giving way to many many new beginnings.

The showcase has likewise come to an end, and was an incredible success. No broken friendships, no major arguments, huge industry turnout, overwhelmingly positive response for my scenes in particular, and even a call! Just one for now, but I'd be willing to bet there are more on the way. So it's over. Yay.

Speech class will be ending Thursday, with a Ramsey-esque flourish of Shakespeare monologues. Mine is one of the more understated, but I think it will be good. I have been directed to strive for "y'know, TOTAL breakdown." Thank you, Mr. Ramsey. Nothing like working for a trumped-up result.

Ballet never ends. Ever.

But other things begin, and begin beautifully.

We began final plays today. I have somehow (which I have yet to wrap my mind around) managed to land the lead role in this AMAZING play directed by Ron Stetson. I couldn't be more flattered. There will be far more details on this experience as the rehearsal process continues. But i'm all aflutter. What a challenge. I can't believe they have this much faith in me....

Hair rehearsals continue today, with almost a full cast. We begin to STAGE SCENES, and BECOME A TRIBE, and Maggie comes more and more into her own each time we meet. I can't believe the energy that surrounds this production. The overwhelming positivity, the way the fates continue to deliver just what it needs, it is all so inspiring and invigorating. I wish I could will my own hair to grow, so as not to spend the experience in a wig, but if that's what I have to do, I fucking will.

Life is beginning. Real life. And it's good. It is so good.

Things with the boy are in a constant state of flip-flop between BEGINNING and ENDING. I have decided I want them to be only BEGINNING, so that is all I will be participating in. I can only think about this positively, because I have too much faith to think otherwise. And what good is negativity doing me anyway? This phase of my life is the beginning of the ending of negativity. Why put more toxicity into the world? I love. I know I love. I know how to love, and I have an unlimited supply of love to give. Don't try to dodge it, boy. Do what you have to do, but know that in about 5 minutes, you're going to miss me. Why? Because I am phenomenal. Don't try to ignore it, you'll drive yourself crazier than you already tend to be. Don't fight the fates. You can't win.

Things are good. Every day is the best day of my life. I mean, why not? Right?

"i got chip on my shoulder and a halo on my head
i'm an angel with an attitude and my favorite color's red
i got god on my side, "who's that?", "hell, i don't know"
gonna practice my religion while i'm stepping on your toes."