you're the only song I want to hear
My life was absolutely out of control for about five weeks, and now I find myself home, alone, sitting on the couch, wasting time on purpose to make up for all my recent productivity.
this summer was an internship with New Moon Productions, which does this project every summer. This year we did Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. The job had two parts. The first was what we called the adult cast, which rehearsed for way too fucking long (and contained some children, despite popular belief), and then did a month of performances (six a week for four weeks) in the Rose Garden Amphitheater in Washington Park. The second part was a camp for kids ages 8-18. We had 63 kids in the camp, which we broke into three different casts, all working on Willy Wonka. Each cast had two performances in the park.
I was hired as a technical intern for the adult cast, so I started out as the assistant to the assistant stage manager, basically, running sound for rehearsals in preparation for co-running sound for the performances. Then three of the five performance interns quick because our director (who is in charge of the production company and co-produces the shows and runs the camp) has unrealistic ideas of time commitment. I was switched over to a performance intern, and several new people were brought in. Half of those new people quit within days, we brought in even more new people, and things tried to get back on track. Those line up changes were the first of many major problems that happened during the process. I won't go into the details, but suffice to say the adult cast show is the single most ridiculous theater experience I have ever had. I could not believe how wrong some things were done, how poorly some things were managed. Somehow we pulled it off, though.
Because of all the fuck ups and frustrations of the adult cast, I was dreading the camp, but that was only because I had forgotten how magical camp is. As I said, we had quite a few kids to handle, and limited space and supplies. All the interns involved in the adult cast helped run the camp, and we were 100% in charge of the camp performances, so there was no time to sit back and watch. We reported to camp at 8:15, worked there until 3:30--sometimes 4:30--and were called to rehearsal or performances at 5:30 or 4:30 respectively. All of the kids were really fabulous, though some of them obviously caused problems. There were a few kids that I just wanted to sweep up and out of their horrible circumstances and tell them their parents were not the end all be all, and that life would get better. There were kids who were so cute and hilarious that I wished I could have spent more time with them just to see what they would do and say. Some of the kids were so quiet and introverted that I only knew their names and faces. Others told me their life stories in a matter of minutes, whether I had time to listen or not.
Camp was really a fabulous experience. I had never done theater with kids before, which is why I took the job in the first place. I have a lot of camp experience, and combining that with theater made perfect sense to me. I'm really glad I did it, and not just because it will look good on the ol' resume, but because it was as rewarding for me as it was for the kids, which is what you hope for and work toward the whole time.
But will I be doing it next summer? Not if it's run by the same people in the same way. I would do the camp again, but I would not do the adult cast again. That was just a thorn in my side all summer, and not just because we had a shitty stage manager. And I simply need to make more money than what they can afford to pay me.
Isn't that always the case? Sigh.
was having adventures of her own and dragging us behind her, kicking and screaming and crying and cursing.
Backing up, she spent several weeks in rehab (Round 3 for her) a while back. That time was different from the times before. She had been living with some guys my family has named the Heroin Twins for obvious reasons. Rumor has it one of them has a liking for young, lost girls; they are in their mid-to-late twenties and very few of their female friends are older than twenty. They have a house in Eugene where people go to hang out, do all sorts of substances, avoid life and other inconveniences, be filthy, and spread diseases. As an example, before we got Molly home, and then to rehab, she called me really drunk, saying she was sitting on a mattress her friend had puked and peed on the night before, and what did scabies look like because she was worried she had it. (She didn't, but she did have an infected burn on her arm and her industrial piercing was also looking gross and pussy.) Anyway, we think something during all that must of scared her really bad because when she got to rehab she was sad more than angry. She seemed to genuinely want to be better for herself, not just to get out of rehab or until we made her mad again. There was very little blaming on her part, which was a huge step forward.
She got to come home on the deal that the first time she messed up, she would go to long term treatment if my parents wanted her to. She agreed to go to summer school, which my parents had to work to get her into, and not to see any of her using friends (though she could talk to them on the phone).
She did quite well for three weeks, which impressed and pleased all of us, and then something snapped. Evil Molly took over Good Molly, and she ran away, where she proceeded to get drunk. Once that happened, she refused to come home because she knew my parents wanted to send her away. So she ran and hid and stayed hidden for about two weeks. My parents put up posters advertising a $100 reward. Some guy turned her in because he said he didn't want his own daughter, who is four-years-old, to be like Molly down the road (thank goodness). He gave us the Heroin Twins' address, and my parents literally stormed the place. My dad had Buddy, our dog, and my mom knocked down a gate/fence to get into the front yard, where she proceeded to chase Molly down.
Now, my parents had been planning to come see my play the weekend they found Molly, so they brought Molly up with them, intending to take her back to rehab after the play. And wouldn't you know that little shit ran away from us in Washington Park! That was a Sunday, and my parents had to stay in Portland until they found her Friday night. We spent our days eating out, cursing Molly, making fliers, hanging them up, and sorting through Molly's lies and bullshit. Molly's phone has GPS tracking on it, but the radius is about a mile wide, so while we knew what general neighborhood she was in, we couldn't pin point her exact location. Finally some mom called, saying her daughter had been hanging out with Molly, and told my parents exactly where they were. My parents showed up with the police, and sure enough Molly was there.
Her birthday is this weekend, as well as her scheduled admittance into a long-term care. Our insurance is paying for her birthday present! She will come home for an afternoon between facilities for dinner and a movie, but I have a feeling she'll be pretty solemn for much of that time. Even if she know she needs to go to rehab, leaving your whole life and family is never fun. I'm just hoping long-term care will give her what she needs to keep herself together after she turns eighteen and my parents say, "Good luck!" Hopefully by the time she turns eighteen she'll be ready to actually live her life, not just fuck it up.
We'll just have to wait and see.
I would like Joss Whedon to become immortal so he will never have to stop creating awesomeness.
this summer was an internship with New Moon Productions, which does this project every summer. This year we did Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. The job had two parts. The first was what we called the adult cast, which rehearsed for way too fucking long (and contained some children, despite popular belief), and then did a month of performances (six a week for four weeks) in the Rose Garden Amphitheater in Washington Park. The second part was a camp for kids ages 8-18. We had 63 kids in the camp, which we broke into three different casts, all working on Willy Wonka. Each cast had two performances in the park.
I was hired as a technical intern for the adult cast, so I started out as the assistant to the assistant stage manager, basically, running sound for rehearsals in preparation for co-running sound for the performances. Then three of the five performance interns quick because our director (who is in charge of the production company and co-produces the shows and runs the camp) has unrealistic ideas of time commitment. I was switched over to a performance intern, and several new people were brought in. Half of those new people quit within days, we brought in even more new people, and things tried to get back on track. Those line up changes were the first of many major problems that happened during the process. I won't go into the details, but suffice to say the adult cast show is the single most ridiculous theater experience I have ever had. I could not believe how wrong some things were done, how poorly some things were managed. Somehow we pulled it off, though.
Because of all the fuck ups and frustrations of the adult cast, I was dreading the camp, but that was only because I had forgotten how magical camp is. As I said, we had quite a few kids to handle, and limited space and supplies. All the interns involved in the adult cast helped run the camp, and we were 100% in charge of the camp performances, so there was no time to sit back and watch. We reported to camp at 8:15, worked there until 3:30--sometimes 4:30--and were called to rehearsal or performances at 5:30 or 4:30 respectively. All of the kids were really fabulous, though some of them obviously caused problems. There were a few kids that I just wanted to sweep up and out of their horrible circumstances and tell them their parents were not the end all be all, and that life would get better. There were kids who were so cute and hilarious that I wished I could have spent more time with them just to see what they would do and say. Some of the kids were so quiet and introverted that I only knew their names and faces. Others told me their life stories in a matter of minutes, whether I had time to listen or not.
Camp was really a fabulous experience. I had never done theater with kids before, which is why I took the job in the first place. I have a lot of camp experience, and combining that with theater made perfect sense to me. I'm really glad I did it, and not just because it will look good on the ol' resume, but because it was as rewarding for me as it was for the kids, which is what you hope for and work toward the whole time.
But will I be doing it next summer? Not if it's run by the same people in the same way. I would do the camp again, but I would not do the adult cast again. That was just a thorn in my side all summer, and not just because we had a shitty stage manager. And I simply need to make more money than what they can afford to pay me.
Isn't that always the case? Sigh.
was having adventures of her own and dragging us behind her, kicking and screaming and crying and cursing.
Backing up, she spent several weeks in rehab (Round 3 for her) a while back. That time was different from the times before. She had been living with some guys my family has named the Heroin Twins for obvious reasons. Rumor has it one of them has a liking for young, lost girls; they are in their mid-to-late twenties and very few of their female friends are older than twenty. They have a house in Eugene where people go to hang out, do all sorts of substances, avoid life and other inconveniences, be filthy, and spread diseases. As an example, before we got Molly home, and then to rehab, she called me really drunk, saying she was sitting on a mattress her friend had puked and peed on the night before, and what did scabies look like because she was worried she had it. (She didn't, but she did have an infected burn on her arm and her industrial piercing was also looking gross and pussy.) Anyway, we think something during all that must of scared her really bad because when she got to rehab she was sad more than angry. She seemed to genuinely want to be better for herself, not just to get out of rehab or until we made her mad again. There was very little blaming on her part, which was a huge step forward.
She got to come home on the deal that the first time she messed up, she would go to long term treatment if my parents wanted her to. She agreed to go to summer school, which my parents had to work to get her into, and not to see any of her using friends (though she could talk to them on the phone).
She did quite well for three weeks, which impressed and pleased all of us, and then something snapped. Evil Molly took over Good Molly, and she ran away, where she proceeded to get drunk. Once that happened, she refused to come home because she knew my parents wanted to send her away. So she ran and hid and stayed hidden for about two weeks. My parents put up posters advertising a $100 reward. Some guy turned her in because he said he didn't want his own daughter, who is four-years-old, to be like Molly down the road (thank goodness). He gave us the Heroin Twins' address, and my parents literally stormed the place. My dad had Buddy, our dog, and my mom knocked down a gate/fence to get into the front yard, where she proceeded to chase Molly down.
Now, my parents had been planning to come see my play the weekend they found Molly, so they brought Molly up with them, intending to take her back to rehab after the play. And wouldn't you know that little shit ran away from us in Washington Park! That was a Sunday, and my parents had to stay in Portland until they found her Friday night. We spent our days eating out, cursing Molly, making fliers, hanging them up, and sorting through Molly's lies and bullshit. Molly's phone has GPS tracking on it, but the radius is about a mile wide, so while we knew what general neighborhood she was in, we couldn't pin point her exact location. Finally some mom called, saying her daughter had been hanging out with Molly, and told my parents exactly where they were. My parents showed up with the police, and sure enough Molly was there.
Her birthday is this weekend, as well as her scheduled admittance into a long-term care. Our insurance is paying for her birthday present! She will come home for an afternoon between facilities for dinner and a movie, but I have a feeling she'll be pretty solemn for much of that time. Even if she know she needs to go to rehab, leaving your whole life and family is never fun. I'm just hoping long-term care will give her what she needs to keep herself together after she turns eighteen and my parents say, "Good luck!" Hopefully by the time she turns eighteen she'll be ready to actually live her life, not just fuck it up.
We'll just have to wait and see.
I would like Joss Whedon to become immortal so he will never have to stop creating awesomeness.