will i?
Wow. Sunday.
I wrapped filming on a film that I never thought would take this long. I had a good time when I was there, but it was one of those things that was always in the back of my mind when I considered shaving or getting a haircut. It's not a particularly huge moment in my life, but in the here and now, it's given me some freedoms I've missed for a while.
The last-ever ROIAL Recognition Ceremony took place. There was, as dictated by tradition, some last-minute scrambling. Also traditionally, it took a bit longer than we anticipated. And, equally traditional, I planned nothing of my speech. We had alums from as far back as ROIAL's first year. We had award winners and graduating sophomores. We had a photographer and a reporter. We had refreshments afterward. And I was given the first-ever honorary ROIAL stole (since, as Anita put it, "we can't give an honorary degree"). It was a surprisingly emotional occasion for me, and it really served -- among many other things -- to put my impending graduation into reality. (Indeed, I've reconsidered my decision to not walk at graduation. I want to wear my stole.) Having heard nothing to the contrary, I began to realize that I would never again be part of something like this.
The ROIAL Players then closed their production season with our final performance of The Complete History of America (Abridged). After another night of CHoAA and two nights of An Adult Evening of Shel Silverstein, I had some pretty high expectations for this particular performance. As I gathered the last jump circle, I realized that this would likely be the last ROIAL Players production I could ever officially have any part in. So many "last times." Despite my best efforts, I began to get a little sappy. But then I watched the show. And it was funnier than it had ever been. Our cash box officially reached a milestone. Prospects for future ROIAL Players productions have never, to my knowledge, been higher. And I wouldn't be around to see them in production.
I hadn't slept in quite a while. But I did manage to get one last dinner in there with a few of the Players, before driving home and falling asleep. The ramifications of the day would have to wait to settle in.
I woke up. It was Monday morning. Even though I was aware that the week was rife with ROIAL and Theatre events, I knew that this was one of those cliched "first days of the rest of my life." I knew that my life, my home, and my family was all about to change, and any efforts I made to change that would only be made that much more pathetic by the fact that I'd be "that guy:" the one who graduates and doesn't leave. Don't get me wrong: I'm ready to leave. I have no desire to stay in East Lansing any longer than it's fruitful for me to do so. There's so much more out there, and if I keep treating my body the way I do, I won't have long to experience it all. I'm upset because I know that I'm not done here yet. And, frankly, I don't want to be.
I met Kate Perry, our visiting artist from Ireland. I did my job, because that's all I have left to do. I took back the keys I had borrowed from the Theatre Department for the Players shows. I wrote Kati an e-mail, and it gave me some closure. I watched an episode of Lost online. I got a phone call, telling me I'm being offered a job next year. I went back to the Government Room to help with Kate's workshop.
Wait. What?
I've got a job? I'm going to grad school. I get health insurance. I'll have a steady source of income. I get to be around to see the remains of ROIAL rise from the ashes. I don't care if it's pathetic to want to stay here; I'm glad for the opportunity.
I knew something was really changed when I was on a walk to the Business College Complex. I passed the Red Cedar River, and I saw the sun on its way down. I thought, "Heavenly biscuits, it's a beautiful day." Then I stopped walking, mildly disturbed. I shouted, angrily: "Shit, I'm turning my life around!"
Despite my earlier grouchiness, I'm quite happy to be able to say that. I only hope I will live up to the opportunity I've been presented.
For the first time in nearly two years, I feel have a future ahead of me. Cheers!
Addendum, Tuesday morning: And then, over eight months later, she called me back.
I wrapped filming on a film that I never thought would take this long. I had a good time when I was there, but it was one of those things that was always in the back of my mind when I considered shaving or getting a haircut. It's not a particularly huge moment in my life, but in the here and now, it's given me some freedoms I've missed for a while.
The last-ever ROIAL Recognition Ceremony took place. There was, as dictated by tradition, some last-minute scrambling. Also traditionally, it took a bit longer than we anticipated. And, equally traditional, I planned nothing of my speech. We had alums from as far back as ROIAL's first year. We had award winners and graduating sophomores. We had a photographer and a reporter. We had refreshments afterward. And I was given the first-ever honorary ROIAL stole (since, as Anita put it, "we can't give an honorary degree"). It was a surprisingly emotional occasion for me, and it really served -- among many other things -- to put my impending graduation into reality. (Indeed, I've reconsidered my decision to not walk at graduation. I want to wear my stole.) Having heard nothing to the contrary, I began to realize that I would never again be part of something like this.
The ROIAL Players then closed their production season with our final performance of The Complete History of America (Abridged). After another night of CHoAA and two nights of An Adult Evening of Shel Silverstein, I had some pretty high expectations for this particular performance. As I gathered the last jump circle, I realized that this would likely be the last ROIAL Players production I could ever officially have any part in. So many "last times." Despite my best efforts, I began to get a little sappy. But then I watched the show. And it was funnier than it had ever been. Our cash box officially reached a milestone. Prospects for future ROIAL Players productions have never, to my knowledge, been higher. And I wouldn't be around to see them in production.
I hadn't slept in quite a while. But I did manage to get one last dinner in there with a few of the Players, before driving home and falling asleep. The ramifications of the day would have to wait to settle in.
I woke up. It was Monday morning. Even though I was aware that the week was rife with ROIAL and Theatre events, I knew that this was one of those cliched "first days of the rest of my life." I knew that my life, my home, and my family was all about to change, and any efforts I made to change that would only be made that much more pathetic by the fact that I'd be "that guy:" the one who graduates and doesn't leave. Don't get me wrong: I'm ready to leave. I have no desire to stay in East Lansing any longer than it's fruitful for me to do so. There's so much more out there, and if I keep treating my body the way I do, I won't have long to experience it all. I'm upset because I know that I'm not done here yet. And, frankly, I don't want to be.
I met Kate Perry, our visiting artist from Ireland. I did my job, because that's all I have left to do. I took back the keys I had borrowed from the Theatre Department for the Players shows. I wrote Kati an e-mail, and it gave me some closure. I watched an episode of Lost online. I got a phone call, telling me I'm being offered a job next year. I went back to the Government Room to help with Kate's workshop.
Wait. What?
I've got a job? I'm going to grad school. I get health insurance. I'll have a steady source of income. I get to be around to see the remains of ROIAL rise from the ashes. I don't care if it's pathetic to want to stay here; I'm glad for the opportunity.
I knew something was really changed when I was on a walk to the Business College Complex. I passed the Red Cedar River, and I saw the sun on its way down. I thought, "Heavenly biscuits, it's a beautiful day." Then I stopped walking, mildly disturbed. I shouted, angrily: "Shit, I'm turning my life around!"
Despite my earlier grouchiness, I'm quite happy to be able to say that. I only hope I will live up to the opportunity I've been presented.
For the first time in nearly two years, I feel have a future ahead of me. Cheers!
Addendum, Tuesday morning: And then, over eight months later, she called me back.