YES, Hamlet as in Joe Foust.

Dec 08, 2006 00:38

and a lot of other fucking amazing people. Angela Iannoe, for one, who still, after about 7 years, scares the everloving shit out of me with naught but a glance. She's so fucking cool. I with I had one tenth the power she has in her freaking eyelashes.
I'm not gloating. I'm not anywhere near the mere caliber of shakespeare dorkdom the people in this show are, so it's not like "ooOooOOoo look how cool I am." Really I just begged to be a fly on the wall during the rehearsal process, so they made me assistant stage manager (and Player 4! I have no lines but I get to be on stage!)... I absolutely love being surrounded by people who know what they're doing. I want to live and breathe the process. Which I suppose I am, as I've totally sold my soul. They have me for at least 4 hours every day, on top of school, work, homework, home stuff, and shit to do on weekends like see shows for my theatre class. But this is what I wanted to do. My senior year, and really through most high school days, I kept thinking to myself "I can't WAIT until I'm slowly killing myself with professional theatre." I'm never home, I don't sleep a whole lot, I rarely eat, but I get to sit at a table for four hours and listen to people pour shakespeare's poetry from their mouths like it's honey. This is what I live for, and this is what will kill me. So be it.
For a couple weeks before rehearsal started I could barely sleep thinking about it. All through the first rehearsal I couldn't stop smiling. Just sitting there listening to people read and SMILING. I smiled all the way home, and I laughed and rolled around and jumped on the furniture before going to bed. Hamlet is doodled in funny letters all over my notebooks and stick figures of Hamlet and Laerte's sword fighting are found in the margins of my Classic Mythology notes. I can barely bring myself to talk to any of the people at rehearsal I'm so overwhelmed with the sheer awesomeness of the situation. HOW BIG A DORK AM I? (But at least this time I'm not sleeping with the script underneath my pillow. 1: it's too fucking big, and 2: I don't have any lines.)
I'm not in the Quiltmaker's Gift, (god no, I can't SING,) but I got to see some of the rehearsal process when I marooned myself at MYAC for a few hours between fabulous lunch with Pschley and rehearsal. Poor Maclay is pretty sick, but he's, of course, pretty damn amazing anyway.
I've been learning to use public transportation smoothly. It took a few times of trudging around in the freezing fucking cold (and a few blisters,) but tonight went great, no mishaps. I won't get mugged or raped or stabbed, I promise. I mean come on, nobody in their right MIND, not even people in their WRONG mind, would try a thing like that in 14 degree weather. Fuck no. I'd just look at the person and be like "are you fucking serious?"

OH, right, Hamlet, you prolly want to know when the shows are, huh?

JANUARY

(Preview performance?) 4 - Thursday
7:30 P.M.
5 - Friday
7:30 P.M.
6 - Saturday
7:30 P.M.
7 - Sunday
2:00 P.M.

11 - Thursday
7:30 P.M.
12 - Friday
7:30 P.M.
13 - Saturday
7:30 P.M.
14 - Sunday
2:00 P.M.

18 - Thursday
7:30 P.M.
19 - Friday
7:30 P.M.
20 - Saturday
7:30 P.M.
21 - Sunday
2:00 P.M.

DANA: We have school performances, but they're filling up fast, so get your teacher to call soon.

I need to sleep.

LOVE.
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