Working

Never a dull moment! I'm updating from the singularly fantastic BoltBus, a secret that I'm afraid I'm too excited not to unleash upon the Northeast. Not only do tickets from Philly to New York start at $7, it goes from Penn Station to 30th St, it's never crowded, and the bus drivers are the happiest people I've met since that woman selling weedballs at a Phish concert 6 years ago. AND...they have free wifi. AND! Outlets in the seats. Never has there been a more thrilling mode of transportation since the Magic Schoolbus.

Anyway. You may be asking yourselves, "As truly magical as the BoltBus does sound, why the hell are you going to New York when you just moved out, you crackhead? What's the dealio???" Here unfolds the last 25 hours' of events:

JULY 9
5:45 PM: I drive myself over to the opening of my sister's theater company's opening night of "Working. (Check it out: www.theatrehorizon.org. My sister is a genius of an actress, director, producer, and artistic director. If you're anywhere near Philadelphia, I highly recommend them. And not just because I'm their house manager. And founding member. And ex-director of fundraising & special events) On the way over, I hit a bird and kill it dead.
7 PM: Show starts. Applause applause applause.
8:25 PM: I screen a phone call from a mystery number, and hurriedly listen to the message. It's the zombie play director. He loved my read and wants me to play either Maggie or Lauren. It's up to me. That's the nail in the coffin. I decide ix-nay on the ombie-zay play.
9:30: Show ends. Everyone cheers. Reception in the lobby.
10 PM: Donna the Janitor (did I mention this theater is in the theater of the new school in King of Prussia?) hugs me and reminds me she still has the picture of me as Maria in Sound of Music from my sophomore year of high school hanging over her bed and she tells everyone I have the voice of an angel. (Using my high school math skills...9 years. It's been up there 9 YEARS.)
10:30PM: The company celebrates by going to the place to be in KOP, Bahama Breeze AKA place of a thousand margaritas AKA where I spent my 21st birthday AKA land of tiki torches and aruba reds. I drink one gin & tonic.
11:55 PM: I forget to pay for my drink, peace out, and I drive myself home. i'm tired, and I want to talk to my honey. I can't get my windshield to stay un-foggy, and I'm a littly tipsy. No birds are harmed.
12:09 PM: Say hello to my bf Josh just as my email opens and I see the email from the film director saying "See you tomorrow! Filming this weekend!"

Well, shit motherfucker. I'm fucked. I thought there was only a slight chance we'd be filming this weekend, and since I hadn't heard anything from him in 5 days, I assumed that chance had been downgraded to zero. And there was nothing about rehearsing on Thursday night, the night I'm house managing two hours away in Pennsylvania.

So let's review. It's midnight. I'm still jet-laggy since I haven't really been sleeping this week, and a little buzzed, my baby wants to chat, and I'm FREAKING OUT because suddenly all of my plans are screwed up. I don't want to go to New York this weekend! I don't want to re-pack ALL my stuff in a suitcase again. I made other commitments, I got an audition time for Simpatico's production of "This is Our Youth" on Saturday, I have no clean clothes, I feel fat and a little crazed, my life is spread out in a mess all over my childhood bedroom like vomit at a sorority party, and suddenly I'm on film. What if I suck? What if the magic I had at my audition dies? What if I'm not worth all this trouble?

See, there it is again. At the root of all my worrying, my whining and my freakouts, it all comes down to my low self-esteem. I want to push it off me because when it comes down to actually doing the job, I don't think I'm good enough. And the thing is...I like this script. I like this director, and I am honestly really excited to shoot this film. I just want to do a good job. It scares me when I'm actually part of something that I want to do well in, because it's easy to do a thousand Zombie Plays and be like, "You better treat me like a princess, because I'm overqualified and awesome" but when you're part of something you want to really and truly succeed at...well, you want to succeed.

So. I'm on the BoltBus. Going to New York. Rehearsal in 2 hours, and filming all night Friday and Saturday. And then somehow...back to house-manage on Sunday at 12:30. Overbooked. But, like, Theatre Horizon's musical, I'm working. I'm doing it. Maybe for just this weekend, but I'm acting. Get over it, and get it done.