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another kind of me

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For the week of july 20, 1997


tuesday, july 22, 1997, 01:03

So I finally took a break.

Load-in for whatever show I'm working on this summer was on Saturday. That was fun. Saw people I hadn't seen in a year. Literally. Summer stock is like taking a part of my life out of cold storage for a month every summer. And just when it's getting good and fun, i find out that it's time to put it away again for another year.

I suppose that's what keeps it fresh.

But to think that another year's going to have to pass before I see everyone again. That's just wrong.

That's just life.

Strange. Not remember names, yet knowing people. I mean it's one thing to not have any idea who people are, but to know someone, and just not remember their name. What is a name anyway? Just something you call a person by. Not their identity. Really.

Of course. On the other hand. A name can identify. Can define.

Bad move forgetting those names. (they do all come rushing back though, not to worry)

Regardless, this should be one of the better parts of this summer.

Load-in went well. Instead of going back a second day, however, I decided that I would accompany the family in driving the sis up to camp where she'll be making her home for the next month. That was nice. Seeing where she spends her summers. (she's a CT this year -- a conecpt i will never fully understand -- pay money, so they can get you to work -- hrmm)

Was nice, just spending time with them. Away from the house, so there's pretty much nothing that i can do wrong. Dropped her off, then started driving. Heading toward Dartmouth, just to see what it's like.

Pretty nice place that Dartmouth is. Nice campus, nice town. Though it doesn't look like there's much there. I'm much happier where i am. Driving through, we decide that it might be fun to go to Freeport, home of L.L. Bean. Maine.

Never been there.

An adventure. About a five hour adventure. I drove. And mom didn't have a heart attack. I was so impressed.

That whole freeport thing was pretty cool. Ended up in a bed and breakfast there, nice place, old farmhouse. One room, but there was a bed tucked away in the corner for me. Nice and cozy.

Dinner was good, but dad ended up chipping a tooth on a rock in the clams. Not so good. And to make matters worse, the owner was a bit of a prick. Didn't appologize, just sorta sat there like a lump. We'll see what happens.

Went to the 24/7 L.L. Bean retail store. Now who exactly is it that shops there at 4 in the morning? I mean is it really that important that you get a pair of gortex sock right now? I suppose so. They seem to think it's worth it.

Hanging around a bit more. This morning did some more shopping, then the five hour drive back home. Gotta love I95. That's got to be an interesting trip. I95 from Main to Florida.

Okay, that's it. Some day. If anyone's willing to drive with me. Could also hit all 48 mainland states. That'd be even more fun. Oh the things you can dream of when you're young. What the hell is going to happen when I get old and can't screw around any more?

Yikes.

Better have my fun while I can.

wednesday, july 23, 1997, 12:54

"I need a hug," wrote a friend to me.

"You and me both," I responded.

Which is strange, as people who know me will realize. Me. The boy who shuns human contact. Me. the one who would rather be away from people than with. It's strange. I've been finding myself wanting to be more around people than before.

Just to have people acknowledge my existence. To know I'm there. To care that I'm there.

Wow. Talk about sappy. Didn't know this is what I was feeling these days. I think I'm lonely again. The theatre does it to me. Those actor types, doncha know. I could never be one of them. But I think there's some part of me that would like to be up there.

Spotlight? Sure. But not having to deal with actually being there. Just the stuff that goes along with it.

Would be nice.

But it doesn't work that way. And I do get recognition. And people to realize that I'm there. And for some reason, I can only feel that I'm just part of the scenery. Part of something that makes the whole thing turn, yet nothing at the same time.

But enough of this crap. I like what I do, dammit. Work today. Spent the time exporting user records from our database to import them into NT. NT. Sucks for users. And is nothing special for anything else. But for users. 10. Max. Ugh. What do we have? 4000?

Whatever. After that. Ethernet terminations. Mmm... CAT5. Gotta love that wiring. Still fun, I must say. I never tire of wiring.

Then, left work early to go help unload a rental in the theatre that never came (ended up coming later that night). Went home. Went out. Gave a computer lesson.

The computer lessons are good for me. Teaching me how to be patient. Something that I really need. Helps that she wants to learn. Frustrating that she forgets what i teach each week. Enough drilling and it should make an impact.

Back to the theatre. Pushed about 50 feet of feeder cable through a tiny little pipe in the wall to get from the booth backstage. I pushed. Mike pulled. Got it almost all the way through. To be completely tomorrow.

I'm back in the theatre.

Couldn't be happier. (okay, well, i could be happier, but...)

friday, july 25, 1997, 01:26

hands hurt like hell. don't know if it's the typing, or the wiring at work, or the cabling in the theatre. whatever it is, i don't like it. let's fix that. good.

strange how a single note, a certain scene laid out in front of you can evoke memories. scary how those memories are in and out of your head so quickly that you don't even have a chance to enjoy them.

Sitting on stange last night, watching rehearsal, a note, a scene, struck something, but i don't know what. and then it was gone. i hate that.

thinking again today, we were wondering whether or not actors really realize how much work we do. if set people are barely visible in the minds of the other theatre folk, then lighting people are total phantoms. What? they come in, bam, one day, there are lights on them. like magic. probably never really occurs to them that someone actually had to put those up.

Just a thought. I don't really care. really. it's just amusing to think of what perceptions must be. what do we do during rehearsals? we sit and watch the show. during the show, we just disappear up to that little booth in the back of the theatre.

We are invisible.

A blessing and a curse.

time for sleep before i fall asleep in my chair. ugh. same old same old tomorrow.


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