"Every person takes the limits of their own field of vision for the limits of the world." - Arthur Schopenhauer
Back in May, I was asked to be on the board for the independent theatre company two of my friends were starting. The first show would be Romeo and Juliet, and they wanted me to stage manage. I said yes. There was a little bit of a rocky start, but we got things rolling and everything was fine.
Back in July, I was asked to take up a part in Romeo and Juliet. Someone had dropped out, and they needed me. I said yes. There was that day it was pouring down rain and the only cast member present, the director, and I paced around on top of tables shouting monologues at each other. There was that week when I threw up on two days, and felt sick for all five.
There was that week when I was out of town and the rest of the cast had the police called on them due to a prop gun someone thought was real.
There was that night when I was rehearsing in full costume in front of my house very late in the evening and had the police called on me.
There was that week of panic when we unexpectedly didn't know if we even had a performance space.
There was that week when everything came together and we put on a freaking fantastic show.
And now the best three months of my life so far are over--I start school in a week, and I won't get to hang out in 100+ degree heat for 3-4 hours every day anymore (tragic, isn't it?). As our director said right before I walked on stage, tonight was the last night we'll ever do Romeo and Juliet together. I'm going to miss it.
And then, after a couple weeks' break, we'll be throwing ourselves right back into the fray of our next production, and I'll start wondering why I thought it would be a good idea to pile on yet another activity.
I'm so excited.
(Oh, hi college applications...I didn't see you there. No, I haven't been ignoring you. What? No, not at all...)