I Am Superwoman: Part One

I’m sorry;  I’ve been so busy being awesome that this blog has once again fallen by the wayside.

You know that feeling when things just click and you absolutely know you’re kicking ass? Yeah. That’s been me.

Rewind to the final trimester of pregnancy – that time when women are advised to take it easy, slow down, eliminate stress. What do I do? I’m a bridesmaid in the wedding of one of my oldest friends. My social life screeches along at full tilt and I see so many theatre shows. My husband and I even take in dinner and a show with my high school theatre teacher/mentor and his wife.

I do not have words for how awesome it is to be friends with him as an adult. Weird, when I pause to consider how dynamics have shifted over time, but awesome.

I even acted in a play. At eight months pregnant. Go me! In an odd, unplanned turn of events – a hell week development – I ended up operating sound, too. From backstage. On my phone.

Related: my husband is beyond amazing and QLab is a program that solves so many theatre tech problems.

September also had another wedding (I only attended that one!) and two awesome writer-friends came for separate visits. Which means we hosted for two and a half weeks   of our September.

That stuff was all planned for, to one extent or another. Some had been in the works since before I got pregnant. Some other things came up that I just couldn’t say no to (or didn’t know any better until it was too late).

What didn’t I plan on? My boss giving her two weeks’ notice. On the same day I had a letter to submit stating my intention not to return after the baby.

I never did submit that letter.

The thing is, this town has a three-person office and we’d just hired a new part-timer to replace the one who left earlier in the summer. (This all happened her first week, poor woman.) So I was already training her. Then suddenly I was interim Town Administrator, Treasurer, and Tax Collector, while still carrying all my previous workload and responsibilities.

September became the month from hell, but, Dear Reader, I kicked its ass.

I may have been waddling around on appendages that look more like overpuffed marshmallows than feet, but I felt like superwoman. Even though I dropped things – promises, responsibilities – in every aspect of my life. How I didn’t develop stress-related pregnancy complications we’ll never know.

This sleeping baby is worse than a cat when she starts to squirm, so the rest of this saga will have to wait for part two.


Shake It Up!

So it was past time for a little spring summer cleaning of the blog, most of it cosmetic, but you may notice an extra widget in the sidebar. (I might be in avoidance mode, but there is no part of this national healthcare farce I am ok with. Because I can’t be ok with the message, “Just f*ck off and die.”)

That’s right, folks: I have Instagram.

I upgraded my phone in May from a Windows phone with few apps and poor connectivity in areas where I actually want the connection to a shiny new iPhone 7. Social media suddenly became easier! Before, it felt like a chore and offered one more thing to overwhelm me.

One huge bonus? I’m able to check in sporadically to social media and email without getting sucked into bunny trail distractions. This means that when I come home, I don’t feel so tied to the computer.

Go me! More time and opportunity to write! To be creatively productive!

. . . Ok, I feel your skepticism. But the opportunity is there! I just lack in follow-through. (At least I know I’m in good company?)

I created an Instagram account not knowing if I would actually use it, but it was a goal I’d set for myself at the beginning of the year. And guess what?

I use it. Probably more than Facebook and Twitter combined.

And I love my username: @writinginterrupted. It’s just so perfect, in so many ways.

When Things Don’t Go According To Plan

If you’ve been following along over on Anxiety Ink, you know I tried to do a Thing that didn’t go anywhere near the way I hoped.

I set a date and time for a writing workshop on worldbuilding. I reserved the space at the library. A few people told me they would definitely-for-sure be there.

Then with maybe 48 hours to go, the cancellations came in.

‘Disappointing’ doesn’t begin to cover it. I had been so excited to finally do this thing I’ve thought about and wanted to do for years, only to have it all collapse at the last minute.

But I’m currently in the process of shifting my life to a greater focus on all things creative. My attempts to lead workshops do not end here. This will be a Thing and it will happen.

And in the meantime, I’ll be using the excuse to get familiar with this video equipment we have and turn my workshop plans into short videos.

Do you have any writing topics you’d like to see covered? What is something you’ve always wanted creative writing classes/workshops to do or talk about?

And if you have any favorite YouTubers who talk about writing, I could use some recommendations!

Busy Busy Theatre Bee

Though I’ve been quiet on here, I’ve been busy. It’s funny how creative things seem to spawn more creative things.

I’ve had a ridiculous number of offers and invitations to audition, participate in a reading of a new play to be presented to a professional theatre company, participate in a staged reading of Macbeth (as Macduff!), to be in a show later this summer . . . even an offer of a role that I had to turn down because of other theatre conflicts.

Being in a position to turn down a role sounds like a pretty fantastic humble-brag – especially when even getting cast just doesn’t happen much – but it’s stupidly stressful.

It’s been more than a little frenetic when I stop to think about it, so I try not to. But I’ve made new friends and new theatre connections. We’ll see where they take me! And it’s also an amazing ego boost to be offered so many opportunities.

At the most frantic point, I did three auditions in a week and a half. Because that’s what everyone does when four months pregnant. (At least first trimester exhaustion had relaxed its grip by then.) One of those an open call for a professional theatre, which is something that has terrified me.

The experience was absolutely terrifying. But now that I’ve done it once, maybe it won’t intimidate me so much to try it again.

It doesn’t feel possible that all this has happened in the span of three months. While attempting to negotiate the reality of a first pregnancy.

My Silence Comes In Waves

When I fall into radio silence for an extended time, you know something’s going on with me. That something could be good or bad, or just many somethings all at once.

I haven’t posted here since I found out I’m pregnant.

EEEEEE!!!! OMG!!!!!!! (Finally!)

I’ve known a solid three months now. It took me ages to tell the closest friends and family. A week or so ago, I made it Facebook-official.

Speaking about it, getting excited about it, feels like I’m going to jinx everything. Nothing is guaranteed so I don’t dare take this for granted. Our families are ecstatic, but we’re slower to join the party.

Maybe once I actually feel the little one kicking and moving I’ll stop waiting quite so much for the other shoe to drop (though we’ll still have to contend with juggling the as-yet unmet reality of life-with-baby and how that will change absolutely everything).

This whole not-taking-it-for-granted thing seems fairly uncommon, just based on what I see from friends and family. Maybe I have an oddly skewed sample population, or maybe it’s one of those things no one ever talks about.

Because not talking about things makes everything better, right?

Related note: when will we get a sarcasm font?

But if a worst case scenario happens, I don’t want it to catch me completely by surprise. The lack of surprise wouldn’t make it hurt any less, but it would help my ability to cope.

And this post has now taken a turn for the depressing when it was supposed to be happy. I am happy! We are. More than happy. My point is that this latest round of blog-silence came from many places, for many reasons.

Here’s hoping the next wave comes from negotiating life with a screaming newborn!

Mixing Extremes

Saturday was crazy! An awesome sort of crazy, even if it totally kicked my ass. (Yeah, it did.)

My day started with a workshop. A local theatre offers occasional master classes, and that day they held an audition boot camp. Which was exactly as advertised. Intense and amazing, and I was more than a little discouraged when I left.

I chose Puck’s final monologue in Midsummer Night’s Dream because I’ve had it memorized since my sophomore year of high school and I’ve always adored the character of Puck.

You know how plans and intentions in your head tend to fall apart when you go to carry them out? Yeah, that’s pretty much how this went. And up on a stage, in front of a roomful of people is not how I would have chosen to find out that I still have a whole bunch of hangups and fears in relation to physicality.

I was terrible. No, really, I was.

If I make it out when the theatre has its next open audition call, that is not a monologue I will use. Puck is what I would like to achieve as an actor, but I am not there.

To get there, I have to learn how to get out of my head and into my body.

Then immediately after the class, I drove out to a video shoot. (As I said: crazy day!) A local aspiring filmmaker needed actors for a montage. Two takes and I was done, and it might amount to ten seconds of screen time if it doesn’t end up on the cutting room floor. But for less than an hour, including just waiting and gabbing, I got paid almost as much as a full day at the day job.

The best part is that now I can say I’ve been paid for acting. So that’s a milestone.

Social Magic of Storytelling

Let me tell you a story. (that’s why you’re here, after all.)

I went to a party. It was a Friday after a long, crazy day at work that joined two weeks’ worth of long, crazy days. I went alone. I went with nerves and doubts.

See, I was afraid I wouldn’t know anyone at the party except the host. Sometimes I hate being right.

Like most of us, I’m not always comfortable in social situations, even with my occasional extroverted tendencies. So it began with the awkward standing, offers to help to make myself useful and give me something to do, feeling brave when I smiled at strangers. Just not quite brave enough to introduce myself.

Then my host introduced me to someone with an auspicious, “You both do theatre!” And the conversation went from there.

In fact, every conversation that night ended up coming back to theatre, or writing, or both. Most often both. And I made new friends!

No, I will never grow out of how awesome it is to make friends.

And that’s a lot of why I went. See, our host was Carrie Jones, who in addition to being an amazing writer is quite possible the kindest and most caring person I have ever met. Her friends were bound to be awesome.

When I came home, I was bouncing off the walls and talking a mile a minute. My poor husband. I tried to blame the punch, but we both knew it was just my extroverted tendencies acting up.

Thanks to those fantastic conversations, I finally read Erin Morgenstern’s The Night Circus, which had been in my to-read pile for years. (Yes, it was every bit as great as the hype.) They also propelled and inspired me to write more, helping to sustain the awesome creative productivity that has so far defined this year.

So my whole long, rambling point: stories are social magic. Also, that was a great party and I’m so glad I went, rather than letting nerves and fears win.