Time for thinking doesn’t necessarily lead to deep thinking.

Tomorrow, we open.  Which means for the last week or so, I’ve had plenty of time for thinking (sitting backstage in the dark) but no time for writing any of it down.  But here are some things I’ve thought about.

One of the actors (Craig) has a t-shirt with Sesame Street characters on it, in a kind of artistic rendering.  He said he bought it so his 3-year-old daughter would think he was cool.  And I was looking at this t-shirt and thinking about how if my dad had worn it for me when I was that age, I probably would have worried (quietly, without saying anything to anyone) that that’s not what the characters I knew from TV looked like.  I was a very specific child, and allowed for very little leeway in the way I “knew” things to be.  Example: I had just learned how to write my name in cursive, and my babysitter’s daughter, who was maybe 4 years older than me, was showing me her signature.  Her name also began with an S, and she was writing it with all lowercase letters – something I’m sure everyone does at some point, something I definitely did and sometimes still do – but my 7 or 8 year old mind COULD NOT grasp that this was okay.  But I didn’t dare bring that up, because on top of being stubbornly unable to look at things from slightly different angles, I was also painfully shy.  So I just worried, that’s the feeling I remember the most, just worrying, because Shonna didn’t know any better and was writing her name with a lowercase S.

Similiarly, I have always had issues recognizing guys when they change their facial hair.  I don’t know why.  It’s the same with girls and major hair changes.  I’m not talking about people I know, I’m talking about acquaintances and movie stars.  Except in one instance: I don’t know how old I was, but based on the setup of our living room, I was pretty young.  And I was sitting on the floor watching TV, and then I heard someone come into the living room and sit down on the couch behind me.  I turned and there was a strange clean-shaven man in my house.  He looked at me and smiled and waved.  I smiled back and then turned back toward the TV, supremely freaked out.  I’m not sure at what point later that day I realized that this was my dad, who had just shaved off his full beard.

What else did I think about during this week of sitting…  Remember when I said that I never know when to leave a party?  I think, to put a positive spin on it, I want to squeeze every last drop of joy out of an experience.  When Drew and I went to see 13 at MTC over the summer, I went upstairs to drop something in the Production Manager’s box, and I was so bittersweet sad because I thought I’d never be back to work another show.  And now here I am, wringing out every ounce of enjoyment.  No more guesswork and no “path not taken” wishing.

Then I think about how much I like some of the people I’ve met, and I’m glad that I have met them.  Last Saturday I randomly saw the stage manager from the first show I did at MTC, and an actor from the reading I stage managed between Equivocation and Woody Guthrie, and the three of us went to get soup from Whole Foods and catch up.  And I had a blast, for like 45 minutes.  But he’s moving to New York and she’s quitting stage managing to work a real job at Pixar, and I’m like, that’s inspiring and hopeful.

I’ve done a lot of circular thinking this week.  Also a lot of reading.  Also I put together and mailed in my application to be a California substitute teacher.