I have a little over a month to put together a show based on this blog - a blog that is clearly not gunning for any awards. I have to script, rehearse, film, edit, choreograph and market something that amounts to a glorified one-woman show and I have always kind of found one woman shows to be obnoxious.
It seemed like such a great idea when I booked the space...
And yet in the light of day, I kind of feel like a moron. I am not sure what I expect people to pay to hear. (And the paying part is kind of the point since the show is a fundraiser.)
I can be glib and snarky from the comfort of my living room in my sweat pants with the ripped out crotch, but on stage in front of - lets hope - seventy people I wonder what exactly it is they want to hear.
When I started thinking about doing this, I thought how fun it might be - excerpts from the blog dramatized with the flailing hand gestures that seem to accompany any good story I ever tell - like last night when the woman at the table next to us in the restaurant asked if my fizzy drink was some kind of chi-chi house cocktail. I told her it was Alkaseltzer and I liked the high when I mixed it with my beer.
These things happen all the time. Crazy interactions with strangers on the street that somehow just emphasize the fact that if you stop looking for a partner and start looking for a life, you never know what - and who - you might find.
I realize that I can sound completely full of shit. So holier than thou, in the land of dating, especially considering my youth (well, I say youth) and the monstrous mistakes I have made thus far.
Take Kansas City. I have moved to the worst city for singles in the country and I did it because I followed a guy...GASP.
Maybe that is not the full story but it was a factor. I got back from Russia and for the first time I was completely without ties. No relationships, no job, no address. And no direction.
I don't know that I ever experienced anything as scary as complete and total freedom.
My step-sister's youngest is just learning to walk and I was watching him over Thanksgiving thinking how that first step has to be the most terrifying. Everything after is a cake walk by comparison - but that first choice to pick up and plant your foot somewhere - in some direction, that is the hardest. Luckily as babies we have our instinct to guide us. We have yet to be molded into over-analytical fear-stricken robots.
So when I found out that my college boyfriend had moved to KC, I took it as a sign. I sign to make a choice towards something.
Obviously, that didn't work out - to which anyone with half a mind would say, duh - but it was the beginning of life built on choice toward rather than running away.
I think some people might disagree with me, that the choice not to date out of necessity is some kind of hiding but I think they would be wrong.
Writing and thinking about life defined from within has completely changed my perspective on partnership - because that is what relationships, all relationships have the opportunity to be.
I was about to write "should" there, as in "should be" but fuck it - what do I know? The less "shoulds" I tout the better.
But this still doesn't solve my problem of the show.
I have some great stories about blind dates gone terribly awry, nude modeling for seniors art classes, befriending an odd conglomeration of relationship misfits, and falling down - a lot.
I have some songs and musical numbers that don't involve dancing -lord knows that would require me to give everyone a refund - about love and loss and the development of cellulite.
And hopefully if all works out, I might just have some fun little video instillations the highlight it all.
Right now these are thoughts. Piles of post-it notes tacked up to my closet doors. Man, do I miss my cheap mirrored closet and large collection of dry erase markers.
I guess I need to get to work. And I hope to dear god people come.
Failure is fine but failure alone is no fun. Let's share the misery together shall we?