There’s nothing like telling one of your best friends that you can’t go to his wedding. That phone call was so painful. I wanted to cry every second of it, and the lemonlimetini that I was drinking went from sweet to sour in a single sip.
You feel rebellious and self-assured thinking about your career in the performing arts, that you fought the mainstream, and no one can take you down, but in reality it controls your whole damn life. You can’t turn down work because you’re living check-to-check. And most of the time, calling in sick isn’t an option. Getting a sub just ain’t so easy. Yes, some companies have understudies/covers that go on for singers at the drop of a hat, but stage managers don’t have covers. We can’t just not show up.
I remember many years ago. It was my first summer stock, my first professional job, my first inkling of what it meant to be part of this business…show business (cue spirit fingers). One of my new friends Miss Belt-It-Out Long Legs couldn’t go to her best friend’s wedding, and she was supposed to be the maid-of-honor. It makes you sick to your stomach. There are so many sacrifices that I’ve made to do this, and I’m not sure this one is even close to worth it.
I live just under 1500 miles away from my parents and sister, under 1700 miles from most of my college friends, under 1400 miles from my brother. And I never can control my schedule. The thought of taking a Friday off to have a 3-day weekend is ludicrous. I’m lucky to have one day off a week to get a hair cut, have a dentist appointment, or take little Oscar to the vet. My schedule is always determined for me. Another college friend, the one I’ve known the longest, had her first baby recently. I never even saw her pregnant. It’s been that long since I’ve been able to visit.
This was the wedding that I would have paid a fortune to attend. They’ve been together for nearly a decade or OVER. And now I just can’t go.
“The show must go on” never sounded so bitter.
Round number two.
You feel rebellious and self-assured thinking about your career in the performing arts, that you fought the mainstream, and no one can take you down, but in reality it controls your whole damn life. You can’t turn down work because you’re living check-to-check. And most of the time, calling in sick isn’t an option. Getting a sub just ain’t so easy. Yes, some companies have understudies/covers that go on for singers at the drop of a hat, but stage managers don’t have covers. We can’t just not show up.
I remember many years ago. It was my first summer stock, my first professional job, my first inkling of what it meant to be part of this business…show business (cue spirit fingers). One of my new friends Miss Belt-It-Out Long Legs couldn’t go to her best friend’s wedding, and she was supposed to be the maid-of-honor. It makes you sick to your stomach. There are so many sacrifices that I’ve made to do this, and I’m not sure this one is even close to worth it.
I live just under 1500 miles away from my parents and sister, under 1700 miles from most of my college friends, under 1400 miles from my brother. And I never can control my schedule. The thought of taking a Friday off to have a 3-day weekend is ludicrous. I’m lucky to have one day off a week to get a hair cut, have a dentist appointment, or take little Oscar to the vet. My schedule is always determined for me. Another college friend, the one I’ve known the longest, had her first baby recently. I never even saw her pregnant. It’s been that long since I’ve been able to visit.
This was the wedding that I would have paid a fortune to attend. They’ve been together for nearly a decade or OVER. And now I just can’t go.
“The show must go on” never sounded so bitter.
Round number two.
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