Today, I was supposed to work from 10:30-7:00. Didn't happen. I told my office that I had to be at FSU "general auditions" from 9:30 til 7:00 or so, and I'd work after that. When I got to the auditions, I was told that call backs for the show I'm Assistant Directing were scheduled for 7:00 tonight. OK. Guess I can't work.
I said earlier that I might need to quit my job. I said, "If a faculty member says 'Can you be here tonight at 7:00?'" I need to be able to do that. Well it happened tonight- and classes haven't even started yet. But it happened, and will continue to happen. So I have to quit my job and be a traditionally-poor grad student. I hate to give up the money, but I was SO HAPPY all day today- back where I belong. And that's even with being at auditions from 9:30 this morning till 11:20 at night.
I'm so excited about this school and all that I'll be doing. It's not what I expected. It's so much more. There's a reason FSU is one of the top directing schools in the country. I'm so happy- and so lucky. :)
Monday, August 25, 2008
Sunday, August 17, 2008
Nerves
Oh, my...
I've just been looking at the webpages written by and things written about my fellow directing students here at FSU. They all have, like, credits. And resumes. And existing careers in the theatre. I have... a BFA, a number of years of doing very little artistically, a nearly-completed degree in Storytelling, of all things, a good mind (hopefully), and very little else. What have I gotten myself into?
I feel like I'm going to be Eliza Doolittle at Ascot (without the admirers). "Come on, Dover! Move yer bloomin' arse!"
I have to remember that the (hopefully) good mind is exactly that. I didn't get admitted to this program based on my resume. And I have to tell myself (over and over again) that I didn't get admitted to this program because they needed to fill the space and quickly. There were hundreds of other people it could have been offered to- and they gave it to me.
I feel like I have a lot to prove. I didn't apply. I didn't try for it like you're supposed to. It was just handed to me, really. I have the fear that on Monday, when we have to sit in a circle and introduce ourselves, as you invariably have to do, I'll hear lists of achievements and accomplishments and well-thought-out goals. Then I'll say who I am, and everyone in the room will think, "How the f@ck did he get here?" Like when I was in London, I took a working-class guy to Harrod's for the first time. He'd never been because he thought the doorman would know he didn't belong, and wouldn't let him in. And that's not really the right mindset to enter into this with.
Anyway, I have to remember and believe that I'm here for a reason. I may not have the experience or training of the other students, but I do have what I have. I'm talented, I'm smart as hell, and I'm here to learn.
I've just been looking at the webpages written by and things written about my fellow directing students here at FSU. They all have, like, credits. And resumes. And existing careers in the theatre. I have... a BFA, a number of years of doing very little artistically, a nearly-completed degree in Storytelling, of all things, a good mind (hopefully), and very little else. What have I gotten myself into?
I feel like I'm going to be Eliza Doolittle at Ascot (without the admirers). "Come on, Dover! Move yer bloomin' arse!"
I have to remember that the (hopefully) good mind is exactly that. I didn't get admitted to this program based on my resume. And I have to tell myself (over and over again) that I didn't get admitted to this program because they needed to fill the space and quickly. There were hundreds of other people it could have been offered to- and they gave it to me.
I feel like I have a lot to prove. I didn't apply. I didn't try for it like you're supposed to. It was just handed to me, really. I have the fear that on Monday, when we have to sit in a circle and introduce ourselves, as you invariably have to do, I'll hear lists of achievements and accomplishments and well-thought-out goals. Then I'll say who I am, and everyone in the room will think, "How the f@ck did he get here?" Like when I was in London, I took a working-class guy to Harrod's for the first time. He'd never been because he thought the doorman would know he didn't belong, and wouldn't let him in. And that's not really the right mindset to enter into this with.
Anyway, I have to remember and believe that I'm here for a reason. I may not have the experience or training of the other students, but I do have what I have. I'm talented, I'm smart as hell, and I'm here to learn.
Friday, August 08, 2008
New Homes
Hmmm... a quandary.
We're finally in our lovely little house in Florida. Unpacking, all that stuff. Trixie's been playing the front yard on a tie-out (only when one of us is outside, too, of course). But this morning, around 15 minutes after I brought her in, here came two very large white dogs to sniff around my yard. They both appeared to be boxer mixes- possibly boxer/pit mix. Certainly large, muscular, un-neutered dogs. So Trixie's only going out on a leash until the fence is built. And here's the quandary- do I risk pissing off the new neighbors (none of whom we've met) by calling Animal Control next time I see these roving behemoths? Or do I just accept it and wait for the fence? I'm sure you know what I'd like to do. It remains to be seen what I actually do. What would you do?
In other news, we're in such a small town that we have to read our own electric meter. And I'm still not accustomed to the dirt roads.
We're finally in our lovely little house in Florida. Unpacking, all that stuff. Trixie's been playing the front yard on a tie-out (only when one of us is outside, too, of course). But this morning, around 15 minutes after I brought her in, here came two very large white dogs to sniff around my yard. They both appeared to be boxer mixes- possibly boxer/pit mix. Certainly large, muscular, un-neutered dogs. So Trixie's only going out on a leash until the fence is built. And here's the quandary- do I risk pissing off the new neighbors (none of whom we've met) by calling Animal Control next time I see these roving behemoths? Or do I just accept it and wait for the fence? I'm sure you know what I'd like to do. It remains to be seen what I actually do. What would you do?
In other news, we're in such a small town that we have to read our own electric meter. And I'm still not accustomed to the dirt roads.
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