Tell Me About It

It’s funny that Mr. Forty posted what he did.  I drifted off to sleep last night having similar thoughts, but in a markedly different way.  Which is the way things often are between the Mr. and me.  We have very similar feelings on things, but usually get there via profoundly different roads.

I lay in bed last night, too goddamn tired to actually let this series of thoughts keep me awake, but significant enough that I told myself I would address my concerns in the morning.

(That’s the kind of bargaining I have to do with myself in order to maintain sanity. I assure myself that my concerns are valid, but that I need to bring them up for consideration at a more appropriate time. Fortunately, I am very obedient to this voice, most of the time).

I was thinking about it this morning as I dragged ass out of bed and forced myself  to wash (and blow dry) my hair.  I was thinking about it as I drove into work this morning. I was thinking about it as I made direct eye contact with my boss and tried to tease out what part of his brain thinks it is okay to stare at me blankly when I say, “It was in the one email I sent you – the one with the subject line, PLEASE READ THIS EMAIL.”

(My boss, god bless him, does not read emails. It’s past being quirky and has now crossed into infuriating).

What was I thinking? Oh, about how ultimately, I am much better suited to this new life than the Mr.  It’s not his fault or anything, it’s just, well, it’s different for me.

Let me preface by saying there are a lot of people in this world who wander (and are not lost). These are the folks who go from job to job, or perhaps inversely, stay at the same job, in the same role, for decades. They aren’t particularly passionate about something and that either causes them a great deal of stress as they look for their “calling,” or they simply accept the fact that life is pretty good and Hey! It’s free scoop day at Baskin-Robbins!

I am not one of those people. From the time I could have rational thought and have experiences that I would come to remember – I have wanted to be on a stage. I was the kid who truly shined in the school play, I was the child who wanted to act out stories, put together costumes out of mom’s old clothes, and attempt foreign dialects at a precocious age (my Irish dialect was perfected at age 7 after watching Darby O’Gill and the Little People over and over and over again).

By 8 I convinced my parents this was all I would ever be good at. And looking at their checkbooks and seeing what it cost to watch me fail at ballet, piano, art, soccer, swimming, tennis and gymnastics, they sighed and agreed.

By 9 I had my Screen Actors Guild card.

By 14 I had several television credits to my name.

By 20 I was, for all practical purposes, a commercial success.

It was all I wanted to do. Granted I was fortunate that I was a really bright kid and I also really enjoyed learning, so my grades were good and there was no way I wasn’t going to college. Of course once I got there, I was cast in a television show (you know like you do your freshman year).

And so, I filmed a television show 90 minutes from my University four days a week and went to class three days a week – for two years.

Like you do, yanno, when you’re cramming for a biology mid-term in-between shooting an all-night prom scene at a resort with 500 extras.  Remember when that happened to you in college? Good times.

After I graduated (with my BFA in theater) I went off to LA and held every manner of day job, night job, mid-day job, twilight job, ten jobs at once, to make ends meet so that I could audition and perform professionally. I did jobs that were beneath me, jobs I wasn’t qualified for, jobs I didn’t understand, and a lot (most) jobs I didn’t like.

And here’s the kicker…. I got married.  Yep, Mr. Forty is my second husband. My first husband wasn’t such a fan of LA and over time the pressure to leave became great and – judge if you like – I caved to that.  We moved back to Florida (where we were both from).

For about six months I got to be an actor in Florida. With my old connections, I quickly picked up work. I took on odd jobs to make ends meet, taught some classes, and kept my options to be able to audition open. Over time, this wasn’t good enough for my ex and he pressured me to take a “real” job.

Which I did.

Acting became something I did at night, after work, with a theater company some friends had formed.

But the acting became too much time away from my ex and he became resentful. Resentment of too much time with other performers became accusations of affairs, and eventually, he simply wasn’t there anymore.

My passion for performing was a huge component in my marriage ending. And I feel not one shred of remorse for that. It’s kind of hard to fault yourself when a man marries you when you’re an actress who wants to perform her whole life and then resents you because you’re an actress who is trying to perform, maybe just a little bit between the hours of 5 p.m. and 10 p.m.?

Over the last 12 years that I have been back in Florida I have performed and directed in several shows. I have picked up an odd on-camera job here and there – usually for friends, rarely for money.  I think the longest I went without being on a stage (or working on a show) was about 4-6 months. But I haven’t been a full time actor since…

And here’s where the Mr. and I are different. I haven’t been a full time actor ever. Not once. Not once in my entire life did my life revolve around what I love to do more than anything else in the whole world. This is where the difference lies. I do not see this child as something that will turn my life upside down and cause me (force me?) to reprioritize.  I do not think of what I will have to “give up” or do “less” because I will be a mom.  My life has been, for as long as I have known it, upside down.  I have always had to sacrifice something so that I could be on stage. Sacrifice sleep. Sacrifice a better job. Sacrifice my health. Sacrifice my reputation. Sacrifice my relationships.  I only know that guilt that comes with knowing you aren’t doing what you were put on this earth to do.  I only know the frustration that comes with doing something because you have to pay your bills, have health insurance, feed your dogs.

This is where every artist is nodding their head and screaming “Preach is Sister Forty!” Because this is the life of an artist.  It’s not unlike the life of a working parent.  It is knowing how to juggle the things you have to do to get by in society with the things you do to contribute to society.  There aren’t enough hours in a day? No shit. You work 60 hours a week? Yep, I did that and then did 30 hours of rehearsal (it can actually be done).  You wish you had more time for the things you love? Take a number bitch, we’ve been in this line for a long fucking time. (These statements aren’t directed at Mr. Forty btw, just what I hear from people in general and how that rolls around in my brain).

My only fear at this point is will I have the energy to do the last few things I have committed myself to in the next six months? Things I committed to not knowing that I would be creating my own “original work.” I have a play I’m supposed to direct. I have a creativity course I am supposed to teach. I want to do these things because they make me happy, and I always find the time to do the things I love, because that’s what I have done since I was a kid, a college student, a twenty-something, a first wife, a divorcee, a marketing director, a new wife, and soon, a mom.

Maybe soon, the stage and the teaching won’t seem as important either. I bet I’ll still want to get in a classroom occasionally, but my best teaching job is currently being developed. While I like the idea of getting back on a stage eventually, I’ve been doing this for 30 years – I can take a break I think.

There is that fleeting daydream that should, by some miracle, in a few years I find Critter in my old costumes and wigs with that look in their eye, I will do everything in my power to nurture and love and develop that passion.  And I will pray to the Universe, “Please, give them the break I didn’t get.”

That would make me happier than anything.