an ode to drama friends

Its 8:52 on a Tuesday evening
I just finished washing dishes that had been sitting there since Sunday

Wearing a seafoam green robe from heather,
I started thinking, and don’t know why I came among these thoughts, but thought of them and immediately ran to the computer as I turned off the faucet
Saying, I need to write this down
For a reason, I am thinking of these people whom I have not seen nor talked to in years, haven’t given much thought to our laughs conversations or antics for even more time…

An ode

An ode to drama friends

To those who laughed at my jokes
To those who listened to incubus and knew twelfth night and danced on the side of the sage wearing all black when we weren’t good enough to actually make the show, but remained as techies instead
To those who were comfortable repeating unique new york, new york unique

To those fixing mics to those helping with makeup costume changes and lighting
To the little shop of horrors
To all the shows standing on the side, helping, adding, assisting, biding our time

Red leather yellow leather, red leather yellow leather

To those who had acne, and whos dad was a rabbi and those who grew long hair
To those who went to community college after high school  and those who went to u of o
Who moved to new york
Who sang in musical theatre, and who pursued nothing of theatrical  agenda

You accepted me
And I don’t think I really realized it until the past days
Ive been thinking of you

Jen copsey
Miss d

That day I made cougar company – what an accomplishment that was
Writing in my journal ‘this is my first step to hollywood’
Signing friends year books ‘keep this signature, it will be worth something someday’

Monologues of broken relationships, failed accents, odd mannerisms and attempted characterizations of people I never knew or saw or could even imagine

Attempting to dress 70s when vintage hadn’t come in yet and not understanding what 1970s fashion was
Thinking that ringlets were the equivalent of farrah’s feathering
Awkward, nervous,  tiger printed tight shirts, and yet so much laughing
So much acceptance, and tolerance and understanding

Drama friends

Remembering the day that elliot smith committed suicide and you saying you thought about him and were sad
And the time we went to your house and it was so cold in your basemet with brown carpet
And jens awesome sense of style and her amazing low scatting voice
Where are you all now
Lowell and your red suv and your laugh and gapped teeth and friendship and understanding
Bulbuious alien and freckles and lights all around the mirrors
And putting so much makeup on before footloose
And thinking that teasing my ponytail made me more vintage
And dancing on the sidelines, just weird leg quivering, knee knocking and hands twirling weird dancing

My drinking tea and emergen-c trying to not lose my voice and trying not to get sick
Red boots
And my thinking that musical theatre trumped theatre ,and my movement out of the drama sphere
My joining asb, and so many choirs and activities trumping all that was unique and awkward and understanding and weird
My thinking of moving to LA and only pursuing
Changing minds, meeting new friends choosing other routes
I fear I became too good
Leaving the rawness
The understanding
The weirdness the impromptu the wit
Thinking of the acceptance, the musical solitude
The ben folds
And I weep thinking of you all and thinking I don’t know you, I have no idea where you are and who you are and what youre doing

The significance you ahd on my life
The understanding you portrayed to me
The deep resounding love you had for me, despite our differing beliefs and teenage lement
Despite my puffy body and short hair and braces and eyelined eyes
That was real, a true unconditional love
The love only drama people can provide
The thespians, the feelers, the comfortable in the sincere awkard

1 comment: said...

this is so good, so beautiful, just perfectly lovely.