Tonight was the first rehearsal of Girl in the Goldfish Bowl.  We’ve assembled an amazing production team, a stellar cast, and the script is just fantastic.  I love this play.  I’m excited that we’re going to bring it to life.  I’ve been really looking forward to this evening’s rehearsal. 

And then we were told that we weren’t allowed to “congregate” in our home, the LPCC.  “Congregate.”  Something about that word being applied to the well-nigh spiritual experience of a first rehearsal is really getting under my skin.  ”Congregate” you say?  Humph.  We were not allowed to “congregate” because of a miscommunication with our contract, and the restrictions to do with insurance that said miscommunication imposed, etc. etc.  I won’t bore you with the details. 

In my own life, I was never kicked out of my house.  My parents never even threatened to kick me out; I know that’s not the experience of everyone my age.  I have friends who were kicked out of their house or even disowned because they were “trouble,” because they were gay, because – get this – they wanted to study theatre.  I have been blessed with the world’s most supportive families, both biological and urban.  I am very lucky indeed.

But I feel tonight a little bit like I’ve been kicked out of my house.  Only I’m not really sure what I’ve done wrong.  I mean, I understand that there’s a paper that needs to be signed and then everything will presumably be forgiven and life will go on much as before.  But for right now, I have a sick, unsettled feeling in my stomach.  It’s not the same as the countless men and women without an actual home, the ones who are suffering even as I write this from my cozy studio – complete with heat and running water – and I don’t presume to know or even to be able to conjecture what that feels like.  I think it’s just going to make me even more grateful for our home when we get to move back in. 

Something else to be grateful for is a cast and production team that rolled beautifully with this sucker punch of an evening.  We sat in Stanley’s (delightful food, excellent & understanding service), had some snacks (and drinks) and read the play.  We had a reading to wake up the play last December – which was awesome – but there is already such a great deal more nuance and depth.  I cannot wait to see what’s next.   

And I am reminded yet again, renewal does not guarantee you a bump-free ride to an undisputedly happy ending.  For the plans of mice, men, Jessie, and New Leaf, renewal just promises us the chance for a new beginning.