Life, Post-Daddy's Girl

I realize that people in theatre do this all the time – give everything they have to a show, and when it’s over, they move on. But since it’s been about 10 years since I’ve done theatre, I’m allowing myself some adjustment time. And I’m fine with the fact that I process experiences slowly.

It’s been two weeks since our last show. I suddenly have time to do laundry, clean the house, and make something for dinner more complicated than frozen pizza. I get to go back to my weekly Bible study. I can actually hang out with Steve in the evenings, and I can finally get back to the stack of books waiting for me on my bedside table. (I seem to be on a freedom-for-oppressed-women kick: I just read Princess Masako: Prisoner of the Chrysanthemum Throne and Daughter of the Saints: Growing Up in Polygamy)

But last week, after a day or two of pretty much just coming home from work and crashing, I wandered around the house trying to figure out what to do. I felt lost and disoriented, because suddenly Daddy’s Girl was not the boss of me anymore. I left my stack of memorabilia – the poster, my program that Gary Ray Stapp signed, cute gift from the director, a menu that was used in the play, and my script – out on the kitchen island until two days ago. I just didn’t want to put it all away. Now it’s all up in my office, and it sort of looks like a shrine. Yikes.

Steve was elated that I was home in the evenings, and I was mopey. Always a good combination. We had the usual (I would assume) debates about when/if I would do a play again anytime soon. It was a pretty significant time commitment: about 16 hours a week, sometimes more. I loved every minute of it, but I realize the toll that kind of absence takes on a marriage. My hope is that next time, if there is a next time, we would both be more prepared for the time thing.

At this point, I’ve seen a couple of the cast members post-play, at home and at church, so it’s been nice to keeping building the relationships outside the theatre building. I think that’s helped put a period on the whole thing. Also the fact that life does go on!

Steve’s parents are here this weekend, then next weekend I’m going to Michigan to hang out with some college friends, then the next weekend I go to North Carolina for a wedding, and then the day AFTER I get back, I go to Peru for 10 days. And then comes the holidays. Whew. So, while I don't think I've quite gone through the conclusion to this whole experience, life post-Daddy’s Girl has been pretty good, now that I think about it!

Engrish and Podcasts

Whenever I'm having a rough day, am bored, or need to perk up, I go to Engrish.com for the finest English misuse from around the world. Mainly China and other eastern Asian countries. I just start looking at pictures until I laugh out loud. Which usually doesn't take long! Here's a stellar example:

"Only authorized rigmarole."

It's awesome. In other news, we are going to start producing podcasts available for download on the WGM website. I'm super stoked. Anything we can do to get the word out in as many different mediums as we can! I think I'm going to be handling the tech side of things, with uploading to the iTunes site, etc. And I also get to be one of the voices - we're starting by using articles from the Call to Prayer. Hopefully they'll sound good!

Silence

A while ago in chapel at work, we watched a short film by Rob Bell, pastor of Mars Hill church in Grand Rapids. He talked about God speaking to Elijah – not with the storm or the earthquake – but with a still, small voice, or as it is sometimes translated, in the silence. The film went on to be completely silent, only flashing words on the screen. The point was that it’s possible that there is a connection between the amount of noise in our lives, and our closeness to God.

We are constantly exposed to so much noise. Cell phones, TV’s, radios, MP3 players, computers, so much that exists to be something to listen to or to interact with.

At one point in the film, there was about 60 seconds of nothing. No audio, no visual, just silence. And it was uncomfortable.

Why do we feel the need to fill the silence?

Is it because we can’t bear the fact that when there’s no noise, there’s nothing to distract us from our own thoughts? Or does it mean that the only thing left to do is listen to God, and that makes us squirm in our seats?

When was the last time I worshiped God in the silence?

Daddy's Girl is here!

The set is done, with just one or two little mishaps. Lines are memorized, with just a few little hiccups here and there. And lights are set, with just a few little awkward moments.

I've been sick this week with a cold/cough/sore throat/fever. I know, great timing. My voice is a little lower than it should be, but I think it'll be okay. The odd squeak will just add to my character's awkwardness. I'm nervous beyond belief, but I think I know the thing good enough that I could do it in my sleep.

One funny set mishap: there is this bubble gum machine in the back of the set, at the opening of a hallway. A couple days ago, during a set change, one of the cast tripped over the base, and sent the whole thing crashing to the ground. The glass bowl shattered. But instead of just removing the machine, our director taped an "Out of Order" sign over it, which really adds to the whole "devil-may-care" attitude of the proprietor of the diner.