personal boundaries

The flowing is not theatre related:

You know how some cars have alarms that are very sensitive, where you just have to touch the car, and the car’s like BRAAAP BRAAAP BRAAAP no matter the time of day? 

I have that, but the alarm is on the inside.

Sometimes it’s no problem. Select people have access to the “alarm off” button. But not everyone. And sometimes I am trapped for hours, listening to the wail of my personal boundaries alarm going off. 

BRAAAP BRAAP BRAAP BRAAP BRAAP BRAAP BRAAP

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Community-Cast Theatre = All the Feels

A while ago I was working on a project that cast people with disabilities; in fact, the entire cast was from the community. It was a very rewarding experience, I must say. It is absolutely lovely watching people learn and develop; to take their fears and grow past them.

One of my particularly favourite moments was when one of the cast members, who struggles a little with verbal communication (she excels at facial expressions and gestures) was having a bad day. Sometimes when it’s too hot, or we all had a long week, it’s hard to focus. For sure. I am no stranger to heat-lethargy. This was one of those days. That being said, we had rehearsal, and I felt like while I would have loved to give everyone the day off, we had to keep going. At the end of the day, however, she B-lined to me.

“Thank you,” she said.

“Thank you?” I was surprised. Did I mishear?

“Yes, thank you.” And she gave me a really warm hug.

I can honestly say that is a highlight in my stage management career. What a cutie!

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Q-Lab & Endgame Emily

Q-LAB IS MY BITCH.

Do not underestimate the joy I get from facing a weird tech problem and then OWNING THE HECK OUT OF IT.

#yass


Sometimes I get bothered when I pitch in for other jobs that aren’t my own (cue bratty voice “it’s not in my contract“), but then I go:
Hold up wait, this is part of your life goal. You, Emily, want to be able to say you’ve done all of it. Tried every path the performing arts has. Learn everything that there is to learn, and keep learning when things change. Yeah so this thing will take you time now, but guess what, you’ll come out on the other side having learned something. More importantly, you’ve taken another step towards your goal for Endgame Emily. Bonus!


Endgame Emily is what I call me on my deathbed, more or less. Endgame Emily is at the end of her life, and gets to look back at whatever craziness has transpired for her. She is my future. I hope to do well by her. I sometimes wonder if detaching myself by calling her a separate person is making my mortality more manageable. Or, really, what I think is more accurate, is I know who I am now will not be who I am forever. I am a human who will change and grow and develop like most other humans, and endgame Emily won’t be me. She will have grown from me, but will not be me as who I am now. Get it?


Thanks all for reading this craziness.

Much love, much happiness!

Stay safe!

-Em

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Emily the IT Woman

A lot of my job this week has been teaching other people how to use their computers. Some of the information I pass on (because I am not a mac user, and they ask mac questions) I get by googling the question, and finding an answer.

So far this week:

  • How to send a music file
  • How to use the search function of your computer
  • How to import a file
  • How to save as a PDF
  • How to attach a file on an email

“Can you please send me your music?”
“How do you do that?”

And they are not the first person this week to ask me that question.

I’m not so much complaining (sort of, since I have a lot to do and LONG DISTANCE teaching people how to work their computers takes time) as expressing confusion.

I understood when one of my actors, a 72 year old man, was struggling with his iPad. Cool. You’re 72 and iPads are weird. (That being said, I know a 92 year old woman who no problem uses her iPad; however, she mostly uses it to share photos of her family with people). But the art industry is moving forward, technology is moving forward; how do people work without having ever attached a file to email? Where even do they get their music to practice from in the first place? I’m so confused.

I can’t be too mad. I just want things to go smoothly. It’s hard to stare a really tight deadline in the face, and be held back by forces out of my control.

I WOULD LIKE TO POINT OUT
MY WHOLE JOB
IS TO WORRY
I GET PAID
TO WORRY
BUT TO BE AS CALM AS FUCK
ON THE OUTSIDE
AND KICK BUTT WHEN I MUST

So here’s to good fortune and broken legs.

-Em

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Theatre Production Wardrobe

Tomorrow: 5h of very sweaty heavy labour, two hours of being stanky in downtown Vancouver, and then headed to a nice clean office setting.

Being in theatre production, I am both sides. That’s why wardrobes are impossible for me.

My “work” clothes for years (as a production student) were comfy, plain black clothes–whether I was studying for a test or loading a truck or creating schedules. Then, suddenly, I’m surrounded by blouses and blazers, trying my bestest to fit in between my sweat pants and visi-vests.

There is no going home and showering for me, none of that. I am going to bring a change of clothes, but that won’t solve my hairdo. Sometimes I get grease on my neck and it stays there until a proper scrubbing. And there’s a self-consciousness that arises from being the recently-laboured one surrounded by cleaner people. These cleaner people could be strangers in the city, in a meeting, or on my commute home. Sometimes these clean people are me. And we all know how uncomfortable it is to sit among the less hygienic. Like, yes, please, with your last-year’s-morning-breath, please continue to sigh heavily in my direction, oh yes that walk-of-shame once beer-drenched shirt of yours is my favourite, please snuggle up to me my friend, LET ME BASK IN YOUR FUMES.

So, I am wholly sorry for being that human tomorrow.

I’m pretty okay on the stank-o-meter — unless I am highly stressed, then I make some crazy stress smell that FURTHER stresses me out and it’s a cycle okay that’s why I bought the fancy lavender antiperspirant because that vegan bullshit leaves me smellier than I was in the first place — so I am not too worried, but I’ll be lugging in a change of clothes, a hard hat, and steal toed boots into a nice meeting space.

Tee hee hee

And it doesn’t help that I am terrible at personal fashion. Ha ha sigh. I actually get HIGHLY stressed just planning sophisticated, put-together outfit. I mean the words “office casual” will actually end my life and I will attend these meetings/events as a resurrected zombie ghost that is a fragment of my preferred tomboy-in-lipstick-and-grandpa’s-jacket aesthetic self.

Nothing makes me more confident than looking like a grunge princess with a side of cute. I want to look like I could kill you if I had to, but you’d let me because I am so hella cute, that it would be like being murdered by a small kitten in a bow.

I MEAN
REALLY
THIS BLOG POST HAS FUCKING DEGRADED HAS IT NOT?

DEAR LORD

E OUT, LOSERS
(jk. much love, friends)

-Em

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