Rehearsal let out early tonight, so I have time to write an update as reruns of The Office keep me amused in the background. Hooray!
My team won a second time at Theatresports last Friday, which means we’re returning again this Friday. My teammates did well, but it was a close call and I didn’t feel like I deserved to win… I let myself get psyched out again, something which hasn’t happened to me in quite a while now, and basically failed to contribute anything significant on stage. I took a class at the Seattle Festival of Improv back in February and was a bit shocked by a revelation that occurred there: the teacher had all 30 or so of us line up in order of the number of years we’ve been doing improv, and I was third from the front of the line… notwithstanding some considerable dry spells I’ve had, I’ve been improvising for about 10 years now. We’re all permitted to regress and make mistakes, especially in improv, but I’ve been doing this for so long; I’m pretty humbled by my ability to lose it all in an instant and suddenly behave as if it were my first time on stage. Hopefully this Friday will be better.
Saturday marks the five year anniversary of my arrival in the United States. I’m having a barbecue in the afternoon to celebrate, but don’t know what attendance is going to be like. If you read this blog and can make it, I’d love to have you! I’m a little nonplussed about the whole situation… it certainly doesn’t feel like I’ve been living on my own in a foreign country and doing that whole adult thing for five years now.
I was supposed to clean my condo this past weekend in preparation for it, but only got so far as cleaning the bathroom (itself by no means a small task). Gonna have to find time this week to finish the job… don’t quite know what hat I’m going to pull that rabbit out of.
In a similar vein of milestones, time passing, sunrise-sunset and the like, my parents just sold their house in Toronto. For many families this would be nothing special, but it has some significance to me… my parents spent over thirty years there… it’s the house I grew up in with them and my brother, the only home I’ve ever known in Toronto, and the place I’ve always listed as my “permanent” address. With me flown from the nest and my brother starting in assisted living, my parents are eager to move to a smaller place that’s less of a burden for them (my dad in particular has had nothing but grief maintaining it over three decades). They are far more sentimentally attached to the cottage, and from their vantage point I can hardly blame them, but it’s weird for me… I’ve always taken for granted that I have a lifetime of memories built up there (right back to the earliest I’ve got – I’m talking stuff like being held by my dad in a rocking chair while he sings “rock a bye baby” to me) that I can revisit anytime by going there, and now, well, I have only the memories. It’s not a big deal to me – it’s the memories that are important, after all, and not the place itself – but it’s another little stinging reminder of how quickly life is passing by.
It’s somewhat ironic that in getting the place ready for sale, my parents have had to overhaul the entire house to the point where it seems practically new. All of the old knob and tube wiring has been replaced, new floors installed (ancient carpets were pulled up from the upstairs only to reveal beautiful hardwood flooring underneath… who knew?), old basement rooms thick with dust and disuse now revitalized. My mom has said she actually wouldn’t mind staying, but my dad is determined to get out while the getting’s good.
Fiddler quickly approaches; I look forward to getting my evenings back when it opens. Things remain busy at work, but I’m enjoying it and I feel appreciated by them.
Life, it seems, carries on…
Dan.