Diary Friday

Next installment in the Picnic adventure! Although these entries include a lot more than just Picnic.

Part 1. The audition
Part 2: The callbacks, getting into the play
Part 3: First meeting with the director
Part 4. The calm before the storm … the time before rehearsals started … memorizing lines, etc.
Part 5. Rehearsals start
Part 6. Rehearsals. Stress building.
Part 7. Crush with Brett intensifying. Finding my own way as an actress. Stress building.

David and I had a long long talk the other night about all of this. Yes. We sat at a bar and drank beer and talked like crazy about Diary Friday. I love this man so much. God. Darkness and light … faith and doubt … innocence and cynicism … the polar opposites of the world all running through my life at that time. In a matter of months, the girl who writes these innocent excited pages would be gone. A new girl emerged … but she was so different, so chastened by the experience, so cautious. It took her years to recover. And that process is still going on, trying to make things right … so wrong did everything eventually go back then. But I won’t cover that in Diary Friday. I learned my lesson my first time with Diary Friday – before I took the year long hiatus with the whole thing. Keep the diary entries light. Don’t summon the ghosts, you hear?? But I can’t help it: those ghosts hover over these pages anyway. The girl who wrote these words didn’t know what was coming, didn’t know that her days are numbered.

But even saying that much is saying too much. For now: it’s Picnic time … when I was rising up … into my own.

And it was HELL. But it was heaven, too.

One of the best things about doing this Diary Friday thing is that I realize, again and again, how lucky I am to have the friends I do. That, when I post these journal entries, the majority of the people I mention are STILL IN MY LIFE. Blessed. I am blessed.

OCTOBER 26

I’m not gonna get any sleep until this play is over. Every morning I swear to myself “I can NOT get out of bed.” I can’t sleep on weekends either cause I have rehearsal 10 to 5 each day. I am so tired. I am pale. I look like a zombie.

I have so much homework. I feel like everybody’s mad at me. I don’t know why. There is a possibility that over April vacation I may be going to Greece – Mere’s going too, and Erica, and Chris — I’m not even excited. If Picnic goes to Washington [the play was entered into the ACTF – a huge deal in college theatre programs. THE huge deal in college programs.] – we’d go in April so if it’s during the same time I won’t even sign up for Greece. But what if we don’t even go to Washigton. Then I’d miss probably my only chance to go to a country that I have always wanted to see. [Uhm … is Greece going anywhere?]

I’m angry at everyone lately. Mrs. M is being unbelievably bitchy. School is hell. I hate school. I hate going. Today is Friday and I praise the Lord. [hahahaha] It’s pouring today. I’m tired and I wish I were — I wish — I don’t know what’s wrong.

Nothing excites me while I’m in school. It’s all boring and pointless and the minute I get out I find out there’s so much to discover. There’s a LIFE outside of this prison. And that’s just what it is. A prison.

Fuck, you have to ask if you can go to the bathroom. A bell rings and automatically everyone gets up to leave. Why? Why do we let a stupid bell tell us where to go — Oh, it’s so dumb! This is not life. A few rehearsals ago, Liz [she played my mother in Picnic – she was 21 years old … and seemed completely mature and full-grown to me – we are still dear friends and I see her at least once a month] was saying, “While I was in high school, it seemed like forever, but now I’m 4 years out, and I can’t believe I lived that way. In one building from 8 to 2 – 20 minutes to eat your damn lunch – you have to cover your books …”

I hate it here. I love the people, but God. I really hate it here.

I’m exhausted. [Sorry, everyone. I know this is bleak. I was out of it, completely overwhelmed – which makes my later triumph that more poignant in retrospect – I don’t remember having THIS hard a time getting thru life when I was 16 … all I remember is the unbelievable glory of Picnic … but this is what I was acting out of, this was my life …] I need sleep but when will I ever get to sleep? I can’t see any chance until Picnic is over.

Let me try to talk about Monday. I have to — but I haven’t had the time. [Monday was October 22 … I couldn’t write about it.]

For the past few weeks, although I have been blabbing happily about rehearsals and Brett, I have so much else – I can’t believe how much I’m doing.

I kept thinking, “if only I could make out a schedule for myself for November …” But I can’t please everyone. I just can’t. I mean – every day after school I have Hans Christian rehearsals until 3:30. I get a ride home, do my homework, have dinner, go to rehearsal from 6:30 to 11:00 – I usually get home at 11:30. I still have leftover homework. Then on days I work it’s worse. I have to skip Hans Christian rehearsals, I work till 5. Walk home and get there at 5:30. I have a damn HOUR to do my pounds of homework, eat dinner. And I’m so tired. My homework is a lot, too – not just mindless exercises. I have to write in my French journal …

Diary – then there’s the retreat. [If you’ve been following, you know that I was chosen to be “on staff” for a religious retreat in November and was so so so excited about it.]

I was putting the retreat and Picnic at the top of my list and my life. Neither is more important to me. But from the start – I was worried. Rehearsals are mandatory. Retreat meetings are mandatory. When, on Saturday, I got the retreat schedule, there are only about 5 meetings, then the weekend of the retreat. My life was a blur. What I wanted to do was get all that time off from Picnic but that’s a lot to ask of ayone, and it was so hard for me, Diary.

You can’t believe how little I slept just constantly WORRYING about this. How was I supposed to decide? I wanted to be at both places but I just couldn’t. The only reason I could go to the meeting on Saturday was cause the all-day Picnic rehearsal was canceled. Otherwise every single other meeting would be a conflict. [I can feel my torment in those underlines]

Do you realize how crazy it was making me?

I didn’t know what to do.

When all this started I had this ideal that it would be somehow possible for me to do it all. But as it all really began, I started to feel helpless. I would say to myself, “Everything will somehow work out.” But the Saturday retreat meeting did it for me. I wanted to be able to go to them all. I love everyone there so much. And then that monumental job of caritas … You can’t just rush that, or do it in your spare time. I prayed a lot when I got home. I prayed to God to HELP. How would I do everything?

But then I thought – I’ll just talk to Kimber. But I didn’t want to miss rehearsals either. I’m not going to try to describe what I was feeling, because I will never forget it. Anguish — I don’t know — total despair.

I love Betsy so much. I want to be with her on the retreat.

So Monday morning, droopy Sheila comes into school. Diary, I mean it. The worries never let me alone. I felt sick all weekend. I was alone upstairs in the library before school. I was in deep deep despair. Deep. I kept trying to pray, but I wanted to settle it somehow right then, Monday morning. I realized that I would have to make a decision. I realized that I just couldn’t do it all. And I would have to choose between the two. It hit me, Diary. It hit me hard. Betsy came up to the library then. I was slumped against the lockers – she came over to me and said, “What is it?” [Betsy, my dear dear friend to this day, was my peer … but this retreat was set up so that the ‘rector’ of it was a high school student. It was a religious retreat for high school students, and Betsy was “rector” – lots of responsibility, it was her job to get the staff, make schedules, make it happen.]

I told her: “Every rehearsal coincides with every retreat meeting.” There was this silence and Betsy said, “Really?” I love her so much that I started crying and she put her arms around me. “Come on, let’s go into the library.”

Diary, for so long I have been convinced that it would all work out, but it wouldn’t. And once I started crying – I didn’t know what else to do. Betsy finally took hold of me – I was a wreck – and she said, “Sheila – you are gonna have to make a decision. Look at yourself. Don’t do this to yourself. Nobody will hate you if you drop it. How can you drop Picnic? You can’t! Sheila – it’s your life – it’s a great part – you aren’t letting anyone down. We have plenty of people on staff – Look at what this is doing to you! Just calm down – do your thinking later.” [Bets. I am speechless. If I didn’t thank you way back then for your words and your blessing … then I thank you now.] We sat down. Her kind gentle way made me cry even more. Not sobbing but tears kept streaming out of my eyes. I hardly noticed it. I could not by the grace of God stop. Everything crashed in. That was the first time I realized I’d have to make a choice. How to make such a choice?

Oh Diary. I was crazy. I couldn’t stop the tears. I have never been so helpless against crying.

The bell rang. [Fucking bell!!] Everyone being so gentle and loving with me made me feel even more full inside. That’s it. I was so full of emotion and feelings. I was so full that some had to show.

When you reach the very end of the sky … that is how much I love my friends.

I headed down for Math. Crying in school makes me feel so much more exposed than anywhere else. [Uhm … YEAH.] It’s so out of the ordinary – to be expressing a real deep honest feeling is unheard of there. So I went straight to the lav to calm dow. I splashed water on my face. My eyes were spouting hydrants. I had to cry. No other way to deal with it.

I came out – my eyes were bloodshot. These 2 girls were just glancing my way so I walked by, my head down. My, I was a mess. I still remember what it felt like to not be able to stop crying. Then I saw Kate coming down the hall towards me. The minute she saw my face, she stopped.

We stared at each other. She didn’t even know what was wrong. I covered my face with my hands, and after a minute, I felt her arms go around me tight – Oh Lord, I needed that – I clutched her back – I was crying so hard – IN SCHOOL. It was incredibly scary to be crying in school.

Well fuck the damn school.

Kate, without even knowing, held me – and let me get her shoulder all wet. I’ve never felt like I needed someone that way before. I was just clutching to her and crying. I didn’t even care what anyone thought. I wasn’t even thinking “Oh God, stop crying.” I didn’t want to stop. I couldn’t stop.

And I felt her love through that hug, squeezing me, letting me wrap my arms around her and hold on for dear life, in the middle of the hallway outside Math class.

The fucking bell that we blindly obey had just rung so Kate – who probably guessed – said, “Look, I’ll talk to you later” – still holding my hands. I nodded, standing there, wiping my face. Our classes are beside each other, so just as we both went in to our rooms, she said, “Sheila.” I looked down at her and she said one thing, “Trust.”

I went into my room tingling. I don’t know with what. Everyone immediately saw something was the matter. I just went to my desk and sat there, trying to keep back the tears that kept coming. During the moment of silence, I buried my head in my arms and prayed the hardest I’ve ever prayed. “Oh help me Lord, help me, help me …” I started to really cry then in my arms, and I felt panic – suffocation – this awful paralyzing fear of having people see me cry. I couldn’t have them see me.

But God was with me in that bland fucking mathroom. Oh boy could I feel Him. Oh Diary, He was RIGHT THERE – I kept pleading to the presence, “Help me, Jesus, please help me …” and I could feel him.

In Math I was no good to anybody but for the rest of the day I took Betsy’s advice. I ddin’t think anything, I didn’t confront anything – In fact, I acted happier than I have for a while. I had no idea what I was gonna do but I couldn’t think about it right then. [Hello, Scarlett O’Hara]

Right after school, I had a Hans Christian rehearsal. There was a retreat meeting that night from 7 to 9 – I also missed the one on Sunday night. As I started off for rehearsal, Betsy said, “Sheila, are you going?”

Time to confront. I said, “I don’t know, Betsy.” Then Betsy said, “Okay, Sheila. What are you gonna do?” She pulled me into a corner. We had a long talk. All day I’d been thinking, “I’ll be letting God down. I’m putting being in a PLAY over God. And I will disappoint Him.”

I said to Betsy, “But won’t God be disappointed?” And Betsy said, “Well, yes, He will – but Picnic is your chance. There will be other chances for you to be on staff. But there won’t be another Picnic. Nobody will hate you for dropping out.”

I still didn’t know. I couldn’t say yes — no — It was so hard. I love God, I love Jesus – How could I even think of putting a play over them? Betsy and I talked about all of this.

Finally, I said, “I’ll still do caritas.”

And Betsy looked at me and then we hugged for about 2 minutes. We talked with our arms around each other, and I told her how much I loved her. I started crying again.

Betsy is so wonderful. I feel sorry that I won’t be there to see her be Rector. Those candidates are so lucky to be getting her. They will never forget that weekend, they will never forget her.

For the rest of the day – during both my rehearsals and at home – I was truly in a state of shock. It would hit me suddenly: “I’m not on staff anymore. I’m not on staff – that I’ve been looking forward to since last year. I won’t be there with Kate and Betsy and Lisa. I won’t be doing the Masks speech.” All of these things made me feel very desolate, very empty.

But oh, what a load off me. I felt so much younger. Everything fell into place. I lost my hunched back. I could sleep again.

At home, I knelt and prayed to God – Actually, no. I didn’t pray. I just knelt and I waited. I don’t know what I was waiting for but I was waiting for Him to speak to me. Diary, I was waiting for myself to sense His letdown, His disappointment in me … But I didn’t sense that at all. All I felt was good. I knelt for so long letting Him flood me with goodness. Almost as though He were saying, “It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay. Of course I’m not let down by you. I love you.”

Meredith – who had been absent on Monday – called me the minute I got home. I guess Betsy had called to tell her what had happened. The first thing Mere said to me was, “How you doing, Sheila?” in a really tentative voice.

What a wonderful person she is to call me up. She probably called me right after she hung up with Betsy. She cares.

I said to Mere, “I don’t want to feel like I’m letting down people …” and she said, “No Sheila. Don’t. Of course you haven’t let anyone down.”

How many ways can you say “I love you”? Well, it doesn’t matter. I’m not trying to make this diary interesting or like a book. I love them. That’s all. Those words are good enough.

And then on Tuesday it was testing day so I didn’t go to school and I slept. Boy, did I need it.

Monday was one hell of a day.

I still feel shell-shocked. A yawning cavern inside me. But boy do I feel relieved. I feel so much better.

The retreat has to begin within you – one weekend doesn’t make a difference – if it’s in your heart, your soul. At the retreat meeting on Monday night, Kate told me they said about 3 prayers for me. Corrie – the spiritual director – said, “Let her know that there are other retreats, and that we all love her.”

I hope someday – even if it isn’t on a retreat – that I can be an instrument of God’s peace, to have someone find Him through me – or in me.

I don’t consider myself very lovable. [That slays my heart]

But I want to love, and I want to show people my love. With Jay [he was the rector on MY retreat] – he was almost not a human being. He was the Spirit. The Spirit was Him. He was the love of Jesus right there.

I found this wonderful quote that moved me so much I carry it with me everywhere. I read it to Kate in study and immediately both our heads went down on the table – I could barely get through reading it out loud:

“Even if I knew certainly the world would end tomorrow, I would still plant an apple tree today.”

OCTOBER 27

I’m home for about 2 hours. I just had rehearsal from 10 – 11:30. I have to be back at 2:00.

This morning’s rehearsal was just Millie, Madge, and Flo – the three of us are really working closely together. It’s terrific. We’re really getting into blocking too – we have platforms set up on the stage to represent the two houses with stairs – so it’s a lot easier to see.

At 2:00, I’m gonna have to smoke a cigarette. [The play opens with 16 year old Millie hiding around the side of the house, sneaking a cigarette that she has stashed underneath the porch] I don’t know why this is making me as nervous as it is. I suppose once I get the hang of it, it’ll be a cinch – but I’m just worried about the first time. I don’t want to make a fool out of myself, and barf all over the stage. [I think I was getting my information here from the ever-important historical document of the disastrous slumber party in “Grease”]

From 11:30 to 1:00 – Alan and Hal (Brett and Eric) are rehearsing, so at about 11:15 or so, I was perched backstage, watching Liz and Joanna go through a scene and Brett peeked his head in through a backstage door. I saw him and waved. He whispered, “Hi” and then disappeared.

At 11:30, Kimber called a break – where Brett and Eric started rehearsing. Michele gave us this week’s scheulde, so Liz, Joanna and I sat on the edge of the stage looking it over. Eric and Brett were there – and Brett came to sit with us.

I guess he’s having a Halloween party tonight.