Next installment in the Picnic adventure! Although these entries include a lot more than just Picnic.<\/p>\n
Part 1<\/a>. The audition 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<\/a>, 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.<\/p>\n But even saying that much is saying too much. For now: it’s Picnic<\/i> time … when I was rising up … into my own.<\/p>\n And it was HELL. But it was heaven, too.<\/p>\n 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.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n I’m not gonna get any<\/u> 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.<\/p>\n 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<\/u> – 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> – a huge deal in college theatre programs. THE huge deal in college programs.<\/i>] – 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<\/u> wanted to see. [Uhm … is Greece going anywhere?<\/i>]<\/p>\n I’m angry at everyone lately. Mrs. M is being unbelievably bitchy. School is hell. I hate<\/u> school. I hate going. Today is Friday and I praise the Lord. [hahahaha<\/i>] It’s pouring today. I’m tired and I wish I were — I wish — I don’t know what’s wrong.<\/p>\n Nothing<\/u> 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<\/u>.<\/p>\n Fuck, you have to ask<\/u> if you can go to the bathroom. A bell rings and automatically everyone gets up to leave. Why<\/u>? Why do we let a stupid bell tell us where to go — Oh, it’s so dumb! This is not life<\/u>. 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<\/i>] 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<\/u> minutes to eat your damn lunch – you have to cover your books<\/u> …”<\/p>\n I hate it here. I love the people, but God. I really hate it here.<\/p>\n 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>] I need sleep but when<\/u> will I ever get to sleep? I can’t see any chance until Picnic is over.<\/p>\n 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<\/a>.<\/i>]<\/p>\n 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.<\/p>\n 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<\/u>, too – not just mindless exercises. I have to write in my French journal …<\/p>\n 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>]<\/p>\n 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<\/u> for me, Diary.<\/p>\n 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<\/u> would be a conflict. [I can feel my torment in those underlines<\/i>]<\/p>\n Do you realize how crazy it was making me?<\/p>\n I didn’t know what to do.<\/p>\n 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?<\/p>\n 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.<\/p>\n I love Betsy so much. I want to be with her on the retreat.<\/p>\n 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>]<\/p>\n 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.”<\/p>\n 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<\/u> at yourself. Don’t do this to yourself. Nobody<\/u> 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<\/u> 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.<\/i>] 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<\/u> such a choice?<\/p>\n Oh Diary. I was crazy. I couldn’t stop the tears. I have never been so helpless against crying.<\/p>\n The bell rang. [Fucking bell!!<\/i>] 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.<\/p>\n When you reach the very end of the sky … that is how much I love my friends.<\/p>\n I headed down for Math. Crying in school makes me feel so much more exposed than anywhere else. [Uhm … YEAH.<\/i>] 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.<\/p>\n 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.<\/p>\n 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.<\/p>\n Well fuck the damn school.<\/p>\n Kate, without even knowing, held me – and let me get her shoulder all wet. I’ve never felt like I needed<\/u> 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.<\/p>\n 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.<\/p>\n 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.”<\/p>\n 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<\/u> me cry. I couldn’t have them see me<\/u>.<\/p>\n But God was with<\/u> 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.<\/p>\n 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<\/i>]<\/p>\n 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?”<\/p>\n 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.”<\/p>\n 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<\/u> will hate you for dropping out.”<\/p>\n 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.<\/p>\n Finally, I said, “I’ll still do caritas.”<\/p>\n 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.<\/p>\n 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.<\/p>\n 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.<\/p>\n 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.<\/p>\n 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<\/u>. 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.”<\/p>\n 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.<\/p>\n What a wonderful person she is to call me up. She probably called me right after she hung up with Betsy. She cares<\/u>.<\/p>\n I said to Mere, “I don’t want to feel like I’m letting down people …” and she said, “No<\/u> Sheila. Don’t<\/u>. Of course you haven’t let anyone down.”<\/p>\n 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.<\/p>\n And then on Tuesday it was testing day so I didn’t go to school and I slept. Boy, did I need it.<\/p>\n Monday was one hell of a day.<\/p>\n I still feel shell-shocked. A yawning cavern inside me. But boy do I feel relieved. I feel so much better.<\/p>\n 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.”<\/p>\n 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.<\/p>\n I don’t consider myself very lovable. [That slays my heart<\/i>]<\/p>\n But I want to love, and I want to show people my love. With Jay [he was the rector on MY retreat<\/i>] – he was almost not a human being. He was<\/u> the Spirit. The Spirit was<\/u> Him. He was the love of Jesus right there.<\/p>\n 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:<\/p>\n “Even if I knew certainly the world would end tomorrow, I would still plant an apple tree today.”<\/p>\n I’m home for about 2 hours. I just had rehearsal from 10 – 11:30. I have to be back at 2:00.<\/p>\n 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.<\/p>\n 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>] 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<\/u> 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”<\/i>]<\/p>\n 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.<\/p>\n 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.<\/p>\n I guess he’s having a Halloween party tonight.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" 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 … Continue reading
\nPart 2: <\/a> The callbacks, getting into the play
\nPart 3:<\/a> First meeting with the director
\nPart 4.<\/a> The calm before the storm … the time before rehearsals started … memorizing lines, etc.
\nPart 5. <\/a> Rehearsals start
\nPart 6. <\/a> Rehearsals. Stress building.
\nPart 7. <\/a> Crush with Brett intensifying. Finding my own way as an actress. Stress building.<\/p>\nOCTOBER 26<\/h3>\n
OCTOBER 27<\/h3>\n