I thought my hatred for these places came from the fact that I could never find clothes to fit me. But I've recently come to realize that actually, my hatred comes more from the atmosphere itself. The noises were too much, the lights too bright, the echoing of footsteps, the overstimulation and movement of everything around you. People in your way, in too close proximity to you. When I said I broke out into a sweat, I mean that literally.
That was always my number one complaint about living in NYC as well. Everything was just too much. And I either shut down or I feel like I could scream for hours. It makes me irritable and sensitive.
Now I'm not one to diagnose myself with anything. In fact, I've always found it silly when friends of mine would go on MD.com or something and soon freak themselves out because what was a tiny common cold has now turned into the bubonic plague in their eyes. That being said, KS was telling me about this thing called HSP, highly sensitive person, and the more I read about it, the more I see the similarities. I admit it, I took the personal test of 28 questions. It said if you checkmark at least fourteen of them then you could be highly sensitive. ...I checked 24.
Right.
But this would explain the way I've been feeling the past few days. I've not been sleeping well and I've had sharp headaches in the lower back of my skull a lot. This always heightens my irritability. And on top of that we spent the past two days in Edinburgh at the Fringe. Something I've always wanted to do and despite my mood, I had a really good time. But there were some rough patches.
Allow me to explain what it feels like.
You are sitting in a theatre during a discussion on something tedious and not well planned out. You are tired, so much so that you are a bit sick to your stomach. You should have eaten a bigger breakfast and a smaller coffee. It's warm in the room, stuffy. And people are getting situated in their seats. You roll your neck from side to side, feeling the tight pull of the muscles that are whinging from your effort. Beads of sweat are starting to form on your forehead and you slow down your breathing in order to try to calm yourself down.
One of the speakers clears his throat. It is a forced nervous sound that pings off of the walls. He does this before every sentence he says. ...he says a lot.
It's fine. It's totally fine.
Behind you someone is trying to be delicate with their backpack zipper. You understand that they are trying not to draw attention. You acknowledge that they are trying to be respectful. But the zipper and the rustling are now so magnified in your ears that it feels like it's in surround sound. JUST OPEN THE F*&KING BAG!!!
shhhhhhh. it's fine. It's totally fine.
The lady with the strange orange hair sitting diagonally in front of you pulls out a candy with a crinkly wrapper. She doesn't care who hears it. It crinkles. Slowly, she unwraps it. There's a pulsing happening behind your right eye. Like someone is knocking on a door that happens to be your eye socket. By now you've clenched your hands into balls and folded your arms tightly. Someone is smacking their gum in the row behind you. You can hear the saliva and chewing. Your whole body is one big ball of tension.
It's. Fine.
Oh God. The throat clearer is speaking again. Cough. Ahem. AHEM. COUGH. Your right hand is shaking. Stop being stupid. Why is it so hot in here? Why doesn't someone get him a glass of water. I need some aspirin. Focus on something else. Anything else. Take a deep breath. That's better.
COUGH.
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! Oh my GOD! MAKE IT STOP! SOMEONE MAKE IT STOP! (mentally you throw chairs, stomp on people's belongings, cry, scream, hold your hands over your ears, and what's more you are shaking with anger. Anger at everyone for being in your space. Anger at yourself for not being able to handle normal situations and for not being tolerant of people's ticks).
...
And yet, you never made a sound. You never moved. You may have sighed once or twice or slightly shifted in your chair. But you never did any of what your whole body and mind wanted to do. Instead, the talk session ends, and all anyone really notices is that Stacy is her normal irritable/reserved/at time, pain in the ass self.
And you don't remember a damn thing of that lecture.
_______
That little scene has happened about twice a day since Monday. It's embarrassing. Even though no one really sees it. It doesn't take much. The birds that caw outside my window non-stop all night. A popping of gum. A moment of indecision from someone. A sudden light change. It's ridiculous.
So I'm hoping with some solid sleep, I may be able to combat it a little more successfully than I've been doing. Because seriously...I'm going to lose friends this way. Or my mind.
ANYWAY!
Believe it or not, all that aside, I enjoyed a lot of the Fringe and I've always been a fan of Edinburgh. The first day felt a bit of a waste of time though in that we had two of those talk sessions and saw what may have been one of the worst pieces of theatre I've ever seen. Have any of you ever seen that 1990's film "She's all that" ? You know that scene where the lead guy performs this weird ass theatre piece? wait. I'll show you...
The other piece we saw was called The Idiot at the Wall. I know a lovely girl in it so I was pleased that we scored tickets. The piece itself was alright. There were holes in it and I'm not too sure about the direction. Apparently it was a two hour show and they cut it in half for the Fringe. It's a shame, I wish I had seen it in full length. But my friend was very very good in it. Such a beautiful presence and her vocal quality was perfect.
At the end of the first day I was knackered and a bit underwhelmed with it all. FM let me and LY stay at her flat for the night which is on Grassmarket st. I think that is my favorite area of Edinburgh. It has this small town street feel in the middle of a huge city. Great cafes and vintage shops, central to everything, and you can hear the pipeband tattoo going on in the castle nearby. We unwould over peppermind tea and a good chat. FM is like my little sister. I never thought I'd connect with her when I first met her. She is so much my opposite. But she has been an accidental sunshine in my days. And she's the best person to watch a show with. FM sees shows and movies through the eyes of a child. What she feels is written all over her face and if she is entertained or bored, you absolutely know it. She is hysterically funny but doesn't always know it. And though she lives in a different world and often on a different wave length than me, she is a kind and gentle hearted person who just wants to be loved. ...and to be on Downton Abbey. ...and to own as many animals as possible. She's wonderful. I hope she gets her own reality television show someday. I know I'd watch it.
The second day of the Fringe was MUCH better. I had a bit of sleep but still felt a bit volatile. Luckily there were no more lectures to go to. Only many a show. The first was a full scots music show based off of a Robert Burns poem "Tam O'shanter". I LOVED it. And I was proud to say I understood 75% of what they were saying. Which is far better than where I was a year ago.
Halfway through the show it made me so sad that I won't be around this anymore. There's something so beautiful about the tradition, pride, sensitivity, and boozy-ness of the Scottish people. I love how they can be crass and rambunctious one minute and break your heart the next. There was one song, (one of FM's favorite and now one of mine) which of course I can't remember the name of now but had something to do with "heelin' john" or something. It was so beautiful. UPDATE: I have since been told it is called "John Highland Man." Mystery solved.
The second show was at the Underbelly and it was called Static. Definitely up there as one of my favorite pieces. It had a really solid cast, great music and projections, and the physical movement used was really well done. It was a piece that could have easily been platform/soapbox god awful. But instead it was a bit edgy, engaging, and completely entertaining.
The third show was a double header. Two short forty-five minute pieces. One by David Greig. Which I enjoyed. The ending was so-so. The writing was solid though I wasn't too sure about the direction. And it made me wonder if both pieces were directed by the same person because their speech patterns were the same. If you've ever seen Gilmore Girls, it was sort of like that. Which is fine. But not for both pieces. The theatre itself was a gorgeous large space at the Traverse.
The second piece...well...I didn't really care for it to be honest. Except for the rather attractive lead guy who managed to have a scene where he was completely butt naked. I dunno. I guess there's something about a Fringe show that makes your clothes come off...
But that's fine. It distracted me from the hideous schmacting that the other character was doing. Oof.
Finally, the last show I went to was Mark Thomas' Bravo Figaro. A sort of mix between a stand-up comedy, life story telling, laughter through tears, truth spewing goodness... it was just fantastic. I loved it. It's exactly the type theatre I enjoy. Honest. Great timing. Great jokes. Great pain. Just. Great. And though I was SOOO incredibly tired by then, that show kept me focused and engaged. Wonderful.
Today we were back to rehearsals on The Special. I had a few HSP moments (we'll call them that even though the proper medical term would be toddler-tantrum-totallus). But we ran the show three times with each run having a different focus. We tweaked objectives, worked on pace, integrated some props. We are slowly trucking along. I also had a tiny meeting with the costume designer. ...yeah, it's a work in progress. Stay tuned for photos from the show. It'll be something I'm sure.
Speaking of photos, KS took some time to take some new headshots for me. I think they turned out quite well and now it's a matter of narrowing them down. I think my top two are these ones (not touched up yet):
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Alright. I think that's plenty long for an entry. To be continued...
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