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Depressingly Familiar

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It’s the week of my FronteraFest show and everything is going according to plan. I had my tech rehearsal last night and came away from it feeling awful. Weak script, weak performance, everyone else is better than me, blah blah. I think my predictability is one of my stronger characteristics. The tech rehearsals for FronteraFest are always very no-nonsense, they’re run according to a pretty strict schedule and format and there’s no time for fluffyness. If I was still British this would be fine, but as a hybrid American I missed all the fake enthusiasm. If someone had high-fived me last night I would probably have reciprocated, even though I’d just sort of clip their hand because I don’t have the right gene for that kind of thing.

At the end of it, my friend Kate did manage a ‘that was great’ but it wasn’t enough to curb my sense of impending failure and my ego had to drag her out for coffee so she could be a bit more specific on exactly what was great. I wish I’d written this as a comedy, with a dog, FronteraFest audiences love comedy dogs and it all felt a bit too downbeat last night. I miss the 10 minute version that I did at Fresno last year.

The rain isn’t helping, not that I ever find rain particularly helpful, but I’m in a generally crappy mood. Tonight I have an acting class so I can learn how to go auditions and be a more authentic donkey/duck/ supermodel

This class is all about embracing your creativity and liking yourself and all that nonsense and our assignment from the first week’s class was to write a letter to yourself, or from God about how proud you/He is of all the things you’ve done and overcome. God and I aren’t in regular contact so I’m writing it from myself. I started the letter the day after class when I was feeling all fluffy and charitable but I didn’t finish it and it’s due tonight. In this current mood of self-loathing it won’t be easy, I foresee everyone else in the class having amazing stories of adversity and triumph of the human spirit. What will I write? Well I’m proud of overcoming my comfortable middle-class childhood and that traumatic move to the States with my adorable husband where I enjoy an even more comfortable life because I don’t have to work in an office. Wow, tough break Maggie.

My friend Kate suggested I lie, which is probably why we’re such good friends. I think she may be right, an active imagination is surely all part of being a great actor.

“Dear Maggie, being born with a tail was just the beginning of your life of hardship and humiliation and was certainly the cause of much teasing in the orphanage for abandoned bastards.”