Typing with my thumbs post of the day
Just sitting here at this shoot with my legs crossed, staring at the confetti scattered on the venue’s gaudy-but-could-be-gaudier carpets. The playlist this morning has been bizarre but enjoyable, from Thomas Newman scores to Death Cab to Radiohead, and now, as “Reckoner” plays above me I’m reminded of that one night in Austin when my neighbor and I had ~20 people over to her apartment to listen to “In Rainbows” in its entirety. We drank wine and lit candles and didn’t speak and yes, it was planned as a joke, but I was more than a little moved when “Reckoner” started playing, so what? Among all the emotional reactions I’ve had to popular entertainment, that’s one of the least embarrassing. The room is filling with fog being blown in from the noisy machine in the corner. It’s the familiar smell of high school theatre, and I’m back in the wings peeking at the audience and looking for my friends and whispering insults about that one bitch or that one asshole (whatever their names were) and waiting for my cue and forgetting my lines and running silently to the script in the corner (heel toe heel toe heel toe) and remembering my lines with seconds to spare and do NOT give me that attitude, techie, and thinking, “I never want this to end,” but not really meaning it and I wonder what happened to my International Thespian Society membership card.