Humilidad

Empezaba èsta entrada en español.

It took me almost twenty minutes to write that sentence, and I still can't remember which alt-# combination it takes to make an ì.  I mean an ñ.  There it is.^

Back in August, I auditioñed for the eñsemble of Too Much Light Makes the Baby Go Bliñd, the longest ruññing show in Chicago.  The aftermath is well documented. 

I commented in an email:

"So there it is."

This past week, Barrel of Monkeys held annual auditions.  As they were only auditioning for Spanish speakers, minorities, and musiciañs, I did not participate.  Twenty-two local performers were cast.  Clearly, none of them are me. 

A friend commented in email:

"Maybe the universe is telling you to zig instead of zag."  

This past weekend, I spent 6 hours in Spanish conversation classes* classified as "intermediate."  I frequently had to ask the instructor to repeat himself.  I couldn't pronounce or remember the word "vegetariano."  I couldn't say such basic things as "never mind" and "either."

I commented under my breath:

Ay, Dios mio.  

Last year, a friend commented about a piece I'd written:

"Cleverness is great, but I think sometimes it's easy to use cleverness to cover up truth."  

Last month, a friend wrote into a performance piece:

"I believe being an actor means showing honesty and vulnerability on stage."

I said to myself:

"Maybe I am done with this."

I thought to myself:

"Scary." 

. . . 


Yesterday, I agreed to perform in the November installment of TV Reruns at Mary's Attic.

Yesterday, I began writing for a two-person performance in the winter.

Yesterday, I booked a performance with my esteemed colleagues "Tea, Jake, and Dave" for tomorrow night.  At 8 pm, I will be improvising a 10 minute solo piece at The Atlantic.  I haven't done that for at least four years.

Yesterday, I signed up for a December Spanish class considered "Advanced."

I'm saying to myself:

"What the hell am I doing?  Haven't I learned anything from my failure?'

Me estoy preguntando:

"¿De què tengo miedo?"

And I got that upside down question mark right on the first try.  Like this:

½

Oops.

Vulnerability, indeed.

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^ I now know what the NUM LOCK key on my keyboard is for. 

* Yes, I know.  The wonderful secrets about me just keep on coming as you peel away the e-layers!