Preaching the Shit out of Love

This is not going to be well written; it's almost midnight and I'm a tad hormonal. I just don't understand how it's the year 2013 and America is still discussing whether or not same-sex marriage is kosher (it's Passover, I had to). I don't know the facts and I don't know anything about politics, and I DO NOT UNDERSTAND. Correct me if I'm wrong: the Declaration of Independence states, "All men are created equal." "Equal" means...well...equal...right? And I just googled the Constitution on Wikipedia and it states that by putting the constitution in place, the American people are to be provided (a) justice, (b) civil peace, (c) common defense, (d) those things of a general welfare that they could not provide themselves, and (e) freedom. A government of "liberty and union, now and forever." "Liberty and union, now and forever" means...well...liberty and union, now and forever, right? RIGHT? Why is America not practicing what it so clearly preaches? WHY?? It's right there, in black and white, no? Am I missing something? Tell me if I am because it's driving me insane (you don't believe me? I'm up writing a blog entry after midnight on a school night). Unless I'm mistaken, taking away someone's right to marry means taking away the same choices that the majority of Americans are allowed to make, which means that there is a lack of that "equal" and "liberty" stuff, which means it goes against the American constitution, so...why the fuck is our government still discussing it?!

You know what really bugs me? These Justices (is that what the're called?) are, I'm assuming, some of the most educated people in America. Why aren't they all like, "why the fuck are we discussing this?" Because I'm definitely not more learned than they, and if I were a Justice and was asked to make a decision about same-sex marriage, I'd be like, "why the fuck are we discussing this they are American human beings which makes them exactly the same as every other American human being so of course they should fucking be allowed to get married I can't believe I had to get out of bed at 5am for this shit just fucking let them live like everyone else and do it now so that I can get the fuck out of this stuffy room and go have a cup of tea." These Justices are supposed to be setting an example for the rest of the country, not faffing about over basic human rights.

I don't even know what the arguments against same-sex marriage are. Is it because it's un-constitutional? Because that idea is just wrong and shouldn't be up for debate. "We the people" includes every single American that walks the Earth. "We the people" is colorblind, class-blind, sex-blind, and so why should it be anything but sexual preference blind, as well?  Is it because it goes against what the bible says is right? So what? So does gluttony, and I practice that daily and no one is debating over my right to be glutinous. And the very notion of freedom declares that we have a right to choose to believe in God and the Bible or not, so how dare anyone have the right to infringe legally on others' beliefs or non-beliefs. Is it because it is a bad example for kids? I mean...do I need to write down examples of kids born into marriages of a mother and father who ended up severely fucked up and/or caused mass destruction and/or committed mass murders? Just as growing up with one mother and one father does not guarantee the healthy mind of a child, growing up with two fathers or two mothers does not guarantee the unhealthy mind of a child. Is it because, if your neighbours happen to be a same-sex couple and they get married, they will cause your family unhappiness? That's bullshit. Junior high "she has braces so we can't let her sit at our lunch table or she'll make us all unpopular" kind of bullshit. First of all, happiness is a choice that comes from within. If you're unhappy, you should work on not being unhappy instead of wasting time judging other people. Second of all, I'm pretty certain that that same-sex couple who just got married down the road are far too obsessed with each other to give a shit about you and your family.

The idea that not everyone in the United States of America in the year 2013 does not have the right to marry the person of their choosing is preposterous and I am ashamed on behalf of the people of this country who do not view it as so. This is not an argument about the bible or who makes who feel uncomfortable or who is gay, straight, into black men, or into Asian chicks. It's about whether the American people agree that every single American has the right to make the same choices as everyone else, regardless of sexual preference. Why are we even discussing this? Why am I writing a blog about it? Because I believe in love and choice and freedom for ALL and showing those kids that I work with on a daily basis that the most important things in any relationship, friendship or otherwise, are love, kindness and mutual respect. With all those things, how can there be anything but happiness? I feel lucky to be the sort of person whose FB feed turned red today. History does change. History is changing. I wish for the generations that come after us to look upon ours and see that we chose unconditional love for each other and in the way we raised our children. So let's fucking make it happen so that I can stop swearing.

Scootering on the Edge of...[Fill in the Blank]

My last blog entry, which you can read HERE was written in Dec 2012 and about the moment I found out that I was going to be on Broadway. It is now March 2013. In the time that has passed, I have learned to do the following: ride a scooter, jump onto a vault on one foot and forward roll off it, communicate with different types of children, communicate with different types of adults, speak in a Welsh accent (this is still a work-in-progress), tie a tie (badly), and stay calm when stuck in an elevator with 5 people at a time when I'm supposed to be leading a rehearsal. I have not learned how to stay calm under the pressure of the possibility of being thrown into a scooter dance track that I have never rehearsed, how to churn out 11 dance tracks out of memory, how to stay focused at full attention during every second of a 12 hour working day, or how to physically be in two (or three) places at the same time. This is also a work-in-progress. I live in a constant state of anxiety that I'm afraid the gratitude I have does not quash. I am anxious of hurting myself. I am anxious of hurting someone else. And I am anxious of, Lord forbid, hurting a child when that child is my responsibility. My position might be better served by someone with a calmer and cooler disposition by nature. Well, too bad, they got me, and I fight every day not to let myself be overwhelmed by a series of "what ifs," a one sided dialogue that cycles around in my brain like tiny termites on tiny scooters, eating away at my confidence, patience, and at the very worst, my humour. Because, if my insecurities stall me from laughing at any given situation, then it's bad news.

"Won't you be bored?" many people asked me when I told them I would be a Swing. At the time, I was too freaking excited to let such notions dampen my spirits. Now, I say emphatically, nay, EXASPERATEDLY, that I am TOO FREAKING BUSY AND ANXIOUS TO BE BORED. I spent the better part of the shows this week writing out cheat sheets for the Swing kids. Should they be thrown into one of their tracks at the last second, we need them to be overly prepared. So, I sat in my dressing room hunched over my notepad writing out examination question and answer forms to give them. I don't have cramps in my body from dancing, but I have cramps in my hand from writing. Go figure! I have not held a pen without putting it down for this long since I was in boarding school and writing essays out by hand (because in those days, teenagers didn't study via computer and google, but via pen, paper, and the library). You, my dear reader, will either find it fascinating or eye-roll inducing that my astrologer told me a couple of years ago that I could make a decent living working with other people's children. Additionally, when I consulted her before I was offered Matilda, she asked me if I had auditioned for a big sister role because my chart showed alot of big sister energy. Ladies and gents, I had absolutely no idea that there would be a children's dance captain on the show, let alone know that I was being considered for it. I would have never ever pegged myself as someone who would work so closely with kids. And yet, it is determined by the stars and things happen in ways in which you never imagine. These kids look at me during warm-ups like I'm in charge, and when they ask me questions, they really believe that I have all the answers, when the truth is I don't have all the answers, and I don't know if I ever will. But, by the stars, I will go and find the answers for them. By the stars, they will not be underprepared. I know this because they have been drilled within an inch of their (and my) lives by an intrepid dance team made up of a couple women whom I wish I was as tireless as. I am so not tireless. All I want to do sometimes is crawl into a little warm space and drink some carefully steeped oolong and read a book on Taoism. 

Amidst the anxieties stated above, I get constant vomit inducing pangs of reminders every day that I am, in fact, first cover to a couple of the adult tracks. See, I forget. I hang out with the kids (and when I say "hang out," what I really mean is, "make sure they know exactly where they go to onstage when they're on a scooter, etc etc etc") and I forget that I'm actually an adult and need to know what I'm doing as an adult so that I can be ready to go onstage as an adult. The thought of this makes my armpits break out in a cold sweat. I am not cut out for this kid of pressure. I get so nervous that I can barely focus. In fact, I have no idea how I got this job, my nerves were so bad. As if being prone to awful nerves wasn't a pain in the butt enough, I go into work every day and face fears that I never thought in my darkest nightmares I would have to. The very first time I saw "gym session" scheduled, I assumed we'd be learning how to cartwheel (a skill I do not have), maybe learn how to do backwards walkovers (ditto). When I turned up to work and saw a trampette and a vault...well...all I can say is that I was lucky I was wearing a sleeveless top. It didn't help that every single one of the kids jumped onto the vault with absolute ease, putting me to shame. It's fine, I feel too anxious to feel any embarrassment. Then I remember that I have to work on the salsa section that the adults do, and I think to myself, "F this vault shit, I gotta go salsa!" 

And so it goes, round and round every day, like those scooters, around in one big circle of anxiety and aggravation and I cry sometimes and I laugh at myself for crying and pick myself up then I fall down again, and on and on and on, and during my day off which is not really a day off, I work on my taxes and do my 2 loads of laundry which takes like 3 hours per load and dance through the show in my living room which I have no idea is actually helpful, and I think that something has to give. Then I remember that I'm making my Broadway debut in a special and magical show; that I am in the middle of living inside the biggest dream I ever had, and I think, "Celia, of course this isn't EASY! When is anything you REALLY want ever EASY?!" And I remember that I almost don't remember what boredom feels like because, since starting this process in the beginning of December last year, among the many things that I have felt, boredom is not one of them. 

I guess you want to know if Broadway is everything I thought it would be. The answer is, No. I didn't expect it to be this hard, or all-consuming, or that I'd have to do anything but sing, act, and dance. But, if you believe in the stars, as I do, then you believe that what's meant for you won't pass you by. I am meant for it, and it is meant for me, and there are moments between the anxiety that I feel like the luckiest (and, at tiny, fleeting moments, bravest) woman in the world. I welcome it all with open arms, mind, and heart, but, let me tell you: anxiety and hard work is one thing, however, if I end up with my first strand of gray hair or WRINKLES because of this job, I will pick up a scooter and throw it out the window, just as Miss Trunchbull did to little Julius Rottwinkle.