So, I haven't been keeping up with this in a while. Basically, I'm juggling way too much crap. In fact, I made an important decision last week. I stopped going to Cold Tofu lab.
A couple months ago, our lab class was told we would get to do this once-a-year lab members performance on a nice stage at the Japanese American National Museum. It's the same annual show that I went to last year and signed up, on the spot, for the beginning class.
Naturally, I thought this was a great story. Here I was, three levels and one lab class later, about to perform in the same show I had been an audience member of a year earlier. I felt a sense of accomplishment. Triumphant, if you will. And so I proceeded to advertise this show to everyone I knew. I even told family members about it, and they're way far away.
About a week before the show, I was told that I wouldn't be in the show. Why? Well, the official explanation is that there weren't enough women in the class, so they had to limit the number of men. The other reason is that I had already done a "show" in 2006, which was the stupid 10-minute warmup our lab class sometimes does before Cold Tofu's regular monthly show.
But those 10-minute shows are hardly worth inviting people to watch, so I never do. I have friends who want to see me perform, but I want to make it worth it for them to make a 40-minute drive to Little Tokyo.
My first reaction was shock, then anger, and then my usual Bruce Lee/JKD-induced reaction: KICK THEIR ASSES! Well, not really. But I wanted to just shoot from the hip and call them and give them a piece of my frickin' mind. I mean, I told frickin' 300 people I would be performing. THEY told me I would be performing. What the hell???!!!
But lately I've noticed that going with that first gut reaction isn't always the best practice. Call it maturity, okay? This time, I sat down, had a shot of vodka, had another shot of vodka, took a drag off a cig, and then politely emailed them that I would have some explaining to do to my friends and family. But I let them know I wasn't pleased with it.
I then put my iTunes on random and the first two songs that came on were from the musical SPAMALOT. The second song to play started out "Always look on the bright side of life..." and instantly a smile came to my face. I even whistled along for a while. This, along with the vodka and nicotine, helped me to deal with a major disappointment. And so I proceeded to email every friend and family member whom I thought would come to the show that I would no longer be in the show...but thank you for your support and love, etc., etc.
The cool thing was that I received some of the most supportive, understanding emails from every one of them. I couldn't believe it. It was truly touching, and I will forever remember that moment. One friend even said that it was like I didn't even have to perform to find out who my biggest supporters were. That's true! And besides, I really could've sucked that night. So maybe I dodged a bullet on this one.
Anyway, a few days later, I went to our regular Wednesday night class. We did our exercises, scenes, routines and whatnot, and the decision came to me strong and fast: I need to leave this group.
But I'm glad I waited to think about it first. It's like a samurai (yeah, I still fantasize about being one) who won't strike someone when he's angry. He'll wait 'til he's feeling sorta Zen, and then he'll kill the muthafuckin' asshole...