A Christmas Gift
not even drunk Santas could ruin it!
My fellow Long Climbers, I am done. I am so done with this fucking year. I have nothing left in the tank. I’m all out. I am going to recharge my battery, big time. Don’t worry - there will be PLENTY to yell about in January!
Before I fuck off for the rest of the calendar year, I’ll share with you some evidence that the world can still be a lovely place.
Last weekend was the workshop reading of my Boomerang Theatre commission play, Orphan Christmas. The night before our rehearsal/reading, one of our cast members emailed to inform us that Saturday, December 14th was the most dreaded of NYC events, and to allow ourselves extra time to get to the space.
Most dreaded? More dreaded than St. Patrick’s Day? Halloween?
Oh. Oh yes.
It was the day of SantaCon.
SantaCon, for those of you unfamiliar, is a day when a shitload of drunk, mostly white 20somethings descend upon NYC dressed as Santa (or Mrs. Claus or a Sexy Elf, as the ladies are want to do). It is a day New Yorkers absolutely do not leave the house unless we have to. If your city doesn’t have a SantaCon, you may ask why that is. I’d like you to imagine the worst frat party on earth. Add Santa costumes. This all happens in the streets of the city and at the bars, starting around Penn Station (of course) and winding up in the East Village. SantaCon had gotten SO bad in years past that a good chunk of our beloved bars and dining establishments put up signs to keep them out:
Worse - our space was on West 36th between 8th and 9th. This is quite literally SantaCon Ground Zero. Penn Station and the surrounding area is where they all arrive and begin their bar crawl, which eventually winds up downtown.
In years past, I think it would have made me panic and overthink. We were going to have a small audience as it was, since we were competing with holiday parties and etc. What if no one came? What if I got molested? What if someone puked on my shoes? What if there was a violent mob of MAGA Santas? What if I couldn’t get home?
Instead, I started laughing. Of course I’d have a play reading on fucking SantaCon. OF COURSE I WOULD. With my cursed history of Christmas, it was both horrifying and hilarious at the same time. I texted all my NYC friends, who of course responded with versions of “oh god” and “thoughts and prayers”. Who knew what Horrors I would find when I took the subway to 34th Street?
Miraculously, my trek to rehearsal was not as terrible as it could have been. I did see a Santa vomiting, and his elfin girlfriend who was trying to help him wound up vomiting too. It was 1:47 pm. Amateurs. But other than that, it was crowded, and visually unpleasant, but I made it to the space on time. I took a little video of the scene on my way.
The rehearsal room is my favorite thing on earth. I’d rather be in rehearsal for a mediocre play than watch a mediocre play. In the room, I am the best version of myself. I do not toot my own horn often, but I am known for being very good at on-the-fly rewrites. The writing I do alone at my desk is the least important part. Rehearsal is where I shine. Rehearsal is where the actual writing happens.This is my first time doing this medicated, and let me tell you, it has made me absolutely lethal. I don’t have to fight with my emotions. I can be decisive and precise.
My director Scott, who has known me for twenty years, lets me do my thing. When a problem came up in a scene, I listened to what the actors had to say. I love working with smart actors, especially ones who do new play development. They have a different perspective. They have to embody this character that I wrote, and my job in the room is to make sure they can do that to the very best of their ability.
Once I figured out the problem, I had to go and fix it. I tend to not bring my laptop into the room. It’s a distraction for me. I do all my rewriting by hand on my script or in my journal, and then put the changes in later based on that and my notes. I was feeling a little overstimulated, so I shut myself in a small room, put my noise cancelling headphones on, and wrote an entire page of dialogue long hand in my notebook in less than twenty minutes. I dictated it to the actors, and as usual, I read way too fast and had to slow down so they could write it all down.
When we read through the scene, it clicked. I said, “Okay. I think that works”. My friend Jordan - a brilliant actor who has worked with me on multiple projects - just smiled at me and shook his head. He knows how I roll.
The scene was way better. Everything was working. It’s a magical moment in the room that I can never get enough of. It gave me a boost of confidence that I sorely needed. It’s been a long time since I had a rehearsal process on a new play, and there was a little part of me that worried I’d lost my edge. I haven’t.
When we opened the house for the reading, I was thrilled to see a room full of friendly faces. My friend Ria from college - who I haven’t seen in at least ten years - came to the reading. She said she was going to come, but given that it was 25 degrees out and Drunk Santas were roaming the streets, I’d have completely understood if she bailed. My husband was there, which made me happy, since my last three shows were out of town and he didn’t get to see any of them because of work. Other folks came too, and many of them I hadn’t seen in a while.
The play is about a group of chosen family having their first Christmas together since the pandemic (December 2022). It’s a comedy, but because it’s me, it has some heavy emotional moments. Christmas is the exact right vehicle for this kind of story. This one was for everyone who struggled to go back to “normal”.
The reading went well. I felt that thing - that thing I’ve missed so much! - which is the satisfaction of watching your play take its first steps into the world. The best part is that I was able to just watch my play. I wasn’t struggling to focus while the nerves and the self-criticism took over. I was able to enjoy it. Granted, it’s easier to enjoy it when it’s going well, but I really had a good time.
Ria told me she loved the play and was proud of me, which meant so much to me. There’s something to be said for reconnecting with a person who knew you before you were YOU, in all your messy glory, and having them understand what it took to get where you are today. We were cracking each other up reminiscing over our acting days (both of us still work in theater, but we don’t act anymore).
The thing that really hit me as my husband and I grabbed a celebratory tipple in Queens after the show was how much it energized me to be in a room with other humans. I’ve had to spend a lot of time isolating and healing. I said no to a lot of social obligations. I’ve spent nearly two years just building my stamina back. It has been hard, painful work.
This couldn’t have come at a better moment. I was exhausted afterwards, but I was gratified and energized too. I’m finally ready to work again. I am ready to get off the phone/laptop, sit in a room, watch other humans, and make stories. As an industry, theater is a nightmare and no one makes any money and it’s hard and brutal and full of rejection. But there’s nothing on earth like it. It requires the flesh and blood presence of human beings to exist. That’s not a small thing. Especially now. I don’t want to live my whole life behind a screen.
I am so grateful for this community. I got my confidence back not in small part because of Substack, and the people who responded to my writing. It was hard to put myself back out there. But I’m so glad that I did.
I wish every single one of you a peaceful holiday season. Note that I don’t say joyous, or merry. I say peaceful. We all need to find our peace where we can. We have a long, hard road up ahead. We just need to get through the rest of this year. We can do it.
I listen to this song around this time every year. Dance to it with abandon. Or just take a nap. Whatever works.
We are gonna make it through this year if it kills us.
I love rehearsals. I never ever feel the same way about attending a performance… rehearsal is where the real juju lives.
Thank you for sharing this story! and I also wish you nothing but peace until we make it to January. ❤️