"What is history? An echo of the past in the future; a reflex from the future on the past”

 

I'm already kind of frazzled and burnt out for the summer. I think working the Children's Festival on top of being in a play is what has killed me. Hopefully a three day weekend will help me reset. I'm on two wait-lists for graduate school (one officially informed me, the other I'm just assuming since they haven't sent me a rejection notice yet). I had phone interviews for a theatre in Michigan and in Philadelphia. The one in Philadelphia asked me to go speak to them in person so I'm off to do that in about a week and a half!

Sometimes I wonder if it's a mistake to try and make a career out of something that I love so much. Will it be just 'work' if I do that? I'm burnt out now, what will it be like when I'm doing it 'for real', so to speak?

***

And then I wonder if I'm turning into the very things I hate. Sitting at a cubical, pushing paper and numbers around in circles. I may be good at this stuff but I don't particularly care for it.

***

Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket

Never let it fade away

Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket

Save it for a rainy day

For love may come and tap you on the shoulder some starless night

Just in case you feel you want to hold her

You'll have a pocketful of starlight

(Pocketful of starlight, hm,hm,hm,hm,hm,hm)

That's been stuck in my head. I finished LOST (well, up to the latest season) and a character sings it a little. If you've never watched the show - it's something interesting and addicting, certainly. LOST was also a mode of spending time with a friend I thought I, erm, lost.

"She gave me an ultimatum earlier that day...or at least strongly hinted to one. Be friends with you or chance losing her. Obvious what I chose... So I killed a friendship with someone...to be betrayed in the end, by the person who deemed it necessary...We always wind up with each other. Maybe not romantically, maybe not solidly...but we've both made some pretty wild detours...and here we remain."

I need more friends like this. More emails from people just saying 'let's just fix it and be friends, because it's worth it'.

I need people. Not any one person specifically (multitudes of specific people, actually)... just the ones I've asked to share a bit of my life with. I feel like (a lot of times) I lost -- there's that word again -- the good ones because I was too busy trying to figure out who I was. Am.

I still don't have the answer to that one.

And as much as I wish success, love, and happiness: When they find it, I worry: "What about me?" The answer, quite clearly is "What about you." (and not in the pitying questioning way. More like a statement). I'm letting them go because they have better things to do than stick around here. They've stuck around long enough, anyway.

I'm happy for you. I believe in you.

Just like always.

***

I'm in a strange mood. I was up in the middle of the night to talk to someone I don't see enough. I fell asleep talking to the one person whose emails I save for too long. And I haven't heard from the few folks I used to share meals with daily.

It's weird.

***

For when your troubles startn’ multiplying,
And they just might!
It’s easy to forget them without trying,
With just a pocketful of starlight

Catch a falling star and ( Catch a falling and . . .) put it in your pocket,
Never let it fade away ( Never let it fade away)
Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket,
Save it for a rainy day.

( Save it for rainy day ) Save it for a rainy day

Perry Como sang this song, which has rounded out the strangeness of my day nicely. This will probably be one of those posts I'll hope to set to 'private' in a month or six.

The Purple Panda

I have a lot of creepy connections to the TV show Mister Rogers’Neighborhood. Before I ever moved to the Pittsburgh area, I watched this show all the time as a child. I think I enjoyed King Friday XIII but I don’t remember for sure. King Friday’s favorite color is purple. That seems irrelevant right now but it isn’t. Trust me.

Years later, when we moved to Pittsburgh, I realized that we were there in his hometown! Thrilling! The Pittsburgh Children’s Museum holds the actual Neighborhood of Make-Believe from the show and I saw it in 2001 when my cousin Michael came to visit (he was really little). I thought it was kind of cool, but being 14 didn’t admit it.

On my sixteenth birthday I came downstairs for breakfast and turned on the news (I frequently watched the news in hopes that a giant snow storm would cancel school for the day. And if that didn’t happen, I at least knew the weather and could dress appropriately… though at my school the temperature changed depending on what part of the building you were in). Mere seconds before I turned on the television, I thought to myself "I wonder if anything cool is happening in the news today, since it's my birthday..."

In a moment which was very Charlie Brown-esque, a solemn reporter announced "And today is a sad day for the city of Pittsburgh and many children across North America. Mister Roger's passed away last night due to..." Oh the irony.

Four and a half years later I gained summer employment working at a nursing home. This was the worst job I have ever ever had in my entire life and I have taken a vow never to do it again. Though many interesting, hilarious, and awful professional experiences happened there, one of many particularly interesting blips on my job radar that summer was Mrs. Aber. I don't remember her first name, only that she was a hypochondriac and a member of the PC unit (standing for "Politely Confused"... the "Garden Level" floor AKA the basement where they threw one staff member, fourteen severe Alzheimer's/dementia patients, and five exit doors). Her son, however, was incredibly nice and charming. He even brought the entire unit flags for the Fourth of July.

I later found out from a supervisor that he was Neighbor Abor. Yes! That's Right! As Associate Mayor of Westwood he assists Mayor Maggie and is a kind neighbor to everyone in Make-Believe. As a good friend in the real Neighborhood, he shares his many interests with Mister Rogers and his television friends. He is also the voice for H.J. Elephant III. Again Mister Roger's crosses my path and (this time) thankfully disappears for the time being.

Hold on very tight now, folks.

For the life of me I can't remember this part of Mister Rogers' Neighborhood story but the intrawebs confirms it's existence. This isn't made up. In fact, some people asked on their blogs what special mixture of crack Fred Rogers' was on when he introduced this concept to the show.
On Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood, Planet Purple is a planet on which everything is purple, and everyone and everything is the same. Every girl on Planet Purple is named "Pauline," every boy, "Paul." Purple Panda (played by David L. Nohling), a resident of Planet Purple, can return there "the purple way" (just by thinking). Moreover, all of the planet's inhabitants speak in monotone English.

In his book If We Were All the Same, Fred Rogers details attempts by the residents of Planet Purple, tired of all being the same, to become more colorful.

Planet Purple was discovered by Lady Elaine Fairchilde. Who is she? She’s the outspoken, cranky schemer who took over the Museum-Go-Round after the Froggs moved; often known to say "Okay, toots."

I love that she says "okay, toots."

She is generally the antagonist when a storyline calls for one, but her neighbors are quick to forgive her because they understand her so well. It is discerned during the series that she has low self-esteem and is extremely self-conscious, and because of this, her neighbors are extremely patient with her until she finally learns her lesson. Despite her own faults, she consistently shows King Friday when he is wrong about something and frequently goes to extremes (such as physically moving her museum or modifying a comet) to do so.

Who cares?

I certainly didn't until about twenty four hours ago. For the second year in a row, I'm a summer intern at the Pittsburgh International Children's theatre for the second year, and this time I get to help out with the Children's Festival (which, is going to be great. It's next week and you should come... I'm VERY excited about it). One of the shows is a live and interactive presentation of Mister Roger's Neighborhood. Mr. McFeely and his speed deliveries are the star now that Fred has passed away. Apparently on a professional level, while he's very nice, Mr. Mr. McFeely is also very unorganized.

While making final arrangements with my supervisor, I could hear her on the phone saying,

"The Purple Panda? Oh! Yes, yes, I will. I will. Yes. The Purple Panda. Got it."

She hung up the phone and let out a stream of air she was holding in, perhaps to avoid exclaiming a 'bad' word. One of my co-workers laughingly asked:

"What are you talking about over there, pandas and purple and what?"

My supervisor came out from her cubical... When this happens, it means someone is in trouble, someone is getting more work to do, or someone is about to hear a story. This was a story.

"Do any of you remember the Purple Panda?"

No and what the hell are you talking about!? I couldn't say that so I joined my fellow interns in staring at her, dumbfounded.

"Well it's this character from Mr. Rogers and the guy who originally was the Purple Panda lives in Seattle so I told Mr. Mr. McFeely that there was no way that were were flying him out for two shows. Mr. McFeely agreed that wouldn't be necessary. I thought that we had agreed he would find someone local to play the Purple Panda but apparently that has become my responsibility four days before the festival starts."

Walking back to her office she asked in sarcastic hope which one of us wanted to dress up like the Purple Panda. "Don't all jump at once!"

You all know where this is headed, friends.

As I went to throw out the ticket sales information for the day, I practically ran her over. "This could be your big break," she said with a smile, "the last four years of your life worked to this moment." The whole office was making fun of it, yes. It's ridiculous... yes. And this lady wrote me countless letters of recommendations for graduate school. Yes. I said yes. "I'll do it."
"You will? Are you serious?" She laughed as much in relief as in jest of my new title. Purple Panda the Festival Intern. I should have business cards printed.

As she called to tell Mr. McFeely she had found him a Purple Panda she said "As much as we're knocking it, this really is a good chance for you. When you get him to focus, Mr. McFeely knows a lot of people."

Mister Rogers ended every program telling children... "You've made this day a special day by just your being you. There's no person in the whole world like you. And I like you just the way you are."

Who's playing Mister Roger's Purple Panda for a week? This kid. Right here. Mister Roger's is haunting my life.

"I Think There's Just One Kind of Folks. Folks."

After spending one year with people...

- You recognize their laugh in a crowded room, or across campus.

- You know what will make them angry.

- You learn how to hold a conversation with them.

- You watch them succeed at a task that first seemed overwhelming.

- You understand their sense of humor.

- You can call them to ask for directions when you get lost driving.

- You hear their best stories.

- You let them cry alone so they can have some 'space'.

- You discuss romance.

- You listen to their secrets.

- You see their dreams ahead of them.

- You recognize sparks of talent.

After spending two years with people...

- You know their favorite color.

- You see who they are falling for (you don't have to ask anymore)

- You fight with them over trivial things... And laugh about it not an hour later.

- You call them late at night for all sorts of things (adventures, tears, catching up).

- You travel.

- You share stories together about "that one night last year when..."

- You gossip.

- You fall into step with each other.

- You broaden your friendships by introducing other people from other places.

- You pull silly stunts.

- You ice skate.

- You get organized.

After spending three years with people...

- You recognize their knock on your door.

- You see a flaw or two.

- You know when they are lying.

- You remember the names of their siblings.

- You can dial their phone number from memory.

- You swap clothing.

- You share similar tastes in music.

- You are a part of the same organizations.

- You offer/receive unsolicited advice.

- You have conversations about the details, the broad things have been covered before.

- You remind each other about the essay due next week.

- You grow up a little.

After spending four years with people...

- You can tell what mood they are in based on the way they answer the phone.

- You forget to mention things that are important to each other.

- You laugh at things from three years ago.

- You speak in future and past tense almost interchangeably.

- You disappoint them and break their heart.

- You pretend to place less value on their opinion.

- You dance around the issue to avoid an argument.

- You have matching t-shirts.

- You know why they are wearing their favorite outfit.

- You sing together.

- You read their body language accurately.

- You grow apart a little.

- You see what that spark has turned into. And you're happy for the transformation.

I'm a college graduate. That's weird to say.

Coming up next: A summer of theatre. Followed by [ERROR_PATH_NOT_FOUND: Invalid Entry] in the fall.