I haven't worn makeup since Witness for the Prosecution last year, and I realized this morning again that all the makeup I own is stage makeup. I made do the best I could, but still felt it was a bit heavy.
Until I walked into the room. It turns out that I was the least made-up person there. Some of the people were so extreme, they were like archetypes from the movies, not real people. There was politician's assistant-fellow, who wore the exact suit and plain tie, perfectly pressed, that you would see the young executive wearing in a movie. He had expensive but understated glasses, and a carefully displayed expensive watch. He had a perfect gleaming white smile, and not a hair out of place.
But he wasn't the only one. As I looked around, the majority of them were perfectly groomed, with perfect teeth. Most of them wore expensive suits, and understated but expensive jewelry, not ostentatious, but eye-catching. Women had perfect hair. Men had perfect shaves.
Then there were the non-executive archetypes. A woman named Lupe had straight, black hair, and her jewelry was silver and turquoise. She looked as though she had stepped into the room from the heart of Mexico City, not downtown Lansing. Sister Mary Giovanni is a catholic nun, and was there in her full habit, whimple (sp?) and all. The large crucifix she wore around her neck was carved from an alabaster-colored material, and was a very detailed depiction of the suffering of Jesus on the cross. She had kind smiles for me, and spoke always of the spiritual wellness of the community.
A fellow was there from a prestigious anesthesiology practice in western Michigan. He was so pale, that it was obvious he spent most of his hours deep in the bottom of a hospital, far from the sun. He was the only person there not perfectly groomed, however it was obvious from his disheveled appearance that he had driven straight to the meeting from a long night at work.
And I wondered to myself, "What's my archetype?"
I knew I wasn't dressed right to be the "technoguru" called in for advice. I didn't have on a pocket protector, or the classic egghead polo shirt and jeans. I had purposefully worn the most conservative things I could find.
I was the youngest person there, but I think I was presenting myself too professionally to be "the kid".
I tried to see myself through their eyes, and it occurred to me that maybe I was "young career woman." You see those a lot in movies. They dress beyond their means, but wear cheap shoes, figuring you won't look at those, anyway. They speak carefully to avoid any slang that might try to creep out of their mouths. They smile a lot, and blatantly demonstrate that a year ago, they were a student, working in customer service somewhere, where they learned that canned smile and cheery "can-do" attitude.
I don't know where I fit in that room. I don't remember exactly what I said to them, except that I used big words, like "collaborative", and "incremental costs" a lot. I spoke of communications tools, and know that I made references to specific problems I knew the group would be facing that I could solve. I used group member's names, to make them feel like this was a personal presentation. I smiled when I talked of solutions, and was more serious when I discussed problems. I used words and phrases I had heard them mention in the earlier parts of the meeting, since I knew they were important to the group, like "hospice care", and "mission directive", which are not normally part of my vocabulary. Everyone said it was a good presentation.
In fact, I was using all the things I learned in years of trying to be an actress. I didn't think about it ahead of time, I just automatically did it, and realized it was I walked out of the building afterward. I used a posture I knew was good. I selected a spot to stand where the lighting would be best, and only used extraneous movement when it was necessary to get someone's attention. I used theatrical timing to spread my speaking out so it could be easily understood, and projected it so I would be easy to hear. When I wanted to be more intimate with the people I was talking to, I changed posture accordingly, and made direct eye contact. When I wanted to speak more generally, I chose spots for focus, so that it would appear to most people in the room that my eyes weren't wandering.
When I smile in real life, (except for with Forest) I don't often show my teeth. When I smile on stage, I do.
What's bizarre about it is that after I left it occurred to me that it wasn't a performance. I really am Wendy, and this is really my job. Someone actually pays me to do this. I was honestly walking out of a state office building with a briefcase in one hand and my minivan keys in the other, listening to my dress shoes go "click, click" on the pavement. I had really just given a "presentation", and distributed "materials" to these people.
When did I get so grown up?
This used to be a part that I played, and now it's real. I'm not sure what I think about that.
I really need to unwind. I feel like going shopping and buying something frivolous to reward myself, but I really can't afford to. Instead, after work I will go see Forest at Olga's, and get free food there. Then I'll probably go home, and curl up on my couch, and try to feel warm and comfy and safe somehow. I feel all exposed all of the sudden, realizing that it's not an act anymore.
It's a really good thing that tomorrow is Friday. I'm fried, and the weekend will be welcome. The date with Forest will be welcome, too, if he's well by then. Saturday night I think I'm getting together with Shel, and Saturday during the day working on Tae Guks with Elizabeth.
At this point, I'll feel better just doing something familiar.
I'm pretty excited, because I found out that they are holding more auditions for Taming of the Shrew. I talked to the director, and he's pretty excited about doing the whole show in a commedia dell’arte style, which means lots of slapsticky stuff, audacious humor, and everything to the extreme. Extreme love, extreme violence, extreme anger. It sounds like a lot of fun, and all that physical stuff is right up my alley.
What's even better is that Don wants to rehearse over a long period of time, one day per week. That's luxury for an actor! That means I can ring bells, take Tae Kwon Do class, and not worry about scheduling conflicts. WOW. I hope I'm cast.
I suppose I've avoided work long enough. I'm just plain so thrown off by the mood of the morning that I don't know where I'm sitting at this point.
I guess I'll go get a cup of tea and try to proceed from there.
