Josh (desh) wrote,

About 9 hours ago was closing night of the show I've poured my heart, soul, and time into. It went well, I was very pleased. That sort of performance for that sort of an audience (nearly sold out) is the reason people do theater in the first place. Then we had strike, the process of taking apart the set and restoring the theater to its original condition, of which I was in charge. It ended at 12:30, a good several hours earlier than usual, due to our small set, and then we all headed to the cast party.

The entire show was strangely reminiscent of high school, since four people from my high school, including me and Navah from the class of 1999, were involved. But the party was even weirder in that respect, because of the roughly 30 people there, there were six of us from Akiba. The four involved in the show, the housemate of the cast member who volunteered to host the party, and Navah's best friend who came in from Boston for the show.

And it was a fun party, even though I tend not to like "parties" too much, as the term is used in college. It wasn't at all the calm party I expected from the Jewish theater group, and in fact was just as interesting, or more so, than any theater party I've been to. There were two people that I was interested in, and two people who tried to kiss me, but sadly there was no overlap there. One of the girls I was interested in seemed to be too focused on her Mary Jane, and any chance with the other one may have fallen victim to my indecision, as she is probably still dancing at this moment with a particular other guy (who, objective observers commented, definitely does not deserve her). Regardless of the reasons, I eventually resigned to accept this outcome, and then spent much of my time at the party content to enjoy the company of my old school-mates, and my old classmates in particular, since the two younger girls left relatively early.

I have a strange memory, and one peculiar feature is the two-way connection between songs and either locations or events. At the end of the party I ended up in the kitchen of the house, dancing to Bon Jovi's "Living On A Prayer". And as I always am when I hear that song, I was taken back to June 1999, my high school post-graduation party, with 90% of my class sitting in a circle on Sam's lawn singing that song. Today there were just three people besides me in the kitchen for almost that entire song. Becky, who I've seen once since Sam's party and who I was never really friends with, and who doesn't even go to school in Philly anymore. Aviva, who I've barely spoken to since she and my best friend broke up over a year ago. And Navah, who I was friends with in high school but who I haven't hung out with since we went to prom together. And the four of us going nuts to that song felt so right, like I really belonged there, and there was nothing better I could possibly be doing.

I was suddenly entirely comfortable in a so-called "mainstream" social situation, for possibly the first time in my life. And maybe I shouldn't do this when I'm as tired as I am, but what the hell: Today, the early morning of February 16th, at the age of 22 years and 28 days, I settled into my personality. I am finally capable of bringing my true self to every possible situation. I know basically what sort of person I am, not entirely unlike Nicholson Baker's first day of adulthood (see page 54 of the Vinatage Paperback 1990 edition of his excellent book The Mezzanine), though maybe not quite as dramatic. And you know, it feels GOOD.

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