nicole stuff

I started looking through my old improv notebooks last week. I was pretty meticulous about taking notes through the beginning levels. I also chronicled the early months of both of the indie teams I was on. It was kind of lovely and heartbreaking. I loved moving up through the levels, but I don’t think there was anything like being on those teams for the first time. Picking names, booking your first shows, forging individual identities within a group identity - the sink or swim together of it all.

The thing is, from the beginning what I wanted more than absolutely anything was to be on an indie team. Really. I love the UCB Theatre and the opportunities afforded to me there but there’s some roguish charm in a community whose success and failure depends entirely on communal support. My first 501 class was filled with people from TYR, Bad Data, Baby Grenade and LD. I’m not even sure I had seen all of them play but knowing they had manged to do what I aspired to do, felt like a big deal.

From my 301 practice group on, I was probably desperate and crazy-eyed to be on a team and was looking to transition into one. I joined two at the same time, and one fell apart within months because of different expectations (that weird split that happens after 501 between “this is for fun” and “this is the rest of my life” people.) The other I left after a really awesome year because I just didn’t know how to manage my time anymore. At that point I thought I was being pro-active and grown up and not letting those time and focus conflicts fester. Looking back? I doubt that decision a whole bunch.

I have pangs of envy for everyone still on active indie teams. (Sheesh, the irony of dating a Robot.) I’ve tried a few times to get something going again but it’s, you know, not the same when you’re coralling busy people into something they’re not necessarily certain they have time for. I kind of worry that window closed for me, but I’m thankful for the opportunity I had.

Oh …FRS. Oh Bender.