Saturday mornings in the 14/48 theater means everyone looks a little more comfortable and a whole lot more tired. Everyone's still excited, but they may need a little extra caffeine (or even a power nap) to get through the day. People know what to expect now even though the group they work with will most likely be different than yesterday.
I'm getting complimented left and right on my pants. I even got a shout out from a car on one of my breaks. I call them my circus sweats. Grey, ruffled pants from top to bottom. They're super comfy. After yesterday when I almost froze from sitting in the air conditioned lobby for almost two hours just catching up on all the bits I'd recorded, I decided Opal Peachy was right - pajamas, or something basically like that - would be a better idea. I know it's 80 outside. I've seen the sun.. briefly. Sigh. But really, I can sacrifice a nice sunny day or two for 14/48. I'd give my left pinky to participate in this festival.
After the actor draw and all the casts disappeared with their directors, I had a terribly quotable time with virgin playwrights, Jon Lutyens and Charles Smith.
Jon tells me, "Today, I've given [his cast] a line of gaelic. Fortunately, for an Irish play, we pulled Peter Dylan O'Connor, so that helps."
"You have a lesbian penguin, so that's sort of like a nun.. and nuns are always fun," he says to Charles. As if lesbian penguins aren't.
We just sit together for a while and banter back and forth.
Jodi-Paul Wooster, the founder of 14/48, comes over and, somehow, we get on the subject of his name. His given name is Paul Sanford Wooster. In college, he went by P. S. Wooster, "because that's what you do when you're a pretentious college student," he says.
Jon says, "I wish I'd known that. Next time, if you ever, ever draw me to write again.." implying one of his future characters would be named after him.
This leads to the origin of my name. Jon asks if it's Angela (and if he can call me Jelly. I deadpan, "No," immediately.). It technically is.. on the birth certificate. But I relay the story of my mom telling me it was my dad's idea to name me Angel. I was his 'little angel'. Mom wanted to name me Babette. I was drinking water at the time and had a real-life spit take. Babette Marie. Babs for short. Yeah. Ew. Babette is ok. Babs? Gah. No.
During tech, I over hear Peter Dylan O'Connor ask sarcastically, "Lutyens? Does that sound like an Irish name to you?!"