just in time

my online diary of bringing a broadway show to the stage. updated weekly, edited sparingly, truthful unflinchingly

feb 3, 2025, west village, evening

we meet tonight for a musical run-through of a press event planned for wednesday. our director, our music director, and our star. if my fourteen year old self had known that one day i’d be in a cozy living room, singing a duet with THE Melchior Gabor….it’s moments like these where i wonder what brave little soul has been marching alongside imposter mcgee all these years. somehow i’ve ended up here, despite countless moments of self-doubt. as loud as the voices of imposter mcgee are, clearly she has a shadow self, a quiet, steady accomplice who keeps pushing forward into the unknown.

i cherish these early moments of a process. i imagine it’s akin to how new parents feel, when the baby is a secret. before they have to announce on social media and deal with a swarm of well-meaning peers chiming in with their two cents as to how to care for, swaddle, feed, raise the baby.

right now, it is just ours. a little, tiny breathing thing. we order sushi and talk about the next steps. i feel late to the process, i didn’t do the workshop. i remember feeling the same way when i started mean girls. the literal new kid, showing up to day one feeling such a distinct desire to prove myself.

i don’t feel that desire as deeply. i’ve learned that letting a process unfold in fits and starts instead of trying to stick the landing immediately usually leads to a more successful, nuanced collaboration. i tell them the only fear i have is that i’m about to be passed the proverbial “baby” and i am still learning the baby’s name. i don’t want to fuck up this thing they’ve cared for for so long.

they laugh, and someone says, “no no. it’s not that precious. drop the baby.”

i laugh, shove some more sushi in my mouth. we run through a song at a yellow keyboard. it’s like going on a first date, singing with someone for the first time. i don’t want to try too hard, but i also want to show that i’m game. i don’t want to take the reins too ferociously, but i also want to hint at my ideas, share my insights.

i take a cab home because the subway scares me these days. i remember reading about a cast member from the original production of merrily we roll along. he was so anxious he’d get hit by a car before rehearsal started that he became afraid to walk on the sidewalk. i understand this paranoia. right now, so many wonderful things seem to be happening at once i want to cocoon myself against the world, nervous something sinister will rise up in order to maintain balance. this is why i take the cab home from the beautiful apartment with the warm lighting and yummy sushi and the talented artists and supportive collaborators and cozy feeling of peace.