Hey there all,
I'm back, married and 30. Life is good. I'm totally exhausted as I haven't had a moment off since the wedding on Friday, but I'm very content. I've had life changing events, not just those mentioned a few sentences ago, but much larger ones too.
I completed the 7 year process of writing the script that will premier in TO yesterday. I'm happy with it. There will be a tad of polishing before rehearsals begin next month, but it's in a near-to-finished state at this point.
So, let's talk epic betrayal.
5 months ago, I got engaged. In talking with the SO about getting married, we wanted to do something that reflected our two different backgrounds. For me, that meant theatre, for him that meant rural life. So we decided, if possible, that we would have the ceremony at the rehearsal hall of the theatre where I work, and the reception out in the country at his childhood home. At the theatre, I announce our engagement and before I can ask, the AD (artistic director) says I should have my wedding at the theatre. I say we would like that very much, and she tells me to write her, the GM (general manager) and the PM (production manager) an email explaining my reasoning as to why I want to get married at the theatre, since it needs to be a group decision of all three members of management if it's to happen. I agree, she leaves and I start to write an emotional message about how the people of the theatre have been like a family to me, and while I'm writing, I tear up a bit because of how heartfelt it is. The GM is passing by and sees me in this state, she says "oh no, are you crying?" and I explain how the AD has asked me to write the email request and the GM says "If I have any say in it, you will have your wedding here. Send your email, but know I'm behind you on this." So I send off my email, and the next week the AD, GM, and PM all walk into my office and close the door. We discuss the nature of the ceremony (under 50 guests, secular), and it is determined that all three of the upper management people are in support of holding the ceremony in the rehearsal hall of the theatre. The GM asks what will happen if something comes up to interfere, and the AD says "we will put the wedding on the production schedule, and we commit to it. (to me) You will get married here! You're going to get married here." More discussion of what if's happens, and all discussion leads to a "we're committing to this, and anything else that comes up will occur after this commitment has been made, so this commitment supercedes it" agreements. I ask the PM if he is okay with this because he has been mostly quiet, he says he agrees with the AD and GM, and that he'll put up some lights and do other work to make the space beautiful.
Two months later, the theatre season is announced, and planning begins for that. This is also when my program ends for a two month hiatus. I'm unconcerned because I'm in regular contact with everyone at the theatre anyway. I leave for the summer, but from this point on, until six days before the wedding, I have no idea anything is going wrong.
At this point, the first production meeting of the season occurs, and the PM mentions to the AD that rehearsals at the end of September will need to be scheduled around "the wedding" she says "what wedding" and he reminds her of our wedding. During the meeting, in front of numerous staff, the PM tells the AD that it will be her job to speak to the director of the show rehearsing in the rehearsal hall and let this director know a wedding is occurring in the space. It is agreed that this is a minor issue, since it's a touring show that has to pack up and move the set up to twice a day, and all they'll need to do is move upstairs to one of the smaller studios for a day and a half, and this sort of packing up is necessary for the cast a crew to get used to any way. The AD agrees that she will call the director and let him know this.
Six weeks pass, and the rehearsals for the play using the same space as the wedding ceremony are about ti begin. It has beendetermined that due to budget constraints, the rehearsal period for the show must be cut in-half to two weeks instead of four. Many staff are angry because there are several other options - such as reducing set, prop or costume costs, that would not effect the quality of the show. The rehearsal time is cut, the director of the play is incredibly unhappy about it, but he is forced to accept it. At this point here is another production meeting. It is then raised that the wedding is during the now two week rehearsal period. The AD again says "what wedding?" Apparently, at this juncture, the meeting explodes into yelling. The GM is furious to hear the AD never called the play's director about the wedding in the first place, and he demands that she and only she can be the one to call the director and tell him this. She agrees. But she doesn't call him. She tells her assistant, who actually goes and gets coffee and answers the phones, to email the director of the play, while the AD goes off on vacation. Her assistant does email the director, and the director calls back and screams and yells and freaks out. He refused to move his rehearsal upstairs, mostly because he has already been fucked around, and screwed over enough. The AD is gone, so her assistant goes to the GM and tells her about the directors fit. The GM says "Melanie should have known better than to plan her wedding here, we're a theatre first and formost." Apparently the assistant is horrified by this and says the theatre is caving to the directors childish hissy fit, but the GM isn't interested in hearing it. The GM then tells the PM that he, who stood up for the wedding and tried to maintain the commitment to us all the long, is the one who must tell me the wedding booking is cancelled.
This occurs six days before the wedding and two weeks after I've returned to my desk to start up my program for another season. Upon my return I felt an odd sense that something was very wrong, but even when I asked, no one indicated anything was out of order. Six days before the wedding, I am told my booking for the ceremony has been cancelled because the director of the show rehearsing in the space refuses to move upstairs. This is all I'm told - not about the AD never planning for the ceremony or calling the director, not about the GM making the statements she did. Even not knowing the full story, I'm basically sickened by this. I know that the PM is only the messenger, so I can't get angry at him, but I start to cry, which is worse, because he is clearly heart broken too. I tell him over and over as he apologizes over and over "I know this isn't you doing this, I know this isn't you." I stagger off, and I sit in my car, weep, feel rage and deep, deep betrayal. My SO is out of town with work, and unreachable until he's scheduled to get home late that evening. One of my bridesmaids is in the building shooting an episode of the TV show she hosts, and she sees my face, though we can't speak as she's in the middle of a shoot, and her face registers that she knows. I stagger out of the building, not knowing where I'll get married in six days. I run into my most scatter brained coworker in this state of weeping, and the story spills out of me. She is filled with rage and "says something must be done about this! Something must be done about this!" I go to my previously scheduled hair appointment to plan for what I'll do with my hair for the wedding, and enter a strange meditative state that usually only occurs for me during life threatening situations. It's the end of the business day, so I basically have five days to find a new venue and change everything over to it. As I sit in the stylist's chair, I calmly figure out an alternate plan.
I know what you're thinking, because I thought of it too - just move everything to the country. Sadly this isn't an option for many reasons, including that the wedding commissioner being available to go out of town (and already paid for), and that all of the majority of other things set to occur that day were already paid for and nonrefundable, and most importantly, that several of my closest loved ones couldn't manage to go out of town due to work or family situations.
Here's what I do: I leave the salon, I drive to the absolute scariest part of the city, to a place that I used to work that is surrounded by drunks and druggies, and across the street from the only hotel left in the city that still charages by the hour. It happens to be a 100 year old decomissioned railway station that has been converted into a centre for Aboriginal culture and training. It happens to have an ornate giant rotunda area that only a train station of a boom town during railway expansion would have. I stand there amids marble, columns, gold gilding and I try really hard not to fall in love with the space, because all the offices are closed, and there's no one there to tell me if what I'm imagining is possible. I think of my 100 year old wedding dress, quietly waiting to be worn again by me and try not to fall in love with the space. I walk up the stairs where thousands of my fellow city dwellers walked up to come home for the first time, or to meet loved ones after long separations, wars and journeys off all kinds. I try really, really hard not to fall in love with the space, because I can't even imagine another let down. I walk over the security desk door to ask if anything is going on the following Friday. The guard isn't there, but there's a strange stuffed animal, which I stare at. I hear someone say "you see I got a friend there?" I turn and see the guard, who is limping over to me, and he says "I got a friend there, a kid gave him to me. He's called Limpy! That's his name!" I say that's a nice name and ask if anyone's ever gotten married in this place, and he says he doesn't think so. I ask if he knows if anything's going on on the date of the wedding, and he says that he's the one who does set up, and he isn't scheduled to do any set up in the building so far that day, but the women who does the bookings is gone for the day. He's about to set up for a reception happening in the space that evening, so I leave.
In the mean time, my sister has found a hideous 80's hotel penthouse that we can use if all else fails, and a chorus of "fuck them's" has been left on my answering machine by my bridesmaids.
The SO comes home, and I tell him the news. He is in utter shock. He basically can't believe that we no longer have a place to get married, or that the theatre I've always loved and devoted five years to would do such a thing. "No. No." He says. I tell him we don't have time to dwell. I say "come with me" and I drive him first to the Aboriginal centre, then the ugly hotel suit, then to the largest public library. We vacillate between shock, anger, heartbreak and disbelieving laughter. We both agree the Aboriginal centre is the best option, but have no idea if it's even possible. We go home, and we both utter "what the fuck? what the fuck?" about 100 times each.
The SO's mother, meanwhile, has planned an entire other option of having the ceremony out in the country, unaware that many aspects of it make it impossible. We call and tell her this, she gives me a serious pep talk, and tells me to go in to work the next day (the opposite of what I'd planned) and not give them an inch. To simply say that I have found somewhere else to get married. The SO and I murmur agreement with her, she says "they're not your family. They never were. We're your family now." We say goodbye to her. Go to bed. We lie there, clothed on our bed, unable to speak except to utter "what the fuck" and laugh in disbelief. We eventually give over to the kind of death sleep you usually only have when a death has occurred.
I take the SO's mother's advice and go to work the next day. I tell people the problem is solved and we're getting married somewhere else. I call the Aboriginal centre, and within one hour they have agreed to have the wedding there, to handle all the setup and provide security, and invite me to come to them immediately to plan with them. I do so, call the SO and tell him everything is taken care of. I go back to my desk, and sit there making calls and sending emails to alert everyone to the change of venue. Within 24 hours everything is solved. The next day three separate coworkers from different departments who don't know each other independently inform me of what really happend with the AD not calling the director, and the GM throwing the SO and I under the bus. All I have said to any one is "I'm interested in focusing on the positive."
The AD came back from her trip, came to me and apologized while lying to me about what happened, unaware that I know the truth. I basically refused to talk about it, and she clearly wanted me to forgive her while not admitting what she had done. I just kept saying "I don't want to dwell on it, I want to focus on the good things." After she left I told my direct supervisor what happened since he didn't know. He was sickend by what happend and said "something needs to be done about this." I told him that I am looking for another job, and he has happily agreed to be a reference for me.
The GM avoided me all week.
Friday, I got married. It was beautiful and perfect and that story is coming.
Monday I came around the corner, face to face with the GM, who has been sucking up to me ever since. Today alone she called me "beautiful" "brilliant" and "smart" and told me "I've lost so much weight! It's incredible! Do you feel great?! You should feel great!"
Yesterday I started looking for a new job, and I already found several I'm qualified for. None of them are in theatre. I am tired of mentally unwell people, disorganization and blamelessness I've also seen through my false perceptions of coworkers as family. I very well could be done with the career I've comitted my life to up till now. I'm pretty sure I am.
The only reason I sit in my office at the theatre is to use the computer and printer to prepare and send out resumes.
The Honeymoon is Friday, hopefully I'll come home to some interviews.
Considering how many people at the theatre get paid to do next-to-nothing, I'm guessing I can hold out for up to six months of letting my department slip into the toilet while I search out a new job if need be. I'm willing to bet I'll be starting a new career within a month. Hopefully this is the case, because I'm deeply uncomfortable about doing a poor job at anything, even after total betrayal - I'm just too caught up in doing things right I guess. I recently witnessed a coworker let his department drop from binging in $25 000 a year to bringing in under $4000 over a year span, and there hasn't been the slightest indication of repremand for this (he's been promoted this year) so something tells me it will be a long while before anything is said to me, even if I'm mostly checked out until I find a new job.
After the honeymoon, I'll be here quite a bit more.
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Topic: Mrs. side_show (Read 5336 times)