Age of Uncertainty

It was wonderful. We remain undefined. But, since I am generally an understanding person, that's okay for now. I just have to cross my fingers that he'll come around to where I am now--God knows I've been where he is.

Fung Wah

I'm about to leave for Boston... I'll let you know how it goes.

Judgment

My friend CB is visiting. He graduated a year ahead of me from my high school's rival high school in Hometown, TN. He is here to audition for 4 Graduate School Acting Programs. He lives in Washington DC and has a nice little totally un-paid acting career while working as an admin in a large anti-smoking non-profit. He smokes, though he has cut down.

CB and I had several long talks throughout his entire application process. Having gone to a serious and reputable BFA conservatory program, I am very jaded about the whole thing. Now, I loved college. I had an amazing time, met amazing people, and felt like I was fully prepared to change the world upon graduation. It has really been since I left school that I learned all the lessons that they tried to teach: that being an artist is an intensely personal experience that no one can teach you. That there are no answers, that success is fleeting and not owed to anyone anywhere and even less so to anyone attempting a creative profession.

Of people that are celebrities I would guess less than 1% have been formally trained. Of people who are eking out a living, or those that are comfortably working in theater I would guess maybe 20% have a degree--though I think that's growing. I worked with a guy at a high end regional theater who at 23 I thought had serious star potential. He is now at his 3rd year at Yale Drama. I have less faith in his ability to make it now, he's a little less individual. I actually think in his case, he will have to overcome his training.

So, while all this stuff runs through my head, I'm trying to be supportive of CB who already has huge financial debt and is a year older than me. Now as I've been bitching earlier, I don't think CB has any less of a chance of being famous than Lana Turner, but I don't he has a better chance than my roommate St. Matthew who has a degree in political science and is a great actor.

Sinking

I'm sinking into the depths of dorkdom. All this computer blah blah blah. And FrontPage for Dummies is on hold for me at the library. Seems like I need another drunken night to prove I'm cool. Yes, if there's one thing I've learned in my years, it's that getting drunk proves your cool. At least I'll always have that knowledge.

Power Point!

Why, Power Point? Why do you have to be like that? Damn.

I'm going to read up on Angelina's pregnancy.

Vive la difference

I met a guy yesterday who has just moved to NY from Nebraska. He meet a girl at a wedding about 6 weeks ago in Nebraska. She lives here. He moved. So far so good.

What a romantic story. Do you think T would feel bitterly attacked if I related it to him? Yeah, me too.

Scrappy

I picked a fight with T today. I have mixed feelings about this. On one hand, I'm upset for behaving like such an immature, whinny baby. On the other hand, I feel that he has forced me to 'act out' by denying me attention. Part of me thinks that he wanted me to do this. Yes, I realize I sound absolutely insane.

Yesterday we talked and he was in a depression super-funk. I tried to cheer him up, but, as I have learned over years of his depressions, I can not fix it when he's like that. He said he would call me later and didn't. Then, today, I see him on IM (the best place possible to start a fight) and he's the fucking blue-bird of happiness. There is a saying by his name that is in Russian. I ask him what it means. "Working hard so I can go to Germany." I do not ask but assume that he has talked to his Russian girl-friend. He certainly can't speak let alone write it.

I take offense. I tell him that I'm upset. I am upset. Is it emotional and illogical that I'm upset? Yes. Does that temper my feelings or display of them? No.

So, he feels attacked. I feel helpless and angry, and I'm seeing him Saturday. I feel so stuck. I want to care and be generous, and I don't want to censor myself. I am aware there is no answer to this. I just wanted to try to talk it out.

The little things

I totally rule. I just spent way to much time on the phone with the IRS finding volunteer sites for tax preparation. I have regurgitated this information into a memo for employees proving that I am thoughtful, prepared, and sexy. If this memo does not make me instantly more popular, I don't know what will.

No worries

It appears that I am over-dramatic and the world is not about to end. Though in 2 more winters I'm pretty convinced that the Hudson will be the temperature of a jacuzzi, and snow will be the new Dodo bird.

I had a wonderful slumber party girls night last night. There were 5 of us in my little apartment stuffing ourselves and watching movies. Then we all changed into negligees and had a pillow fight with flying feathers.

In other news: Pink is the New Blog has a link up that is awesome.

Oh no

Well, I'm afraid this is the end of the world. I think the worst possible thing that could happen to Democrats or anyone who is against the war in Iraq has occurred. There's no good way to say, 'I agree with Osama.'

Damn it.

I read an abbreviated version of his message (through an Australian news source) and it pissed me off. I think this war is terrible, I think it was and has been a mistake at every step, but having Mr. 9/11 say that makes me livid. If I am livid then the red states and far-right-scary-Christians are going to suggest we drop an A-bomb.

I went to lunch with a guy from France today--maybe he has a couch I could hide out on.

Pigs are flying

T is coming for a visit. A very short visit, but nonetheless he intends to spend 1 to 2 nights in NYC. The opera is sold out. It's the one thing I was banking on. The opera never sells out, but the Monday he'll be here is Ms. Taymore's Magic Flute. I can't think of a single other thing he might like... maybe the museums. How can I entertain in the most entertaining place in the world? I'm working against his natural dislike of crowded or cramped places too.

Tests

After spending time with Manhattan strippers last night, I really wanted to go to the gym. Unfortunately (and predictably), I was late leaving work. So I rushed like a mad woman to get to my favorite gym class in time. I arrived a few minutes late, and it was packed full of January-gym-goers. January is the worst time to go to the gym. It is a place filled with unhappy people. People are either regular gym-goers filled with rage against the new people who have just joined and are crowding what the regulars think of as 'their space,' or new members who are miserable working out, and shocked at the horrendous attitudes of everyone around them. January gym always makes me think of the scene in Ghostbusters where the negative energy of New York City is glowing ectoplasm running in rivers in the sewers and speeding the end of the world.

On top of jumping into this volatile environment, I was running late so I was pissy. The class was packed, but I found a place to squeeze in a step. Then the horrendous AARP, black, still-fat-even-though-she's-a-regular, woman in front of me told me I was too close. I scooted the step the few inches of give I had. She shook her head with attitude that had the force of a nuclear bomb. I said: 'I'm not trying to ruin your day.' She said, 'you did.'

I put my step away and left. Part of me was mad that I would make any concession for her, but the other half of me knew that if I stayed I would be livid, not say anything, and perhaps give myself an evil-eye aneurism. I took a moment to cry in the bathroom feeling angry, helpless, and like I was drowning in the Ghostbuster's ectoplasm. Then I left and took a slow leisurely walk over to the Butter Cream Bake Shop on the East Side. I bought myself one of my favorite cupcakes, then strolled over to the Barnes and Noble on 3rd and 53rd. I read some Emily Dickinson and thought about how much she loved things like grass and could describe dew-drops as the most precious pearls. Then weaved my way back to my apartment off Ninth Ave.

That was my day.

learning curve

One of my dearest friends recently lost her virginity. She decided she had waited long enough and lack of experience was holding her back. Since then, she's been involved in various stages of sexual awakening.

Tonight she took me to a strip club. The Hustler's club to be exact. It's farther west that the FedEx pick-up station. I can totally understand her interest, and can, if drunk and a man is buying my way through the strip-club/money-pit, find that kind of thing appealing. It's simply that I'm not as interested as I once was.

Mostly the experience just made me want to work out more.

Awards

So, everyone at the New York Times thinks that A History of Violence should get nominated for various awards. I saw that movie. There was a very sexy sex scene on the stairs, then there were guns, then I fell asleep. Before all that there was a 69 scene that made me very uncomfortable. I don't know what I was supposed to gain from this graphic novel turned Viggo-fest. Does this make me a) a puritan b) lacking in nuance c) right? Anybody see this thing?

Have you ever?

So, I ended up drinking apprx 1/3 a bottle of tequilla. Have you ever been so poisoned from drinking that you vomit water? I felt like I was in college again--with better hair.

The best part of it all: I was with my boss and her boyfriend.

While laying in bed all day yesterday, I ended up seeing a great documentary on Dr. King. He's so inspiring... I don't know how many times I've heard the 'I have a dream' sound clip, but it gives me chills everytime.

Going out

I'm going out and I intend to drink.

God I hope there's someone fun to talk to at this bar since I'm meeting two couples.

I will have fun, I will have fun....

I'll let you know if I had fun.

Unlucky

T and I got in a fight today. He's possibly/maybe/probably going to be in Boston two weekends from now. I am trying to find a way to meet him up there, take a day off work, catch the old Fung-Wah, etc. The catch is that a friend of mine from DC is planning on crashing with me that very weekend for his gradschool auditions. I am trying to schedule this and T is being really slippery about the whole thing. We hadn't talked in a couple days because he's been calling while I was asleep mostly.

Well, we talked this morning, and I basically told him that I just needed to know if he wanted me to even come or not. He went into a long slippery explanation of why he wouldn't commit to saying he wanted to see me. It boils down to he had it so rough for so long and he doesn't want to fall into our old pattern (to me our old pattern was loving each other). He has to make his schedule with him as the priority. Blah blah blah.

It is additionally hard on him (poor, poor him) that now I'm doing exactly what he said he needed from me. 'But T,' I said, 'From what I understand I was the problem, and now I'm trying to fix the problem.' Perfect fucking logic from my end. I guess he just doesn't want it to be that easy. What other rings of fire do I have to jump through?

I think it would be easier for us to cut our loses and settle for somebody else. But I would rather be unhappy with him than happy with some first rate loser. I would rather have hard time with him that an easy time with some tool like E. Perhaps I am a glutton for punishment. Perhaps I love the drama and it makes me feel important and meaningful.

I'm trying to decide if he is purposely trying to humiliate me, and if so, if there will be an end point. Will crawling to Boston on my knees be enough? Will begging for his love be enough? Will sacrificing a small goat on a stone alter be enough? I bet the goat will. Everyone loves a good goat sacrifice.

just thinking

http://cagle.com/news/AlitoHearings/1.asp Holy Shit.

Updates

Audition went as predicted, though the Romeo reader was very good-looking and available and that was nice. If I'm going to put myself on the spot like that, I may as well enjoy the scenery right? Right.

Update 2: I'm learning the payroll process at work right now, which is exciting, but stressful. Luckily there's good celebrity gossip to keep me calm.

Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow

I have an audition tomorrow to play Juliet. I am not a Juliet type. I’m more of a Kate in Taming of the Shrew type. I’m the kind of girl that makes it easy to laugh at her. It is rare I inspire soliloquies, but often I inspire one-liners. In the shower (where all my best thinking is done), I tried to imagine the kind of universe where I would play Juliet.

I didn’t write about it, but I saw the Globe Company’s production of Measure for Measure a few weeks ago at St. Anne’s Warehouse. I was also lucky enough to see them perform Twelfth Night at the Globe in London in 2003. Both productions were all male, and they are the best Shakespeare I have seen in my life. I have seen a lot of Shakespeare. I feel in love when my grandmother took me to the Utah Shakespearian Festival when I was six. If it weren’t for Shakespeare, I would never have pursued theater.

I have decided the reason these all-male productions were so amazing was because of the necessity for a ‘willing suspension of disbelief.’ When a man is playing Juliet, it doesn’t matter what 'she' looks like becuase Juliet, not the actor, is ideal. In all male productions, the player falls away and the character can be seen: the character who exists only in Shakespeare’s words. When you put a woman in that part, every man in the audience measures if he would be willing to die for her, every woman measures her to see if she believes a man would be willing to die for her. An actress has to be Juliet, not play Juliet. It matters on some unspoken level if she is blonde or brunette, depending on the individual audience member’s relationship to what he or she thinks an ideal woman should be. If it is a man in a wig, the color doesn’t matter because the wig is only there to play a woman, not be a woman.

I do not think all Shakespearian productions should be all-male (or I would never be able to be in one again). I do think however, that it is the only universe where only Shakespeare’s words matter, and the only universe where someone as un-Juliet as me, could be Juliet. Shakespeare could make me Juliet, nothing less.

This is for left-field

Forgive my lack of photo-shop, and read this entry.

uninspired

I miss talking, and yet I have nothing much to say; I'm turning into a Grandma. Just wanted to say hey, not much is going on. I worked for far too long today then took myself to dinner where I ate the saltiest salad imaginable. It was very good, just salty.

If I were to be inspired isn't salty salad a good title... for a guitar solo?

Nightmare

I woke up this morning from a horrible nightmare. I can't shake the dread. It basically boiled down to the feelings that I didn't matter. I don't flatter myself that I'm important in my little life, but this dream was that nobody cared at a total isolation It's hard to describe dreams, or maybe the terror came from the feeling that I had been given up on, abandoned.

I tried to go back to sleep and re-dream it. My mother swears by this technique. You re conjure the dream and deal with it. I was able to get back to sleep, but I just woke with less pronounced anxiety.

In other news, I saw a fantastic play yesterday: Souvenir. It closes today. It was a beautiful, intimate show that should have never played a Broadway house. I think it would have been a hit off-Broadway. It's about Florence Foster Jenkins who was the William Hung of her generation. It was a great story and showed so much admiration for the type of the people who don't care what we think of them. Then I had a nightmare about how much I care what people think of me.

At the bottom of the Florence Foster Jenkins link you can hear a sound sample.

Learning

I have mixed feelings about the learning thing. It makes me feel super smart and proud of myself, but it also makes me want to look at the latest pictures on People.com.

I learned how to do some kick ass things in Excel today. I think most people already know these things, but I'm nonetheless pretty damn proud of it. After figuring out this shit on my own, and some Microsoft Frontpage to top it off, all I want to know is if Angelina Jolie is pregnant or not!!!!

In other news I had to go to FedEx on 49th btw 11th and 12th today to pick up a package. For non-NYers that's practically in the Hudson. It did make me realize what I've been missing by not spending more time on 10th Ave though. A couple cute bars, a German restaurant which is the self-proclaimed wurst in Manhattan, a gas station, I mean, whoa.

Auld Lang Syne

The old acquaintance I will miss:

In 2006 I only have one job; I no longer work weekends at super-dooper luxury high-rise residential building. I will miss the 1 year + of free toilet paper I got from them.

In 2006 I received a new cell phone. I will miss my old phone with the saved text message I sent to myself from E's phone that reads: I'm sorry I'm gay. It was right before I break up.

I hope that 2006 can offer even better opportunities than free toilet paper and digital comic gold.

Dogs and Tricks

T is depressed because there is no one to drive him to the dentist tomorrow. He's realized (again) that he lives in TN when most of his friends have moved, that he works out of his house and hates his job. I (again) feel bad about this. Then I (again) think: well, T, you could live in New York.

When T and I broke up, I was forced to realize he was very unhappy, and that no matter what I did, or where I was, he would be unhappy. I learned that it was up to him to fix that problem. I think that that (coupled with my tendency toward complete selfishness) is why I never seriously considered moving to him.

I love him more than anything.

PBS!

So, In the Life is on right now. This poor girl came out in her uber-Christian town and everyone freaked out. They even had video of her consultation with her Pastor where he told her that squashing her feelings for the rest of her life would make her happier than acting on them because she would be squashing for the Glory of God. Wow. I really wanted to hit him.

I hope that girl knows that there is life outside her town. She's a hottie too.

She discussed how coming out had tested her faith, that when all the hate crimes where happening she felt that she had really been forsaken. I can't think of a time in my life where I felt forsaken.

I do remember when I questioned my parents what they would say if I were gay they said they would be sad because it would make my life that much harder and life is hard enough as it is. Or that is what my mom said, I think my dad thought it would be hot.

Why on earth can't love really be unconditional? Isn't that the point? Mother Theresa once said (and I'm totally paraphrasing) 'I have finally understood the paradox that if I love until it hurts, there is no hurt but only love.'

Happy New Year!

T's sister got engaged on New Year's Eve. She has sent out a picture of her finger:

I bet she's totally freaking out. She's almost 40, it is her fist engagement and she has been living with this man (it will be his second marriage) for a couple years.

In other news, I'm reading a fantastic book: 'Will in the World' by Stephen Greenblat.