Monday, April 06, 2009
Monday, February 27, 2006
Today: Aftermath.
This past week was really hard. I got a cold, I had two friends visiting and all kinds of strange complications arose.
I know I'm being cryptic, and there are reasons for that. I'll leave with this:
An open letter to three people:
I know that it's hard. It's hard for me, too. And though I have really strong feelings about this, I know it's best not to share them and cause bigger issues. I've tried this week to be as honest as possible, and sometimes, i've shown my hand before it was appropriate. I just hope that now steps can be taken to make our relationship what it needs to be, and if that means walking away--which I'm pretty sure it needn't, we know what to do. I will always want you here, but I know I can't have everything the way I want it--and this week made me realize how much I daydream. I'm sorry I hurt you. I'm hurting pretty badly, too.
Love,
M
This past week was really hard. I got a cold, I had two friends visiting and all kinds of strange complications arose.
I know I'm being cryptic, and there are reasons for that. I'll leave with this:
An open letter to three people:
I know that it's hard. It's hard for me, too. And though I have really strong feelings about this, I know it's best not to share them and cause bigger issues. I've tried this week to be as honest as possible, and sometimes, i've shown my hand before it was appropriate. I just hope that now steps can be taken to make our relationship what it needs to be, and if that means walking away--which I'm pretty sure it needn't, we know what to do. I will always want you here, but I know I can't have everything the way I want it--and this week made me realize how much I daydream. I'm sorry I hurt you. I'm hurting pretty badly, too.
Love,
M
Friday, February 24, 2006
Today: A small scene from a movie.
INT: Matt’s Party
Cut to: Matt eating cake.
Cut to: Matt looking around, upset.
MATT: But, but…I wanted to have it, too!
Fade to black.
I'm sorry. To everyone.
INT: Matt’s Party
Cut to: Matt eating cake.
Cut to: Matt looking around, upset.
MATT: But, but…I wanted to have it, too!
Fade to black.
I'm sorry. To everyone.
Saturday, February 11, 2006
Today: Home again (You didn’t even know I was gone, did you!)
Okay, so here’s the deal. This past week I’ve been out of town. First, driving to Memphis, TN, then to Ft. Lauderdale, FL. It’s been enlightening and relaxing, for the most part. Here’s a re-cap.
Wednesday night: While on a rather intense caffeine-high, I find out that I’m leaving for this whole adventure a whole day early. Panic sets in as I arrange for a replacement at work on Friday and get my other chores done by other people (this includes laundry and dishes—thank you Jonathan and Jimmy). I talk far too long with Evan on the phone about just about everything—sounding something like a coked-out philosopher mixed with a 10 year old sociologist.
Thursday: Went to work, like any other day, then came home having found the dishes and the laundry done (thanks again, minions) and re-clothed for a rehearsal, a party and a 14 hour drive. Made my way downtown, met up with Jonathan and John, had rehearsal, which was good, then went to this party at Sala that my friend Nat was partially promoting. It was cool, but the people were kind of snobby. I’m glad I wore my cowboy hat. That’ll show ‘em. Then Jimmy picked me up and we started the drive.
Jimmy drives the first leg: ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ
Wake up: 6am Friday morning: my turn to drive. Drove to Roanoke, VA, hopefully to meet up with our friend Marisa, but alas, she thought, like me, that we were going to be breezing through the NEXT morning. Oh, well. We ate breakfast in a quaint little greasy spoon and then pushed on—not before I bought a little something called ‘chow chow’ that I’ll try to implement in my cooking in these next weeks. The people in Virginia are warm, even though the accent in Roanoke is really heavy.
Jimmy drives again: ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ
Wake up: 2:30pm, Friday: My turn to drive. Drove through a bunch of TN. Nothing interesting to report, although I exhausted my tolerance for show-tunes during this first day of the trip. Bad sign. We switch again about 3 hours later.
Jimmy drives us into the ghetto—I mean, Memphis! We get kind of lost in and around Memphis several times over the course of the next few days. For a small city, they have very few signs and the ones they do have make little to no sense. I mean, there is this road, the 55, and at one point it splits off into 3 different roads, all named 55: 55East, 55North, 55 South…funny thing, though, none of them GO the directions they purport to go. Anyway we finally found our hotel, which was trashy. Don’t stay at the Super 8 outside of Memphis. It’s gross. The first room we had had bad lights in the bathroom and a leaking faucet and smelled of…well, decay. They ‘upgraded’ us to a room that was slightly less horrible, but Jimmy and I vowed that we’d find better digs for our next audition experiences—sorry, Gordon, you’re not allowed to make travel plans for the rest of us. Jimmy and I decided to find food, so we drove to down town Memphis. I asked the attendant at the parking garage where we might find Vegetarian food, and she gave me a look that could have suggested I had asked ‘where do you go if you like to eat aborted fetus?’ I was not at home in Memphis. After walking for a while, and asking around we had dinner at I think it was the Paradise Café, though I’ll be corrected as soon as I figure out what it really is. It was on Beale st. The food was alright. I had vegetarian lasagna that was huge and a salad that was huge. There was live music, which was decent. And then a guy at the table next to us started smoking. It was so tacky and classless. I mean, yeah, I understand that the laws down there are from the bronze age, but, Jesus—there are people performing there, don’t they deserve a clean working environment? I just don’t understand those allowances. After that, we went to the Peabody center—a mall that serves as the cultural center of Memphis. Blah, I’ll stop bashing it in a minute, I promise. I was just really unimpressed with this place—a place that’s supposedly really musical—I don’t know, I guess I expected to feel I was among friends, not a complete outsider. I was in tower records and asked a rather punky kid where I might find a coffee shop, and he said, not knowing he was condemning Memphis to “SUCKS” status, that there was a Starbucks upstairs.
Jimmy had by this point gotten ill from something he ate at the smoky restaurant.
We went home, Jimmy picked up Gordon and then I fell soundly asleep.
Saturday: We tried to use Saturday as a day to find something we liked about Memphis. We visited with Gordon’s friend from Springer Opera House, I helped her with her monologues and then went to find where the UPTA auditions were being held. It was another ‘getting lost in Memphis wishes it was fun’ moment. We finally found the place, 4 miles outside of the city proper, and then went home. I took a nap and then jimmy and I went to find food. Luckily we found probably the only sushi restaurant in Memphis and ate like pigs. It was a really great moment. We went home and fell soundly asleep (after picking out outfits for the next day and being silly about ironing).
Sunday: Auditions went well. Lots of call-backs for me, a few for Jimmy and Gordon, due to his Union membership, had none. I felt bad, but I was too busy to really do anything about it. The set-up was similar to a lot of these that I’ve been to, so I really wasn’t worried. I ran into a BUNCH of people I knew and it was really awesome to see them. I also made a few new friends, which was cool. We left after the auditions, packed our stuff, and moved drove off.
Jimmy takes first leg: ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ
I woke up about 7am and drove for several hours. We stopped in Orlando for food and saw my friend Tyson. I love him. He looks great and seems very happy with how his life is going. I wish we stayed in better touch.
Then we drove to Ft. Laud. It was a pretty easy drive, though we didn’t get in until 9:30. Mark’s new house is nice and Paul seems healthy.
The first night, we had dinner and then went back to Mark and Paul’s house to sleep. It was so nice to sleep not in a car—even if it was on an air mattress. The next morning, we went out to South Beach, which was lovely. We had lunch at Cafeteria—an offshoot of a New York restaurant. I have to say I like the Miami one better: more space, and the al fresco dining provides great people watching—the boys in Miami are succulent. We then walked the beach—well, I walked the beach, the other two hung out somewhere for a couple hours. It was a warm day and I think I got a little sun. Then we went home, changed and went first to dinner, then saw Capote, which was amazing. Phillip Seymore Hoffman deserves the Oscar.
The next day we met up with Mark’s (and now my) friend Melissa for lunch at this Mexican place, and then I joined her in picking up her daughter Nichole and taking her to a go-see for a photo shoot. I was asked if I could do yoga—which, um, yes, I can do—and was invited to be photographed for the shoot. We’ll see how that goes. I may be in Key West in another week.
Anyhoo, we then went home, I love Nichole, I was dropped off at Marks, and we went to Miami again to get dinner before seeing Verechai with Cirque du Soleil. We were originally supposed to go to this Brazilian grille place that serves all kinds of meats on sticks—obviously something I would be into, right? Well, they were supposed to have this grand vegetarian buffet as well, but we got there and for upwards of like 30 dollars, I was expected to eat off a really plain and quite poorly appointed salad bar—with nothing warm that was vegetarian. FUCK THAT. We left, which I know disappointed Mark, who had had his heart set on showing this place to Jimmy—though I know they’ll go back at some point. We ended up at this Italian place near the Cirque tents. The food was fine—if the portions were a little on the small side.
Then we went to Cirque—it was great. I mean, I think the lack of cohesive story kind of bugs me, I have to admit, but the people are so skillful and so dramatic that it almost makes up for that problem. It’s really a beautiful production, though, and I really wish I was a trapeze artist.
Then we went home and the next morning I got on a plane at 6am to get to work on time. The day was hell, and though I made good money, I was exhausted and kind of scatterbrained all day.
So that’s my week away. It went well, and we’ll see what comes of the auditions I went on, and I’ll see how long I can stand not being in a hot environment—I’m kind of living vacation to vacation lately. But it’s worth it. I work hard, I deserve it.
Okay, so here’s the deal. This past week I’ve been out of town. First, driving to Memphis, TN, then to Ft. Lauderdale, FL. It’s been enlightening and relaxing, for the most part. Here’s a re-cap.
Wednesday night: While on a rather intense caffeine-high, I find out that I’m leaving for this whole adventure a whole day early. Panic sets in as I arrange for a replacement at work on Friday and get my other chores done by other people (this includes laundry and dishes—thank you Jonathan and Jimmy). I talk far too long with Evan on the phone about just about everything—sounding something like a coked-out philosopher mixed with a 10 year old sociologist.
Thursday: Went to work, like any other day, then came home having found the dishes and the laundry done (thanks again, minions) and re-clothed for a rehearsal, a party and a 14 hour drive. Made my way downtown, met up with Jonathan and John, had rehearsal, which was good, then went to this party at Sala that my friend Nat was partially promoting. It was cool, but the people were kind of snobby. I’m glad I wore my cowboy hat. That’ll show ‘em. Then Jimmy picked me up and we started the drive.
Jimmy drives the first leg: ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ
Wake up: 6am Friday morning: my turn to drive. Drove to Roanoke, VA, hopefully to meet up with our friend Marisa, but alas, she thought, like me, that we were going to be breezing through the NEXT morning. Oh, well. We ate breakfast in a quaint little greasy spoon and then pushed on—not before I bought a little something called ‘chow chow’ that I’ll try to implement in my cooking in these next weeks. The people in Virginia are warm, even though the accent in Roanoke is really heavy.
Jimmy drives again: ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ
Wake up: 2:30pm, Friday: My turn to drive. Drove through a bunch of TN. Nothing interesting to report, although I exhausted my tolerance for show-tunes during this first day of the trip. Bad sign. We switch again about 3 hours later.
Jimmy drives us into the ghetto—I mean, Memphis! We get kind of lost in and around Memphis several times over the course of the next few days. For a small city, they have very few signs and the ones they do have make little to no sense. I mean, there is this road, the 55, and at one point it splits off into 3 different roads, all named 55: 55East, 55North, 55 South…funny thing, though, none of them GO the directions they purport to go. Anyway we finally found our hotel, which was trashy. Don’t stay at the Super 8 outside of Memphis. It’s gross. The first room we had had bad lights in the bathroom and a leaking faucet and smelled of…well, decay. They ‘upgraded’ us to a room that was slightly less horrible, but Jimmy and I vowed that we’d find better digs for our next audition experiences—sorry, Gordon, you’re not allowed to make travel plans for the rest of us. Jimmy and I decided to find food, so we drove to down town Memphis. I asked the attendant at the parking garage where we might find Vegetarian food, and she gave me a look that could have suggested I had asked ‘where do you go if you like to eat aborted fetus?’ I was not at home in Memphis. After walking for a while, and asking around we had dinner at I think it was the Paradise Café, though I’ll be corrected as soon as I figure out what it really is. It was on Beale st. The food was alright. I had vegetarian lasagna that was huge and a salad that was huge. There was live music, which was decent. And then a guy at the table next to us started smoking. It was so tacky and classless. I mean, yeah, I understand that the laws down there are from the bronze age, but, Jesus—there are people performing there, don’t they deserve a clean working environment? I just don’t understand those allowances. After that, we went to the Peabody center—a mall that serves as the cultural center of Memphis. Blah, I’ll stop bashing it in a minute, I promise. I was just really unimpressed with this place—a place that’s supposedly really musical—I don’t know, I guess I expected to feel I was among friends, not a complete outsider. I was in tower records and asked a rather punky kid where I might find a coffee shop, and he said, not knowing he was condemning Memphis to “SUCKS” status, that there was a Starbucks upstairs.
Jimmy had by this point gotten ill from something he ate at the smoky restaurant.
We went home, Jimmy picked up Gordon and then I fell soundly asleep.
Saturday: We tried to use Saturday as a day to find something we liked about Memphis. We visited with Gordon’s friend from Springer Opera House, I helped her with her monologues and then went to find where the UPTA auditions were being held. It was another ‘getting lost in Memphis wishes it was fun’ moment. We finally found the place, 4 miles outside of the city proper, and then went home. I took a nap and then jimmy and I went to find food. Luckily we found probably the only sushi restaurant in Memphis and ate like pigs. It was a really great moment. We went home and fell soundly asleep (after picking out outfits for the next day and being silly about ironing).
Sunday: Auditions went well. Lots of call-backs for me, a few for Jimmy and Gordon, due to his Union membership, had none. I felt bad, but I was too busy to really do anything about it. The set-up was similar to a lot of these that I’ve been to, so I really wasn’t worried. I ran into a BUNCH of people I knew and it was really awesome to see them. I also made a few new friends, which was cool. We left after the auditions, packed our stuff, and moved drove off.
Jimmy takes first leg: ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ
I woke up about 7am and drove for several hours. We stopped in Orlando for food and saw my friend Tyson. I love him. He looks great and seems very happy with how his life is going. I wish we stayed in better touch.
Then we drove to Ft. Laud. It was a pretty easy drive, though we didn’t get in until 9:30. Mark’s new house is nice and Paul seems healthy.
The first night, we had dinner and then went back to Mark and Paul’s house to sleep. It was so nice to sleep not in a car—even if it was on an air mattress. The next morning, we went out to South Beach, which was lovely. We had lunch at Cafeteria—an offshoot of a New York restaurant. I have to say I like the Miami one better: more space, and the al fresco dining provides great people watching—the boys in Miami are succulent. We then walked the beach—well, I walked the beach, the other two hung out somewhere for a couple hours. It was a warm day and I think I got a little sun. Then we went home, changed and went first to dinner, then saw Capote, which was amazing. Phillip Seymore Hoffman deserves the Oscar.
The next day we met up with Mark’s (and now my) friend Melissa for lunch at this Mexican place, and then I joined her in picking up her daughter Nichole and taking her to a go-see for a photo shoot. I was asked if I could do yoga—which, um, yes, I can do—and was invited to be photographed for the shoot. We’ll see how that goes. I may be in Key West in another week.
Anyhoo, we then went home, I love Nichole, I was dropped off at Marks, and we went to Miami again to get dinner before seeing Verechai with Cirque du Soleil. We were originally supposed to go to this Brazilian grille place that serves all kinds of meats on sticks—obviously something I would be into, right? Well, they were supposed to have this grand vegetarian buffet as well, but we got there and for upwards of like 30 dollars, I was expected to eat off a really plain and quite poorly appointed salad bar—with nothing warm that was vegetarian. FUCK THAT. We left, which I know disappointed Mark, who had had his heart set on showing this place to Jimmy—though I know they’ll go back at some point. We ended up at this Italian place near the Cirque tents. The food was fine—if the portions were a little on the small side.
Then we went to Cirque—it was great. I mean, I think the lack of cohesive story kind of bugs me, I have to admit, but the people are so skillful and so dramatic that it almost makes up for that problem. It’s really a beautiful production, though, and I really wish I was a trapeze artist.
Then we went home and the next morning I got on a plane at 6am to get to work on time. The day was hell, and though I made good money, I was exhausted and kind of scatterbrained all day.
So that’s my week away. It went well, and we’ll see what comes of the auditions I went on, and I’ll see how long I can stand not being in a hot environment—I’m kind of living vacation to vacation lately. But it’s worth it. I work hard, I deserve it.
Today: Home again (You didn’t even know I was gone, did you!)
Okay, so here’s the deal. This past week I’ve been out of town. First, driving to Memphis, TN, then to Ft. Lauderdale, FL. It’s been enlightening and relaxing, for the most part. Here’s a re-cap.
Wednesday night: While on a rather intense caffeine-high, I find out that I’m leaving for this whole adventure a whole day early. Panic sets in as I arrange for a replacement at work on Friday and get my other chores done by other people (this includes laundry and dishes—thank you Jonathan and Jimmy). I talk far too long with Evan on the phone about just about everything—sounding something like a coked-out philosopher mixed with a 10 year old sociologist.
Thursday: Went to work, like any other day, then came home having found the dishes and the laundry done (thanks again, minions) and re-clothed for a rehearsal, a party and a 14 hour drive. Made my way downtown, met up with Jonathan and John, had rehearsal, which was good, then went to this party at Sala that my friend Nat was partially promoting. It was cool, but the people were kind of snobby. I’m glad I wore my cowboy hat. That’ll show ‘em. Then Jimmy picked me up and we started the drive.
Jimmy drives the first leg: ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ
Wake up: 6am Friday morning: my turn to drive. Drove to Roanoke, VA, hopefully to meet up with our friend Marisa, but alas, she thought, like me, that we were going to be breezing through the NEXT morning. Oh, well. We ate breakfast in a quaint little greasy spoon and then pushed on—not before I bought a little something called ‘chow chow’ that I’ll try to implement in my cooking in these next weeks. The people in Virginia are warm, even though the accent in Roanoke is really heavy.
Jimmy drives again: ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ
Wake up: 2:30pm, Friday: My turn to drive. Drove through a bunch of TN. Nothing interesting to report, although I exhausted my tolerance for show-tunes during this first day of the trip. Bad sign. We switch again about 3 hours later.
Jimmy drives us into the ghetto—I mean, Memphis! We get kind of lost in and around Memphis several times over the course of the next few days. For a small city, they have very few signs and the ones they do have make little to no sense. I mean, there is this road, the 55, and at one point it splits off into 3 different roads, all named 55: 55East, 55North, 55 South…funny thing, though, none of them GO the directions they purport to go. Anyway we finally found our hotel, which was trashy. Don’t stay at the Super 8 outside of Memphis. It’s gross. The first room we had had bad lights in the bathroom and a leaking faucet and smelled of…well, decay. They ‘upgraded’ us to a room that was slightly less horrible, but Jimmy and I vowed that we’d find better digs for our next audition experiences—sorry, Gordon, you’re not allowed to make travel plans for the rest of us. Jimmy and I decided to find food, so we drove to down town Memphis. I asked the attendant at the parking garage where we might find Vegetarian food, and she gave me a look that could have suggested I had asked ‘where do you go if you like to eat aborted fetus?’ I was not at home in Memphis. After walking for a while, and asking around we had dinner at I think it was the Paradise Café, though I’ll be corrected as soon as I figure out what it really is. It was on Beale st. The food was alright. I had vegetarian lasagna that was huge and a salad that was huge. There was live music, which was decent. And then a guy at the table next to us started smoking. It was so tacky and classless. I mean, yeah, I understand that the laws down there are from the bronze age, but, Jesus—there are people performing there, don’t they deserve a clean working environment? I just don’t understand those allowances. After that, we went to the Peabody center—a mall that serves as the cultural center of Memphis. Blah, I’ll stop bashing it in a minute, I promise. I was just really unimpressed with this place—a place that’s supposedly really musical—I don’t know, I guess I expected to feel I was among friends, not a complete outsider. I was in tower records and asked a rather punky kid where I might find a coffee shop, and he said, not knowing he was condemning Memphis to “SUCKS” status, that there was a Starbucks upstairs.
Jimmy had by this point gotten ill from something he ate at the smoky restaurant.
We went home, Jimmy picked up Gordon and then I fell soundly asleep.
Saturday: We tried to use Saturday as a day to find something we liked about Memphis. We visited with Gordon’s friend from Springer Opera House, I helped her with her monologues and then went to find where the UPTA auditions were being held. It was another ‘getting lost in Memphis wishes it was fun’ moment. We finally found the place, 4 miles outside of the city proper, and then went home. I took a nap and then jimmy and I went to find food. Luckily we found probably the only sushi restaurant in Memphis and ate like pigs. It was a really great moment. We went home and fell soundly asleep (after picking out outfits for the next day and being silly about ironing).
Sunday: Auditions went well. Lots of call-backs for me, a few for Jimmy and Gordon, due to his Union membership, had none. I felt bad, but I was too busy to really do anything about it. The set-up was similar to a lot of these that I’ve been to, so I really wasn’t worried. I ran into a BUNCH of people I knew and it was really awesome to see them. I also made a few new friends, which was cool. We left after the auditions, packed our stuff, and moved drove off.
Jimmy takes first leg: ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ
I woke up about 7am and drove for several hours. We stopped in Orlando for food and saw my friend Tyson. I love him. He looks great and seems very happy with how his life is going. I wish we stayed in better touch.
Then we drove to Ft. Laud. It was a pretty easy drive, though we didn’t get in until 9:30. Mark’s new house is nice and Paul seems healthy.
The first night, we had dinner and then went back to Mark and Paul’s house to sleep. It was so nice to sleep not in a car—even if it was on an air mattress. The next morning, we went out to South Beach, which was lovely. We had lunch at Cafeteria—an offshoot of a New York restaurant. I have to say I like the Miami one better: more space, and the al fresco dining provides great people watching—the boys in Miami are succulent. We then walked the beach—well, I walked the beach, the other two hung out somewhere for a couple hours. It was a warm day and I think I got a little sun. Then we went home, changed and went first to dinner, then saw Capote, which was amazing. Phillip Seymore Hoffman deserves the Oscar.
The next day we met up with Mark’s (and now my) friend Melissa for lunch at this Mexican place, and then I joined her in picking up her daughter Nichole and taking her to a go-see for a photo shoot. I was asked if I could do yoga—which, um, yes, I can do—and was invited to be photographed for the shoot. We’ll see how that goes. I may be in Key West in another week.
Anyhoo, we then went home, I love Nichole, I was dropped off at Marks, and we went to Miami again to get dinner before seeing Verechai with Cirque du Soleil. We were originally supposed to go to this Brazilian grille place that serves all kinds of meats on sticks—obviously something I would be into, right? Well, they were supposed to have this grand vegetarian buffet as well, but we got there and for upwards of like 30 dollars, I was expected to eat off a really plain and quite poorly appointed salad bar—with nothing warm that was vegetarian. FUCK THAT. We left, which I know disappointed Mark, who had had his heart set on showing this place to Jimmy—though I know they’ll go back at some point. We ended up at this Italian place near the Cirque tents. The food was fine—if the portions were a little on the small side.
Then we went to Cirque—it was great. I mean, I think the lack of cohesive story kind of bugs me, I have to admit, but the people are so skillful and so dramatic that it almost makes up for that problem. It’s really a beautiful production, though, and I really wish I was a trapeze artist.
Then we went home and the next morning I got on a plane at 6am to get to work on time. The day was hell, and though I made good money, I was exhausted and kind of scatterbrained all day.
So that’s my week away. It went well, and we’ll see what comes of the auditions I went on, and I’ll see how long I can stand not being in a hot environment—I’m kind of living vacation to vacation lately. But it’s worth it. I work hard, I deserve it.
Okay, so here’s the deal. This past week I’ve been out of town. First, driving to Memphis, TN, then to Ft. Lauderdale, FL. It’s been enlightening and relaxing, for the most part. Here’s a re-cap.
Wednesday night: While on a rather intense caffeine-high, I find out that I’m leaving for this whole adventure a whole day early. Panic sets in as I arrange for a replacement at work on Friday and get my other chores done by other people (this includes laundry and dishes—thank you Jonathan and Jimmy). I talk far too long with Evan on the phone about just about everything—sounding something like a coked-out philosopher mixed with a 10 year old sociologist.
Thursday: Went to work, like any other day, then came home having found the dishes and the laundry done (thanks again, minions) and re-clothed for a rehearsal, a party and a 14 hour drive. Made my way downtown, met up with Jonathan and John, had rehearsal, which was good, then went to this party at Sala that my friend Nat was partially promoting. It was cool, but the people were kind of snobby. I’m glad I wore my cowboy hat. That’ll show ‘em. Then Jimmy picked me up and we started the drive.
Jimmy drives the first leg: ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ
Wake up: 6am Friday morning: my turn to drive. Drove to Roanoke, VA, hopefully to meet up with our friend Marisa, but alas, she thought, like me, that we were going to be breezing through the NEXT morning. Oh, well. We ate breakfast in a quaint little greasy spoon and then pushed on—not before I bought a little something called ‘chow chow’ that I’ll try to implement in my cooking in these next weeks. The people in Virginia are warm, even though the accent in Roanoke is really heavy.
Jimmy drives again: ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ
Wake up: 2:30pm, Friday: My turn to drive. Drove through a bunch of TN. Nothing interesting to report, although I exhausted my tolerance for show-tunes during this first day of the trip. Bad sign. We switch again about 3 hours later.
Jimmy drives us into the ghetto—I mean, Memphis! We get kind of lost in and around Memphis several times over the course of the next few days. For a small city, they have very few signs and the ones they do have make little to no sense. I mean, there is this road, the 55, and at one point it splits off into 3 different roads, all named 55: 55East, 55North, 55 South…funny thing, though, none of them GO the directions they purport to go. Anyway we finally found our hotel, which was trashy. Don’t stay at the Super 8 outside of Memphis. It’s gross. The first room we had had bad lights in the bathroom and a leaking faucet and smelled of…well, decay. They ‘upgraded’ us to a room that was slightly less horrible, but Jimmy and I vowed that we’d find better digs for our next audition experiences—sorry, Gordon, you’re not allowed to make travel plans for the rest of us. Jimmy and I decided to find food, so we drove to down town Memphis. I asked the attendant at the parking garage where we might find Vegetarian food, and she gave me a look that could have suggested I had asked ‘where do you go if you like to eat aborted fetus?’ I was not at home in Memphis. After walking for a while, and asking around we had dinner at I think it was the Paradise Café, though I’ll be corrected as soon as I figure out what it really is. It was on Beale st. The food was alright. I had vegetarian lasagna that was huge and a salad that was huge. There was live music, which was decent. And then a guy at the table next to us started smoking. It was so tacky and classless. I mean, yeah, I understand that the laws down there are from the bronze age, but, Jesus—there are people performing there, don’t they deserve a clean working environment? I just don’t understand those allowances. After that, we went to the Peabody center—a mall that serves as the cultural center of Memphis. Blah, I’ll stop bashing it in a minute, I promise. I was just really unimpressed with this place—a place that’s supposedly really musical—I don’t know, I guess I expected to feel I was among friends, not a complete outsider. I was in tower records and asked a rather punky kid where I might find a coffee shop, and he said, not knowing he was condemning Memphis to “SUCKS” status, that there was a Starbucks upstairs.
Jimmy had by this point gotten ill from something he ate at the smoky restaurant.
We went home, Jimmy picked up Gordon and then I fell soundly asleep.
Saturday: We tried to use Saturday as a day to find something we liked about Memphis. We visited with Gordon’s friend from Springer Opera House, I helped her with her monologues and then went to find where the UPTA auditions were being held. It was another ‘getting lost in Memphis wishes it was fun’ moment. We finally found the place, 4 miles outside of the city proper, and then went home. I took a nap and then jimmy and I went to find food. Luckily we found probably the only sushi restaurant in Memphis and ate like pigs. It was a really great moment. We went home and fell soundly asleep (after picking out outfits for the next day and being silly about ironing).
Sunday: Auditions went well. Lots of call-backs for me, a few for Jimmy and Gordon, due to his Union membership, had none. I felt bad, but I was too busy to really do anything about it. The set-up was similar to a lot of these that I’ve been to, so I really wasn’t worried. I ran into a BUNCH of people I knew and it was really awesome to see them. I also made a few new friends, which was cool. We left after the auditions, packed our stuff, and moved drove off.
Jimmy takes first leg: ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ
I woke up about 7am and drove for several hours. We stopped in Orlando for food and saw my friend Tyson. I love him. He looks great and seems very happy with how his life is going. I wish we stayed in better touch.
Then we drove to Ft. Laud. It was a pretty easy drive, though we didn’t get in until 9:30. Mark’s new house is nice and Paul seems healthy.
The first night, we had dinner and then went back to Mark and Paul’s house to sleep. It was so nice to sleep not in a car—even if it was on an air mattress. The next morning, we went out to South Beach, which was lovely. We had lunch at Cafeteria—an offshoot of a New York restaurant. I have to say I like the Miami one better: more space, and the al fresco dining provides great people watching—the boys in Miami are succulent. We then walked the beach—well, I walked the beach, the other two hung out somewhere for a couple hours. It was a warm day and I think I got a little sun. Then we went home, changed and went first to dinner, then saw Capote, which was amazing. Phillip Seymore Hoffman deserves the Oscar.
The next day we met up with Mark’s (and now my) friend Melissa for lunch at this Mexican place, and then I joined her in picking up her daughter Nichole and taking her to a go-see for a photo shoot. I was asked if I could do yoga—which, um, yes, I can do—and was invited to be photographed for the shoot. We’ll see how that goes. I may be in Key West in another week.
Anyhoo, we then went home, I love Nichole, I was dropped off at Marks, and we went to Miami again to get dinner before seeing Verechai with Cirque du Soleil. We were originally supposed to go to this Brazilian grille place that serves all kinds of meats on sticks—obviously something I would be into, right? Well, they were supposed to have this grand vegetarian buffet as well, but we got there and for upwards of like 30 dollars, I was expected to eat off a really plain and quite poorly appointed salad bar—with nothing warm that was vegetarian. FUCK THAT. We left, which I know disappointed Mark, who had had his heart set on showing this place to Jimmy—though I know they’ll go back at some point. We ended up at this Italian place near the Cirque tents. The food was fine—if the portions were a little on the small side.
Then we went to Cirque—it was great. I mean, I think the lack of cohesive story kind of bugs me, I have to admit, but the people are so skillful and so dramatic that it almost makes up for that problem. It’s really a beautiful production, though, and I really wish I was a trapeze artist.
Then we went home and the next morning I got on a plane at 6am to get to work on time. The day was hell, and though I made good money, I was exhausted and kind of scatterbrained all day.
So that’s my week away. It went well, and we’ll see what comes of the auditions I went on, and I’ll see how long I can stand not being in a hot environment—I’m kind of living vacation to vacation lately. But it’s worth it. I work hard, I deserve it.
Wednesday, February 01, 2006
Today: You only meant well? …Well, of course you did.
Okay, so yesterday’s blog was a little angry, and a little off-point on the whole ‘you’re making poor people have babies so that they will be your slaves’ thing.
I’m still upset. The Supreme Court is full of assholes; Congress is full of assholes; The White House is like asshole-central—I just don’t know what to say anymore.
Jimmy tells me that it’s just part of the process. That this will eventually all turn out okay—given the activism of people on both sides trying to get what they want.
I just want control over myself. I want to be able to love who I love, sleep with who I want to sleep with and tell the world when it happens for me. It’s a personal dream of mine to wake up one morning and have nothing to complain about but that I burnt the toast. Is that so bad? I guess so.
And my female friends? I want you to be able to choose your destiny. I want you to have all the options afforded to you that an enlightened society provides. I want you to be able to choose when to bring a child into this world. I dream of a day when no one asks ‘what would you do if you got pregnant?’ Knowing that the answer is personal, and no one can judge anyone for what they’d do. In short, I want a safer America for dreams.
At present, no dreams are safe.
The Christians are saying we’re destroying their dream of a white-washed corporate America where everyone is slave to the Cross and the dollar. But that’s what they’re getting.
I say my dreams are being eroded by the actions of purposefully ignorant people and money hungry megalomaniacs and autocrats.
Will I ever stop being angry? Will it ever get better? I don’t know. I just know we’re in a shitty place—and I don’t see the light at the top of the hole anymore.
Okay, so yesterday’s blog was a little angry, and a little off-point on the whole ‘you’re making poor people have babies so that they will be your slaves’ thing.
I’m still upset. The Supreme Court is full of assholes; Congress is full of assholes; The White House is like asshole-central—I just don’t know what to say anymore.
Jimmy tells me that it’s just part of the process. That this will eventually all turn out okay—given the activism of people on both sides trying to get what they want.
I just want control over myself. I want to be able to love who I love, sleep with who I want to sleep with and tell the world when it happens for me. It’s a personal dream of mine to wake up one morning and have nothing to complain about but that I burnt the toast. Is that so bad? I guess so.
And my female friends? I want you to be able to choose your destiny. I want you to have all the options afforded to you that an enlightened society provides. I want you to be able to choose when to bring a child into this world. I dream of a day when no one asks ‘what would you do if you got pregnant?’ Knowing that the answer is personal, and no one can judge anyone for what they’d do. In short, I want a safer America for dreams.
At present, no dreams are safe.
The Christians are saying we’re destroying their dream of a white-washed corporate America where everyone is slave to the Cross and the dollar. But that’s what they’re getting.
I say my dreams are being eroded by the actions of purposefully ignorant people and money hungry megalomaniacs and autocrats.
Will I ever stop being angry? Will it ever get better? I don’t know. I just know we’re in a shitty place—and I don’t see the light at the top of the hole anymore.
Today: I see that there is evil— but I know that there is good.
So, Alito was confirmed. Fucker. I know this is going to end up in my FBI file, but there are serious reasons for a higher criminal mortality rate in the US government at this point—if you catch my drift.
I mean, for fucks sake, they all but say that we should be killed, they hate abortion doctors, they hate single mothers, they hate homosexual—and from how people are treated in the criminal justice system in this country, it’s easy to see where the sentiment is. They slap the murderers of planned-parenthood doctors on the wrist, but they race to kill as many poor, minority criminals as they can—especially handy if they’re retarded or can’t afford to defend themselves. They go for the second highest execution rate in the WORLD as if it’s a competition—BUT by all means, let’s save the babies. The babies. The *sob* *sniff* babies.
Let’s let alone any ‘moral’ or even ethical debate on what’s a live person, for a moment let’s just be civil. Let’s just be realistic.
FUCK THE BABIES. We don’t need any more mouths to feed in this country. Save the live people. Save the poor. Save the people living in trailer parks and the ghettos. Give them hundreds of condoms if necessary. Give them free morning-after pills with breakfasts at McDonalds. It sounds ridiculous, I know, but, fuck, give them a chance. Don’t load them down with babies who will keep them poor. You want birth control unavailable because it will give you cheap labor and we won’t have to farm in Mexicans and Filipinos anymore; we’ll have millions of our own poor—that way we can take over those countries like we’ve always wanted to without worry what will happen to the economy. Whoever said manifest destiny was dead? It’s just expanded to ‘pole to pole, sea to sea TO SEA—and back’)
Because you know what? The rich will always have abortions. Secretly, quietly, cleanly and safely: they will rid themselves of whatever problem they want weather it’s legal or not—they always have. It’s only the poor who suffer when there are restrictions made in the name of ‘morality’ that go against personal safety.
This isn’t a step backward in evolution or social welfare. It’s a step forward in the plot to turn the poor back into a work force capable of sustaining a self-contained labor machine for rich America. Kill the unions and take away things stopping the poor from unchecked population growth. So simple. So evil. So right-wing.
In other news, I wrote a TV show. Let’s hope it sells so I can have the platform and cultural capital to actually take on these assholes:)
So, Alito was confirmed. Fucker. I know this is going to end up in my FBI file, but there are serious reasons for a higher criminal mortality rate in the US government at this point—if you catch my drift.
I mean, for fucks sake, they all but say that we should be killed, they hate abortion doctors, they hate single mothers, they hate homosexual—and from how people are treated in the criminal justice system in this country, it’s easy to see where the sentiment is. They slap the murderers of planned-parenthood doctors on the wrist, but they race to kill as many poor, minority criminals as they can—especially handy if they’re retarded or can’t afford to defend themselves. They go for the second highest execution rate in the WORLD as if it’s a competition—BUT by all means, let’s save the babies. The babies. The *sob* *sniff* babies.
Let’s let alone any ‘moral’ or even ethical debate on what’s a live person, for a moment let’s just be civil. Let’s just be realistic.
FUCK THE BABIES. We don’t need any more mouths to feed in this country. Save the live people. Save the poor. Save the people living in trailer parks and the ghettos. Give them hundreds of condoms if necessary. Give them free morning-after pills with breakfasts at McDonalds. It sounds ridiculous, I know, but, fuck, give them a chance. Don’t load them down with babies who will keep them poor. You want birth control unavailable because it will give you cheap labor and we won’t have to farm in Mexicans and Filipinos anymore; we’ll have millions of our own poor—that way we can take over those countries like we’ve always wanted to without worry what will happen to the economy. Whoever said manifest destiny was dead? It’s just expanded to ‘pole to pole, sea to sea TO SEA—and back’)
Because you know what? The rich will always have abortions. Secretly, quietly, cleanly and safely: they will rid themselves of whatever problem they want weather it’s legal or not—they always have. It’s only the poor who suffer when there are restrictions made in the name of ‘morality’ that go against personal safety.
This isn’t a step backward in evolution or social welfare. It’s a step forward in the plot to turn the poor back into a work force capable of sustaining a self-contained labor machine for rich America. Kill the unions and take away things stopping the poor from unchecked population growth. So simple. So evil. So right-wing.
In other news, I wrote a TV show. Let’s hope it sells so I can have the platform and cultural capital to actually take on these assholes:)
Tuesday, January 31, 2006
Today: Philosophy
I’ve found my new personal theme-song. Ben Fold’s Five “Philosophy.” I’d just post the lyrics, but there’s so much about it that’s kind of uncannily fitting to my situation right now. It starts with a memory, and just builds into this…life—and as I was telling Evan last night, it’s like he’s taking my thoughts and converting them into a really good song that if I could write, I’d have written this week.
http://www.sing365.com/music/lyric.nsf/Philosophy-lyrics-Ben-Folds/ABC1B5F36725C3F148256DE9002E39D5
It’s weird. I feel, well, full. I have a full, full life. I don’t feel lonely at all (right this second). And that’s kind of weird. I find myself wanting to slip into the old patterns, but only out of lack of anything else to think of doing. But I don’t. I just kind of, well, do work. I guess that’s my philosophy: Right this second, I’m doing okay. It’s kind of like giving up an addiction. I was addicted to being kind of bad to myself, and now I’m trying to work that out.
I’ve found my new personal theme-song. Ben Fold’s Five “Philosophy.” I’d just post the lyrics, but there’s so much about it that’s kind of uncannily fitting to my situation right now. It starts with a memory, and just builds into this…life—and as I was telling Evan last night, it’s like he’s taking my thoughts and converting them into a really good song that if I could write, I’d have written this week.
http://www.sing365.com/music/lyric.nsf/Philosophy-lyrics-Ben-Folds/ABC1B5F36725C3F148256DE9002E39D5
It’s weird. I feel, well, full. I have a full, full life. I don’t feel lonely at all (right this second). And that’s kind of weird. I find myself wanting to slip into the old patterns, but only out of lack of anything else to think of doing. But I don’t. I just kind of, well, do work. I guess that’s my philosophy: Right this second, I’m doing okay. It’s kind of like giving up an addiction. I was addicted to being kind of bad to myself, and now I’m trying to work that out.
Tuesday, January 24, 2006
Today: Late to work.
As usual, I’ve taken my sweet time to get myself get into work. Oops. They won’t fire me, though, because they’re about to institute a policy that asks servers to come in a half an hour later than we were expected. Saves money on the times that we’re just standing around. Goody.
So, people are now asking where this rage comes from. My standard response is ‘have you read a newspaper in the last 20 years?’ But seriously, I just think it’s time for more people on our side to be angry and speak the fuck up. They have an army of loudmouths; we have…no one. And we’re always trying to play it safe and take the high road. Fuck the high road. My ethical superiority won’t feed my poor neighbors. My ethical superiority won’t get me the right to marry. My ethical superiority is completely impotent if I don’t bluster and rage on my blog every once in a while. Well, even then. It’s just one blog sitting here on the web…doing nothing.
I wish I had time to join one of the various groups that try actively to combat the right-wing terror machine, but unfortunately, I’m too busy being working poor, which, I know, is what they want.
“What do you know about politics?” Another friend asked me, following up with ‘sounds like a lot of opinions’ in reaction to some of my political blogging. You wanna tell me what in politics ISN’T opinion? I do my best only to read policy. I do my best only to read news stories that tell me what’s actually being entered into law, not just who says what at which political dinner. The person suggested I attended those sorts of meetings so I could ‘learn something’ about the political system. Pardon me, but I don’t think I’d learn anything from being talked down to or buttered up by a politician. It would, of course, figure that he’s a republican, this friend who said this, wouldn’t it?
So, yeah, invite me to dinner. Let me the fuck at them. Until then, I’m going to rant on my blog loudly enough for a few people to tell their friends, hopefully long enough to get someone important to see that I’m one of the millions of angry young people that knows we’re inheriting the last generation’s quagmire--maybe the worst one yet.
PS: It’s not a full time job being this angry, but it usually takes having a full time job that doesn’t pay all the bills.
As usual, I’ve taken my sweet time to get myself get into work. Oops. They won’t fire me, though, because they’re about to institute a policy that asks servers to come in a half an hour later than we were expected. Saves money on the times that we’re just standing around. Goody.
So, people are now asking where this rage comes from. My standard response is ‘have you read a newspaper in the last 20 years?’ But seriously, I just think it’s time for more people on our side to be angry and speak the fuck up. They have an army of loudmouths; we have…no one. And we’re always trying to play it safe and take the high road. Fuck the high road. My ethical superiority won’t feed my poor neighbors. My ethical superiority won’t get me the right to marry. My ethical superiority is completely impotent if I don’t bluster and rage on my blog every once in a while. Well, even then. It’s just one blog sitting here on the web…doing nothing.
I wish I had time to join one of the various groups that try actively to combat the right-wing terror machine, but unfortunately, I’m too busy being working poor, which, I know, is what they want.
“What do you know about politics?” Another friend asked me, following up with ‘sounds like a lot of opinions’ in reaction to some of my political blogging. You wanna tell me what in politics ISN’T opinion? I do my best only to read policy. I do my best only to read news stories that tell me what’s actually being entered into law, not just who says what at which political dinner. The person suggested I attended those sorts of meetings so I could ‘learn something’ about the political system. Pardon me, but I don’t think I’d learn anything from being talked down to or buttered up by a politician. It would, of course, figure that he’s a republican, this friend who said this, wouldn’t it?
So, yeah, invite me to dinner. Let me the fuck at them. Until then, I’m going to rant on my blog loudly enough for a few people to tell their friends, hopefully long enough to get someone important to see that I’m one of the millions of angry young people that knows we’re inheriting the last generation’s quagmire--maybe the worst one yet.
PS: It’s not a full time job being this angry, but it usually takes having a full time job that doesn’t pay all the bills.
