Another Closing of Another Show

Oh daddy, that fatso! Then he flew out the window, dirtied the ground below...

The play is finished, I start back to the normal bump and grind. I'm in a slight fear though. I have a research paper due on the 20th for my English class. I don't know how I am going to write it, but I will. It's ridiculous this work I get and can't do. Can't do all in time, it keeps coming and coming. I am trying, this is due, that is due...It's all DUE!

I kissed the cat, my daddies dead. I'm feeling fat, my mommies thin. Daddy is a winner, but we all fall down.

I usually look forward to going back to work, yet I don't tomorrow. Not at all. Not in the least. In fact it makes me very upset I am going back. My mother said I should quit next year. I think I will quit next year. Not next year but soon, very soon. It's too much. I'd sooner have no job.

College days...My best of friends had married men, with brains and money!

I went to a show in Brooklyn tonight called Yank! A new Musical. Not as dirty as it sounds. In fact it was a brilliant little piece of theater. I hope there can be success for it. It was nice to have a new musical that was REALLY good. Not for show. Like certain movie musicals that run Broadway.

Then the crash, there I said it! No more cash no more credit!

It also reminded me that I am not happy. This is how the progression of my mind worked. Leaving the school show, going to a small theater, seeing all these older gay men from the theater world. It all came to me. I shouldn't tell people about my job and feel horribly upset about it. I just shouldn't! Yet, that's how it starts all the time. "I am a financial printer...it's awful...picture the most boring job in the world and take away the lunch break."

On Wall Street these men stood. Then they flew out the window, right on the neighborhood...

That's how it always starts and plainly I'm getting sick of it. I'm getting tired of the mundane nonstop work. With no perks. They don't even buy us pizza when we're slammed, instead they just work and work and work us. Expecting us to be content. How exactly does that work? I ask you? The only reason I haven't had it is because I only work there three days a week. Yet, if that's enough to drive me nuts. Then really how can I make it through the summer? Oh yes, summer classes/possible internship. It's gotten to the point if they let me go I would shrug. A simple job would truly be nice.

I was young and he was rich! He made his pitch and we got married.

China first and then the future. China first. You can make it through China, of course you can. Actually, New Orleans first, China next.

He read books and I wore furs. First there's smoke, doom is brewing we went broke...

I don't remember if I've actually ever mentioned that for Thanksgiving I am going to New Orleans with some of my good friends. I'll be there for five days. I will not worry about anything. I don't care what papers or such are due. I won't really touch them, I don't plan on it.

I want to work in theatre, I don't care how. But I do know with this job I can no longer pretend it's helping me achieve my goal. It's only keeping me back.

Then he flew, then...then he flew. Dammit he used the doorway, left me for someone new...

It's odd how my mind works. I wanted to write about how I took the bus to the theater today and ran into a guy who I was going to sleep with, but never have. He was on a date/hookup. Who knows. We said hello, we were on the bus together. It couldn't be avoided. In my mind though I wanted to say, "I'm going to put on my ipod now. I am glad you're so busy to hang out you can go home with this guy and have dinner and watch a movie." Though, I didn't. Instead I laughed and joked. I can say though I looked good in my new coat (that I stole, more on that later) and my scarf. So though deep down inside he had the upper hand with his date/hookup and I was going to the theater alone. I looked good...Yes, tell yourself that and you'll feel better...right?

My daddy, friend's husbands they at least used the window! Credit where credits due! I wish mine died, then I wear black. I'd eat my pride and say I shoved him! Holy Christ I think I loved him!