An Uneventful Day

Sunday in The Park With George is wonderful. Jenna Russell and Daniel Evans really blow Mandy and Bernadette out of the water. I know, I know. They created the roles. Yet, I felt more in love with these two. The things they did with projections were amazing, truly incredible. As well as the show clicked for me more than ever before. And I've been with this show for years.

At intermission (I was with classmates) some people were saying how bored they were and I wanted to scream at them. If this is boring you, why are you going to school for theater? Sure it's a difficult musical I admit. I think the score is brilliant and the story is genius. What's difficult about the book is that if not understood it comes off as confusing and complex. Therefore leading people into boredom. Which is how some classmates reacted. The first act is the show, the second act is the reaction.

When Act II began, I just realized that all the complaints are addressed. How someone finds the story confusing is beyond me. "Who are all these characters?" Well if you listen you can easily tell. You do realize we are seeing a show based off the figures in a painting? That aside, I took away much more than some did. It was very brilliant.

Other than that I've been boring. Silent Hill Origins is becoming terrifying. I'm in an insane asylum and it scares me. Plus I'm trying not to cheat, which adds to the scariness.

I've been working my way through And The Band Played On. What a history lesson on ignorance and denial. I mean it makes sense sort of. A new virus appears and we don't want to jump to conclusions. At the end of the day though it was held for such a long time from the public because it was a GAY disease and for that I cannot forgive. The gay communities ignoring it I understand too. I would like to believe that I'm going to read about acts of bravery and going against the nation. Yet, I see terror and a refusal to believe that it could happen. Close down the bathhouses? No of course not, it's our sexual freedom! Well then, enjoy AIDS.

It's strange feeling the same emotions as some of the characters though. I will not fret until I have reason to. End of story really.

Picture-A-Day #30

quick shot at work before I go home

Picture-A-Day #029

Night of the Theater

Yesterday was a double header in theatrical events. First I saw Juno. Not anything to do with the movie. It's a dark Irish musical where anything that goes wrong does. A boy has lost his arm, a girl gets pregnant out of wedlock, a husband drinks to much and there's a NIGHTMARE Ballet. Which was actually very good for this minimal concert.


The real reason I wanted to see it is because it's a historical musical flop. I would like to clarify and say I don't LOVE flops, I just find them fascinating both historically and as disasters. Juno was not hard to see why it flopped. The score was very fresh for it's time. Rarely does one hear Irish musicals. Juno's Act I number The Song of the Ma was such a sweet and heart breaking number. Unfortunately after a while that Irish sound gets repetitious, but I believe it's because our ears aren't trained to hear the subtle differences.

The big issue it failed was the dark subject matter. They throw in the storyline of the money from a will, but most can see that not even that will end well. Victoria Clark was great. Celia Keenan Bolger was good too, but the music was a little higher than her range seemed comfortable with.

The later that night I got to see The Night of the Iguana at an off-off-Broadway theater. It was phenomenal. A very solid production and I am going to return to this theater again (this was my second Tennessee Williams show with them.) The set was so well done for a place that doesn't have much money. Especially when it started to rain!!! As well as the acting was spot on. I'll admit in the beginning I was nervous about Hannah Jelkes, I never pictured how her lines would sound being delivered in a Nantucket accent. Then it added a whole different level. Here you have this spinster who has lived in the old ways, but is holding on to her past and seems to have all the answers. In this prim and proper voice, but she has these moments of weakness. Truly wonderful show!

My only tiff was putting a giant Iguana tattoo on Maxine Faulk's back. Since the Iguana is the central metaphor of the show and there's the scene with the Iguana. There was no reason to do that with Maxine, because it mixes up the idea a little bit. Yet I got the idea the director was going for. So I forgive him.

Okay, time for some quick lunch and then Sunday in the Park With George.

Picture-A-Day #028

True there was no picture yesterday, but Patti made a killing in her revival of Gypsy! Brava La LuPone!!!

Picture-A-Day #027

The ocean that is become my hair is getting rough. Look at those waves.

Picture-A-Day #26

Kind of Blank

It's all blank so far. Perhaps that weekend home has drained me so much. I'm not 100% sure. I've been trying to assimilate myself back into video games. It's going much more successfully than when we tried with the Native Americans. I bought my first video game in over a year yesterday.

Yesterday was strange because nothing happened. I tried to go to The Tall Man's. Just for sex. That's all. He denied me. What happened to my sexual pull? Honestly, it's because he's become super busy. He is going away in two weeks across the world. He has to file his taxes. He has a lot of work. He has to find a roommate. Why hasn't he asked me? That's part serious, but mostly sarcasm.

Honestly, I do believe I'm a person who people can live with. I can be as social or antisocial as you treat me. When I think about living with the Tall Man, part of me wonders: Why doesn't he ask me if he's looking for a roommate? Then I realize I wouldn't be able to afford it (unless I had student loans, which I do) and I'd never go to the gym. Plus the room is furnished so many of my items would have to go. Plus I'd have to move in a week. Not possible, not possible at all. I say that now, but if he asked me tomorrow I'd probably say yes. I'm not Peter Pan. I need to grow up.

That aside. I'm seeing three shows this weekend. One – The Night of the Iguana. Legendary moment for me, to see my namesake. Two – Juno. Legendary flop with amazing score, starring Victoria Clark and Celia Keenan Bolger. Three – Sunday in the Park With George. I can't wait to see that show. It's the show that brings my two college lives together.

The other night I was suffering from insomnia and to help me sleep I bought five musical flop CDs. What's wrong with me? What's wrong!

Picture-A-Day #025

Doing homework. It's the first lazy Tuesday I've had in a long time.

FriendsWithYou -- New Love

I have fallen in love with something utterly amazing. It makes me so happy in these up and down days of life.

FriendsWithYou will be getting a place on my body. I am in love with Popa, The Boy and Barbie W/Spirit.

Picture-A-Day #024

Picture-A-Day #023

My sisters straightened my hair (meaning she got the curl in the bangs out.) This is for fun.

Jesus Died For Our Sins

Last night I sat down with my dad and discussed my finances for the next year. I'm going to have to take out a wonderfully hefty loan to live off of. I'm doing what everyone else is doing and living off the system. Despite the fact I will have to pay it back. Rent, food, Subway Transportation, etc. All will live off this loan.

It's very disheartening when you sit down and add it all up. I can't do financial aid because I'm on my parent's income, which is well above 75,000 a year. My father is rich, that doesn't make me rich. What a funny and overheard complaint in the college world. I'm hoping that on this loan I will be able to finish school once and for all. Granted, I will enter the adult world (haven't I been there for a while already?) and have to start paying off the loans. All that jazz. My dad was very helpful, telling me not to get discouraged. It's not as bad as it will seem. It's life, we all have to go through it.

He also approves of my leaving my job. Apparently I am the hardest working person in college they know. Isn't that funny? It's actually very true. No one works harder than I have. That's a proven fact. I'm kidding, my story is a dime-a-dozen here in the city. I suppose. Well I highly doubt it actually I've never heard of any 22 year old who has gone through as much as I have.

A Long Days Journey Back to Home

This is how I remember my family. Yes, I am the little one in the red vest. I remember happiness and simplicity. I don't remember fights and hate. Which utterly perplexes me how times change so easily. People change. It someone looked at this photo could they possibly see what futures were held for these people? Can you spot the alcoholic? The troublemaker/pothead? The faggot? Or the thief?

If you've spotted three of the five, congratulations you are psychic. This is how I'd like to begin the story of my family (someday of course), which an imagine similar to this picture. My very childhood memories rely on this very photo, if I stray to far away from this photo all of my childhood may crackup completely.

I have found out something very important on my visit here. That is the story of our Rise and Fall as Jehovah's Witnesses. It truly is a sordid tale, and once again has inspired me to someday write a play based on it:

Act I:
My mother and her younger sister were raised Catholic until she (my mom) was 13. Then her parents made the change to Jehovah's Witnesses. That is still a mystery, but I also can compare it with the very moment they lost their minds. My mother fled my grandparents iron rule at 18 and promptly became pregnant with my brother at 21.

My dad was a 21 year old pot smoking dropout who wanted to change his life. He wanted something to believe in. He became a Jehovah's Witness and a good one at that. He became a partner in his father's business and was basically one step below being an Elder. Mother's younger sister was a Jehovah's witness and thus her husband was one too. All but my mother never was baptised.

As years passed my mother had me and my brother started school. She began to resent my father and his religion for ostracizing her children. My brother was sent to the Principal's office whenever there were parties of any kind. My father also began to get more involved with the business and that meant sometimes lying about certain business transactions. This was not the way of a Jehovah's Witness. Lying and watching you distance yourself from your family. My father left and thus is officially excommunicated.

Oh, but if only that were the end of this tale. No, it's not.

Act II:

My Aunt and her husband, still Jehovah's Witnesses, have their first child. While my aunt is weakened by birth somehow a rare blood disease she had took that opportunity to become active in her body.

A week after she had her child she developed kidney stones and one one could figure out what was wrong with her. She returned to the hospital and complications began. Jehovah's Witnesses don't believe in Western Medicine and though a blood transfusion could possibly have cured everything. She never got it. My Uncle refused to give her the transfusion, they even had other Witnesses come to the hospital to keep him strong. But my mother said that she still remembers the wails he let out they moment she was gone.

That's not how I remember my family, but that's how it really happened.

Lastly, this is my at my fattest. Some people don't believe I was once chubbier. So I'm bringing pictures home to show the Tall Man because he shared his fat photos with me.

Picture-A-Day #022

Upstate NY is no fun to me anymore.

East of Eden — Bastardized Movie

Last night was hanging out with the Tall Man. Which consisted of sex on his couch, something we haven't done before because he usually had a roommate around. Now he didn't and he had a towel handy. So it commenced and was delightful. Then we talked and didn't talk for hours.

Since I finally finished East of Eden we decided it was time we finally watched the legendary movie. Okay, if you say so. It was a brilliant movie as far as James Dean's acting and Elia Kazan's direction went. I'll even give it up for Julie Harris and Jo Van Fleet (who looked exactly as I pictured Kate to look). I'd never seen James Dean act before and I fell in love with that man. His approach was ground breaking of what you saw during the 1950s. Most actors played for the camera. James played for the performance it seemed. It was very cool to watch.

That aside, the movie sucked. The story was so far removed from how great the book was. The book was phenomenal because of the epic qualities it had. In the movie they condensed it into one simple story about the two brothers. They removed all other interesting characters and just went with that. Plus the profound ending was wholly ruined.

I finished watching Dance of the Vampires. Holy shit. Where did this show come from? Those who weren't lucky to see enough the Old style Broadway techniques being raped repeatedly in this show, are neither better off nor hampered for it. Yet, to see it is to see sometime beyond absurdity. I loved this trippy scene when some of the dancers are flying around. While the ones on stage look like mirror images. Or the nightmare dream scene where the bed comes to life and dances. Or when the gay Vampire tries to seduce the lead male and the scene takes place in front of a mirror. But the gay vampire's reflection is there while they dance. Oh goodness me-oh-my!

Tomorrow early in the morning I am working my way upstate to celebrate Easter for less than 24 hours with my family. Prepare yourself for an epic post, I am sure. I don't plan on seeing friends or going to the mall or doing necessarily anything other than filing my taxes. Which means I'll have time.

Lastly, I am now reading And The Band Played On. So for the next couple of months I will be VERY, very introspective I am sure.

Picture-A-Day #021 - Iguana with his skin off

This is what I look like extremely content and happy and naked. Meaning I woke up in the Tall Man's Bed...naked and needing a shower. I'm allowed to brag sometimes...okay?

Aside: It's funny that I still am convinced that I have a tummy. I'll never have abs, but I like my body 75-85% of the time.

Picture-A-Day #020

Picture-A-Day #019

I look fat, but who cares? Well I sort of do, but it's me being all sleepy.

Donate Please!

Let's get our AIDS WALK on. Anything you can donate would be greatly appreciated it. I also want to say that if you don't donate...well that makes you sort of inhuman. Especially if you are any of the following: Gay or Fag Hag. That's like having a title but never acting out on it.

That's like being George W. Bush. George doesn't donate to the AIDS WALK, I am sure. Are you George W. Bush? No pressure. I'm just saying...

I have to get these moments down...

Lets start with the bad first shall we? As I was walking to school today I dropped my Lighting Design homework (you see where this is going don't you?) out of my book bag and realized it was missing three blocks later. I walked back quickly in time to see a small group of people picking it up. I worked it up to top speed walking and yelled to them, "Hey, excuse me! That's mine!"

Not that I'm racist (Re: Cat on a Hot Tin Roof). But these guys could give me enough material I could write a stand-up routine. When they turned it was two older Hispanic guys and a preteen. The first thing the guy says, "How much will you pay for it?" I just stared. The other guy goes, "Hey you need to be mo' polite when you ask for that! He has your papers and you're not askin' nicely? He picked them up!" WHAT?! This guy just tried to get me to pay him. I'm not asking nicely?!

"Can I have it back please?"

"I should make you pay me!"

"It's a school project."

"You need to ask mo' nicer!"

It may sound ridiculous, but I almost burst into tears. I hate confrontation. When people yell I have trouble breathing. My eyes just instinctively started to tear up. To make a long story short, he returned it. I turned and continued and need to breath deeply before I regained my composure. I'm a sad mess sometimes.

Another moment: My weird Jewish roommate who is a stoner and really awkward. Like REALLY. He's nice though, but he has social issues. He had a couple friends over and I was listening through the door. It was the absolute example of awkward. They all had different speech impediments. One stuttered, another sounded like he was deep and raspy (not necessarily a speech impediment) and the other spoke like Marlon Brando.

I sat there listening and absolutely transfixed! Then I was inspired by that idea for a show. Someone (or multiple people) sitting in their room listening, but eventually going on with their day. There is no sound of their life, what they sound like or anything. While in the background an entirely different life is going on. In the apartment next door or something. Just a thought I had, but a thought.

Lastly, Dance of the Vampires. These moments need to be remembered! What a mess of a show. The dancing is worse than anything Debbie Allen did with Carrie: The Musical. The whole show is a joke of mocking Vampire stories. The best part is the score was written by the people who wrote Total Eclipse of the Heart. So naturally they included that song into the show somewhere!

There's this scene when a giant coffin shoots out of the stage and reveals...Michael Crawford. Then when the servant becomes crazy and dresses in all leather for no apparent reason. Oh the best part! During the love song, the lead is transfusing his blood into the lead girl. They are singing and when they're about to touch. The professor steps on the tube giving her blood so they both pass out for a moment. Then he removes his foot and they continue singing as though nothing happen.

Hysterical! These moments must be preserved.

Picture-A-Day #018

I hate my Tuesday Lighting Design Class.

Picture-A-Day #017

Thought I forgot. But I didn't forget...I'm trying to never forget. This is me before bed.

A Weekend in the County

Three words: August: Osage County.
Two words: See it.
One word: Wow.

It was a very good show. I mean the story has been done before. Pill popping mother. Family coming together. Disaster after disaster. To see the two female powerhouses though was well worth it. At the end of the show I was walking through the lobby and they were doing Broadway Cares collection and I saw the woman who played Violet Weston. I told her she was phenomenal. She played crazy like I have never seen crazy played before. She played it so true.

Picture-A-Day #016

Just got home from running at the gym...here's what I look like at my worst.

Cat on a Black Tin Roof

Yes, that's right I went there. Today I saw Cat on a Hot Tin Roof. This was the first New York Production that was an all black cast. James Earl Jones, Phylicia Rashad, Anika Noni Rose and Terrance Howard all headlined this one.

Cat has never been my favorite 10 play. I'm more partial to The Night of the Iguana, which I'll be seeing in two weeks. Yet, that rarely gets a revival, meanwhile Cat gets a revival every couple of years (it seems). After today I understand why. TW wrote a brilliant, utterly brilliant play. The speech just flows to you and you are enraptured by it. Maggie's end of Act I speech is hypnotizing! The scene where Brick tries to hit Maggie is frightening but hilarious. Anytime Big Daddy is on stage you feel in Awe! With that said it doesn't mean the acting was on par with what I hoped for. Overall it was an interesting production, but the audience was what got me.

Anika was sensational as Maggie. And I'm not saying this cause I'm a gushing gay man. She was genuinely amazing. Her first Act tirades were well received by my ears. She's such a beautiful woman too and when she was in her slip my cheeks grew red.

James Earl Jones was demanding and powerful. He played Big Daddy as if the show was always written for him. He did make some acting choices that were fascinating. I wasn't sure they were choices, but I figured probably. He would squat at times and it just worked.

Terrance Howard was drunker than I expected. A little disappointing.

Phylicia was...well she was chewing the scenery as she's always done. She was good though. Watching this with an all black cast I realized how well it worked. I loved that they used the uncensored script, but some people disagree. If they only knew what replaced those words. Ducking? I ask you.

Now the audiences I'll say right off were primarily African-American. It's always an enlivening experience to go to the theater with a majority being black. When I saw the Color Purple, I may as well have been in a southern baptist church. Today's audience was that way, but what's sad is that many didn't know that this play it's a farcical comedy.

Oh and boy do I admit, Debbie Allen's directorial choices were to blame. The third act I think was a farce, people were coming and going. Comedy all around! So I can't tell if it was the audience who was looking for humor or it was the way it was directed. But they laughed at EVERYTHING.

"Are you calling me a queer?" Brick asks. They laugh.

"Big Daddy has cancer!" They laugh when Phylicia does something funny in her hysterics.

"I love you Brick." Maggie says to which Brick responds drunkenly, "If only I could believe you." The biggest laugh in the show.

In case you're unaware these are some of the most upsetting parts in the play. Did Debbie Allen search for the comedy (it's from doing all those Oscar shows) because she believed that Black people can't sit through a serious play? I mean there are some deep and tragic issues addressed in this show and while it's okay to laugh in the first act. Act II and III are not half as funny. Yet the laughter continued.

Confusing. Does thinking about this make a racist?

Picture-A-Day #015

I was with friends who were tourists and I thought it would be fun to let them make me a tourist. Oh those years.

A Moment if you will...

I am going to be introspective. It's been in affect for the last 24 hours, starting with my visit with the Tall Man. He seemed to handle it well, but I felt I soured my mood of the night with constantly recollecting my life. We were sharing, ideas and stories, which is very nice. Due to recent events, being introspective has taken on a much stranger meaning for me. I feel myself getting tangled up and lost in my memories.

Moments that once seemed trivial suddenly weight the balance. Then I am wondering how I wasted those moments performing that task. Or I wonder why can't that feeling I had once, and taken for granted, return? The Tall Man says I have a a good voice for storytelling and that I am teaching him a whole world he doesn't know. My ramblings of theatre, actually interest someone to the point that they asked me to continue speaking? Yet, I withdrew in my mind feeling conscious of the assault & battery with my mouth.

I come to a moment where I think: Return back to your old ways and freak out over this...this nothing? Or try a different route. I shall take a route that I normally have looked over. I shall not pity myself for making a minor mistake. I will not recede back into the shell.

I am lost in a specific memory: I am 14. I remember visiting my grandparents in Florida. A small retirement village. Stationary motor homes, decorated as if families had lived in them for generations. I never felt so safe. I think of going out on the boat. I remember discovering Starlight Express and Sunset Blvd. For the first time. I remember sitting on the deck and reading Agatha Christie, just sitting for hours and reading. Breathing, letting the non-time pass on. Laying in it. Not thinking about the future, thinking about anything. Taking for granted what it's like to not think. At that time my future didn't matter because I was assured in one thing. That I would be in it.

Destiny and life didn't matter. Once again they were written out already. I just had to go along in my ways and it would all unfold. I remember riding out on that boat, watching the sun and feeling the stillness. Sitting with my Disc man on my lap. Listening to silence. The end would come, but like my life I somehow had skipped out on it. I was going to feel like this forever.

Then I leave the memory and return to now. And I'm overcome. I partially blame it on John Steinbeck. Which may seem absurd but you try going through life changing moments and reading East of Eden. Then tell me how you handle those moments, as you watch the entire history of a family pass through pages. It happens so quickly, but naturally we accept it. We accept the briefness of it all. When the characters skip ages, we allow it because that's how life goes. One moment we're 14 and the next we're 22.

Yet, that's only been 8 years! Hardly a decade yet! Though you, you have the nerve to be introspective? You pretend to think your life means something, not even a decade in. You have no legacy yet. You don't even have real memories yet. You have breezes, you have small drifts that come and go. If you're lost now people will not remember you. They will recall, but they won't feel it. They'll say I recall. Let's face it, even the sound of the two words has a distinctive difference.

So let the time pass, let it flow. I shall wade in it. I shall lap up the time and enjoy those moments of in taking. For it happens as quickly as you inhale, then finishes before the exhale. Then when I am without it, when it's moving to fast. I cannot stop to take a drink. I will go on, knowing it'll happen again.

Now I am drinking, I am guzzling. I have tasted life tinged with something else. And it's caused my mind to shift. It's the calm that has descended from the delirium or the shock. I am the lost tragedian, I've always played the sob song. So well that I begin to feel comfortable in a skin that I shouldn't. I rebelled and not only went the way they advised not to feel, but I preceded to live in it. I am capable of moments of happiness, but I feel that I'm more susceptible of the opposite.

Yet now I have decided to live against it. I have decided to be gracious! To enjoy the life that the world has given me. Which may be moments to late. On whose authority, I ask? Society? The moment I was born society was against me, this is just another battle of a larger war.

My body, that's so used to the sad state is reminding me. That's where this introspection comes from. It's the siren calling the ship back to the island. It's just set sail ladies, let us see where it ends up? Are we agreed? For however far this ship sails, if it's journey proves to be a disaster, the song will sound sweeter when we return.

Picture-A-Day #014

Smoking break at work

My new favorite lady - Not I

Alice Ripley, to know that you've been in my life for years. Yet I chose to ignore you! How, why am I so foolish sometimes? Well, every Broadway lady gets their attention in my life and right now you're in my mind often.

What I would love more is if Alice Ripley performed Not I by Beckett. Not I is probably one of the most difficult monologues I have ever seen performed. It's a monologue that's just a woman's mouth. That's all. Watch the video if you don't believe me. Why I would like Alice to perform this is because her voice is so hypnotizing to me.

What might be better is someone tried to put Not I to music. I know, I know that's probably violating Beckett's idea. And the House of Beckett (which I picture as a small shack that when entered opens up into the abyss) would probably never allow it, since Becket's very precise, but I think it may be fun to put to music. A very dissonant sound would be created and for that I love the idea.

Saturday I am going to aim at trying to see Cat on a Hot Tin Roof. Then on Sunday we scored cheap seats to August Osage County. Which I'm excited to see, because everyone's been ranting and raving about it since it opened. I sometimes wonder if my opinion is the same of the popular. More than often it seems it's not.

Picture-A-Day #013

For the first time in my life I have pretty wild and un-tamable hair. It's strange.

Some Enchanted Evening

Last night was South Pacific at Lincoln Center. My favorite place in all of Manhattan. I wasn't going to see Candide again this year, but I decided since the New York City Opera is closing next season for renovations I may as well.

The production was South Pacific was stellar. Truly stunning. The sets, costumes and lighting were done in the highest of quality. Especially the Bali Hai number, while Bloody Mary was singing in the seascape backdrop turned purple and slowly an island appeared onto it. Very simple, but very effective to the beauty of the song.

Kelli O' Hara was a formidable Nellie. I loved her, I thought she played the role as it was supposed to be. I mean I know why Mary Martin rocked the role. Paulo Szot's Emile was very good. There's something about that character that is lack luster though. He sings Some Enchanted Evening three times and that's all really. The woman who played Bloody Mary was terrific and she sang her two songs amazingly.

It was funny because the older patrons kept saying that "Nothing compares to the original production!" Well duhhhhhhhhhh! I mean come on! You are seeing what at the time was relevant and poignant. Now it's a history piece. It doesn't have that same draw as it once did. The book is old. It's good, but still old. Granted there is still blatant racism and the song, You Have To Be Taught, stands true through the ages.

Afterwards I spent the night with The Tall Man and he declared we are "Dating" in the simple sentence: You're the first blond I have ever dated. So it wasn't a declaration, but it made me smile. Grant I don't need a declaration to make me realize that yes we are dating. How many times can I say dating or declaration in one paragraph? And not in a historical way.

Picture-A-Day #012

Me leaving The Tall Man's place after seeing South Pacific the night before, but more on that later. Oh and he said we're dating. Which isn't a surprise, but nice to hear spoken aloud. I am seeing him again tomorrow. Happy days. God I feel like Winnie.

Picture-A-Day #011

Do I find it strange I am using Camino Real to take a picture of me on my old phone, checking my voicemail? Why, yes, yes I do.

Where to place my thoughts

I can't figure out where to place my thoughts. Parents came, parents went. It was the quickest visit yet. It was rainy and things were mild and well. Mom announced that I was expected home for Easter. To which I need to figure out. These small things stress me out for some odd reason. To put it simply, I don't wish to go home for Easter.

I am having several childhood memories that I am falling into and wading around in. I've been remembering times that are much calmer and fill me with ease. A particular memory that reminds me of Colored Lights by Kander & Ebb. The memory is of when I was visiting my grandparents in Florida when I was probably 15 or 16. I was reading Agatha Christie's mystery novels. I had just discovered Starlight Express and Sunset Blvd. It was so calm. I was stuck in a retirement area and I loved it. We would ride out on my grandparent's slow-moving boat and I would listen to my CD player. Through my new found interest in Sunset Blvd, I was able to see the movie for the first time with my grandmother's help.

These memories comfort me. So strange. I miss those colored lights.

I've found that recently due to events that I have become terrified to be alone. I don't like it, I find myself seeking out the company of friends. Which is a great because it is not my initial reaction to seek the company in a sexual manner. Yet, I dislike it because I am becoming afraid of silence. I'm afraid to deal with thoughts. I feel selfish that I am allowing myself to let it pass. I have days I want to scream and days I want to cry and days where I want nothing but to laugh. I try most for the laughing nowadays.

Picture-A-Day #009 & 010

This is what my lazy eye looks like when it really acts up. But this is what I really look like:

Picture-A-Day #008

I have to see two shows at my school today! At the same time...

The Gaymer

First, the time change has taken me for a surprise. Last night on the train I was making good time at getting home. Next thing I know it's 3 am and I'm horribly late. So needless to say I woke up to late to go to the gym. I am a little upset. Now, why I am more upset...

The Gaymer. A species that I once thought I belonged to. A gaymer for those of you who don't know is a gay man who plays video games. Excessively. I used to revel in the fact that I was one. I was subversive being a homo who played games! It was a defining feature of my life. "I'm gay and I played all of King's Quest growing up as a kid..." Does that ring a bell? Anyone...hello is this thing on? If I told someone that statement and they didn't understand then I knew there was no hope. If a guy didn't play video games...what was the point?

Then life set in. Not there is anything wrong with a gay man who plays video games. Actually it's still very cute. Correction, it's still very cute until last night. For you see last night I was invited to a midnight Gaymer release party of Super Smash Brothers Brawl for the Wii. There were several things wrong with this scenario: It was daylights savings and the game wasn't released until midnight, it was in Harlem and OH I've never played a Wii until a couple weeks ago!

So I have concluded (at least from the invited guests of this party) that there are two types of Gaymers. The incredibly hot ones and the mild ones. Gaymers have this intellect of uselessness that comes off as cocky, but utterly attractive. If it's a hot one, then it's even better. Along with this intellect also comes a condescending. Enter me.

I who have not half the video game powers I used to. I'm a veteran. I can remember the good times, but I believe the present has fallen on squalor. There has been a game able to make me feel motivated for years. So I enter this room of a mix of hot and mild. And now ladies an gentlemen I will begin to analyze...

Before I begin, life has give me a blessing. My blond hair. This is a lesser known fact, but I am sort of a method actor. When I enter a social situation when I know no one and I feel a little intimidated I rely on one thing and let it go where it takes me. Last night it took me father than I ever thought I could go. Being blond I can throw out some choice statements and instantly no one takes me seriously. I know it's abusing my intelligence, but I knew the rules of the game. I have developed a perfect blank stare and look of utter disbelief. If I tried to pretend I was up to date with the Wii or I knew what was going on they would have quickly caught on and rubbed it in harder. If they all felt less threatened, they'd embrace me. Even if only a little.

God, I feel like Jane Goodall.

The couple hosting the party were very gracious. There was one who was a little more intense, but I could tell from the look in his eyes he held a brutish demeanor but would crumble just as easily as the rest. Regardless, I liked him and his geekiness.

Then there was another couple. One thin as a stick and cute in that gaymer way. The other large (very) an not really social. I also noticed he didn't play video games that much either, from his lack of knowing how to play Mario Party 8. He hated me and the act I put up. I wanted to pull him aside and whisper, "Listen friend, I am on your side! Hate what you see, but don't hate me because after tonight we will share a bond larger than the two of us combined!" Yet, to break face would be disastrous. We've gotten through the couples...

Then there is the Hot Gaymers. Now they are what does it for me. If I played video games still I would probably be this. Well, duh. This particular one was defensive of me from the moment I entered the room. I noticed his quick looks and snide comments. I can handle him, with my mask on I didn't really care. Besides I wasn't in competition tonight, I was there as an observer.

Hot Gaymers of my age have something to prove. They want to be free and wild. Sleep with anyone they can, because they know where they stand! That's fine, really. But because they are used to competition through games they are equally competitive in the ways of the bedroom. Entering a room full of gay men is just like Pac-Man. Eat the fruit and gobble up anyone worth points. When I entered the room the game was on.

Yet the catch is Hot Gaymers are "friendly." They are so unsure of themselves that they have a belief that they must be every one's friend. They are nice and flirt with everyone. Not just one person, they want to make sure they have all venues open. Just in case one falls through. Speaking from personal experiencing, I learned that those kinds of people are the saddest. Always avoiding and never confronting, it's okay if some people dislike you. It really is.

I was fine with him until a second hot gaymer showed up. Now when you have more than one joined in battle, it's like Hyena's. They are sneakier than they seem. The second one was on the border of Gaymer and the border of Bitchy.

At this point I had already portrayed myself as the dumb blond so I couldn't go back on it. Of course we all know how blonds react when they are bombarded with bitchy comments. They take it like Jesus Christ did on the cross. So I pulled a Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf and got drunk. Or as Brick once said, "I looked for my click..."

It's funny that before coming there I was excited but felt a nagging on the back of my neck the entire day. Then I remembered what that nagging was...

Did Jane Goodall ever have to deal with a bitchy Gorilla?

Picture-A-Day #007

This is what my parents will see in less than an hour. Iguana's and Puffins.

Marilyn: An American Fable

I think it's time I try to tackle Marilyn: An American Fable. One of those flops that people wonder why? It wasn't given a full chance to become a legend like Carrie or Chess. It came and went and only was a hot topic in the year is came out. Like The Pirate Queen will be in several years.

I don't think there is any possible way I can describe this show. I shall try. Marilyn tells the story of Marilyn Monroe of course. Exactly as the title explains it's all a fable. The show opens with a little Norma Jean at her window wishing to be a star! Then suddenly these three random strangers in tuxes show up. They are Marilyn's Destiny guiding her. Yes, exactly. An unknown fact about Marilyn is that she had three spiritual guides that made her decisions for her. Damn that Destiny.

On top of that Marilyn spend the entire first act breathing overly heavy and bending over. I've only gotten through the first act, because it's difficult. It doesn't pick a time period to be in. It borders on rock and absurd. Quantum Leaps' Scott Backula makes his premiere as Joe DiMaggio. Marilyn leaves him when he says he wants her to be with him HERE! When he says that I couldn't figure out if he meant here with him. Or here in Dimaggio's, the restaurant owned by Joe.

Regardless Marilyn leaves him. Act II opened with Marilyn having a nightmare where Destiny (those unholy trinity) sing evilly about her bad choices. Which has little to do with her addiction to pills, but more with her lack of success.

Picture-A-Day #006

Picture-A-Day #005

I need to work on my facial poses.

The Night I Met Patti LuPone

Where do I go from here? Really. I've achieved a goal that I've always wanted. Do I have to stop discussing Patti LuPone? Obviously not, I suppose I should just tell the story.

To be honest of the three versions of Gypsy starring Patti I have seen (yes, I have seen three...it's a lonely life I live). This was my least favorite. At City Center you could forgive small things like poor sets and costume choices. They only had so much time. Yet, with a Broadway production, spend the extra money and just make a new set. The show was going for the idea that Vaudeville is dead. I understand that, but the hand painted backgrounds were not so amusing this time.

My friend hated the costumes, but I didn't mind so much. They used a lot of patterns on Patti and then for Rose's Turn, it was just a simple dress. It was sort of odd. I know, it's so as to not distract from her moment. Dainty June was amazing. I loved the spin she took on it, making June just plain angry at her life. She was unhappy every moment and it worked. Louise was great too, as was Herbie. Yet, I feel none of these roles changes much from City Center. Patti changed a little.

The energy of the show felt much lower than City Center. This is obvious since they went from just playing weekends, to eight shows a week. Obviously they're not going to give it their all on a Tuesday night during the second preview. Since I saw it closing night, I was a little let down. Patti cut down on the hamming. I'm sorry, but I love the hamming. Keep the hamming Patti. I know why you're not. You want that Tony Nomination (it would be wild if she won! Her chances are good. I will tell you more though when I see A Catered Affair and South Pacific).

I also met Allison Fraiser last night too. I should give it up for the original Trina who has guided me in my life for years. She was terrific as Tessie Tura. Actually the entire Gotta Get A Gimmick number is amazing! Marilyn Caskey, who plays Electra, for only have like 5 minutes in the show. Stands out amazingly! She reinvents an otherwise lifeless character and totally bitch slaps Jerome Robbin's Choreography. Which I laugh at, very much so.

Lastly, they are trying a different ending to the show. It just doesn't work. Yet, I am thrilled that I got to finally see a different take on Gypsy. Even if it fell a little flat. Yet again when it's been the same for years, new things always seem odd. Patti's Rose's Turn was a little nutty, but I still loved it. She played it as Rose was having a complete breakdown and it was interesting. I like the idea of Rose losing her mind, because Rose says herself, she never had the talent. Why suddenly would she have this great talent. She's battling off her demons while trying to believe that she is talented.

Now meeting Patti. It took a long while and I had my pillow all ready. I had Camino Real all set on camera mode. It was 11 pm when the show ended. Patti didn't come out until 12:30. While we waited, my friend and I spent time making lewd comments. Yes, we are that kind of people. Comments about how Patti sleeps upside down in the theater hanging off the Rose Sign. I love Patti, true, but anyone who keeps me waiting for that long gets made fun of.

Yes, I know that's enough to make me hate anyone. It was how she appeared that was grand. Around 12:29 everyone goes silent (the had always turned off the marquee lights) and we hear voices coming down the hall singing, Give My Regards to Broadway and out emerges Patti and several of her friends.

Patti announces that she's been drinking. Be it a joke or serious was everything I pictured! She started signing autographs and treating everyone equally, making small talk. She then lead us in another chorus of Give My Regards and when she found some people who had a birthday she lead us in a rousing rendition of Happy Birthday.

My moment to connect with Patti was ruined when the woman before me took Patti and whispered some deep dark secret into her ear. She was shaking! I believe she was telling Patti she had Cervical Cancer and hearing Rose's Turn put her Cancer into remission. So when Patti came to me I was going to tell her a dark secret to keep the theme, but I figured my pillow was enough.

She admired the pillow and I had a starstruck moment where I don't remember much, except she asked what should she write. My mind went blank and all I could say was, "Don't Cry For Me Craig." Oh Jesus. We live and learn don't we? Well it's a clever little message because during these trying times, I haven't been crying much. So it was just restating my life. She then gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

Thus a dream has been completed and I now own a pillow. I made. That Patti LuPone has signed. Yes, I am officially one of those PEOPLE.

Time for a game:



Watch the following Youtube video this kid took last night and see if you can: A. Spot me holding my pillow (watch carefully) and B. Spot how drunk Patti may or may not be...Good luck!

Picture-A-Day #004

This is what I look like when I just wake up and I am all bug-eyed.

Bonus:
This is Patti LuPone spelling out my name. Yea, that's right.

Picture-A-Day #003

I've decided to put up a photo a day of myself. 365 days of Iguaua. Call it vain, but it's more a social experiment. When I find out in what I'll let you know.

Room Tour

With my iPhone, which I will now refer to as Camino Real, I took a little picture tour of my room so you can see the small space in which I live.

My desk that I always type these wonderfully informative entries on...

My bookshelf filled with plays and random book. Notice the Friendlies from China, resting on top of my row of Playbills.

The trash bag that serves as a garbage can. The plastic container that serves as a nightstand. The bed that I "sleep" in sometimes when I'm not awake.

Me, with my new haircut. And just so you know what I look like right now.

Another Sunday

A picture of me on my new iPhone - Camino Real

Just a Sunday. Any other Sunday really. I have an iPhone, but I am at a bit loss of what to do with it. I have my first cell phone/laptop thing/camera/ipod/etc. My area code is the original Brooklyn too. That's something to be proud of.

Strangely performing actions like this, like getting a cell phone that solidifies my permanence on this earth. It terrifies me. I'm leaving my mark, even in the smallest amount. There is a cell phone bill that people could use to begin to learn about what I did here. It sounds strange I suppose. Yet, my mind works in strange ways now.

I had a sit down chat with a friend today. This was difficult for me because I love this friend immensely. It's the same as telling The Tall Man. He was shocked and didn't know what to say. I told him (as I tell so many others) that is there nothing I am looking to hear. I didn't expect the news to shake me so much. It feels odd telling myself that it's okay to be confused. Life doesn't need to be summed up all the time. Life moves strangely for everyone.

A year can flow by, or seven. And it will affect everyone differently. Today while telling my friend I saw a look in his eye. I saw him seeing me, seeing my future and it chilled me. He saw me sick, he saw me alone, he saw me...Chills I say.

Time can move so strangely, but we allow it. We try to race time, we try to overcome time. Apply to grad school directly because you won't do it later in life. Get a job right out of school. Make a salary. Who says that is what it should all amount to? Thinking these thoughts tires me.