Wednesday, December 31

Hurrah. Final Entry of 2008.

Afternoon bus ride home from Upstate, NY. As the years progress the idea of being born and raised in the town known as Burnt Hills and growing up in the family that I once considered my own. It had become more allegorical than I ever intended it to be. I have two hours to get this all straight, I may not need them. I have allotted the trip to put my thoughts in order. Join me, won’t you?

The worse part is starting at the beginning, the task at hand seems to daunting. While I was home a friend, that boy, the young religious one, told me how sorry he felt about my reaction to visiting home. Is that how life is these days? The blessed pity the impious? He felt sorry that my trips home don’t prove restful and that’s what a trip home is supposed to do. Is it? Really?

My mother and father, I love. My dad recently took a big step in a good direction. The whole of it was strange. He made a snide comment to my grandparents about how I did nothing when I was home. I let my voice raise, but I felt it wasn’t worth it. Everyone here is at their wit’s end.

My dad and I went to see a movie after this indiscretion. He decided to do his talk, for which I have learned means: sit there and listen. I compare it to a lecture in college. He’s not necessarily asking for my opinion in anything. He just wishes to lay the cards out. He complimented me, he told me truths about life.

He talked of my mother, his wife, as I’ve never heard it before. There seemed to be an eagerness in his voice. A prayer that I would just listen and not take anything at offense. I performed to my highest ability. He was being open and honest with me. When he told me how my mother threatens to leave him constantly, I could not respond.

Both my parents want me to succeed in life. Do I enjoy the fact that they both think I’m spoiled? Not necessarily, but they both believe I was. I was spoiled as a kid, I worked for the good grades while my brother slipped by. I always tried to appease their wishes, when I knew how easy it was to break the rules. I am trying to be the best son I can be. I guess I expected something in return.

Both my parents are amazed at how I’ve gotten by. They only know the censored for TV version, which tends to make life a little more difficult. I’m figuring all that out as we go along. When I am cornered with my mother in the car and discussions move from point A to B and then suddenly to point G. That much is my fault because I allow myself to go there. I can’t get frustrated at her for not understanding.

A year ago, I went to China. A year ago, I felt invincible. A year ago, I thought life owed me for everything.

My entire nine days home was focused on my Drug Addict/Alcoholic/Mess of an Aunt. I’ve never thought my family would turn into one of those families. We harbor this wraith in the house while everyone goes on pretending she’s necessary to the scenery. People speak openly about her impending funeral and I wish I could tell them what is really on my mind. True the woman has been awful in her recovery, but why do we entertain her drunken wants and needs? I learned tt’s not in my power to make choices on that, just to watch as she wastes away. Then that day when she’s gone, we will all wash our hands of the issues? Will we? Can we ever just forget that?

My mother’s boredom, her restlessness, has become an issue that drives me slightly mad. I found myself going off onto more personal issues because she argues about the littlest things. I left the ice cream out on the counter to long. Some of my high school friends I invite over are too loud. Why do you hate Upstate, NY? I have such an anger problem, but I’m only twenty-three. Whatever will we do about my aunt? (Keeping in mind this last topic was brought up about twice a day for nine days.)

She is so terribly bored and thus has become a creature of habit. She doesn’t read or follow anything, other than TV. She obsesses over these little things, but can’t admit that. Yet, there is nothing wrong in reminding me of my eccentricities. I guess I am used to it.

I return home, nine days later, knowing that everyone in the family now sees my depression. Notices my sadness, as if I wear it on my sleeve and they are concerned. I wonder if I walk by bushes and they don’t wilt. They understand the world is in awry, I am jobless, poor and stressed. They want to be there for me, which is reassuring.

So I need to be proactive and look for a job, if one exists. I need to better myself as a person, because the damages can be repaired. I need to be ceremonious and allow the New Years of 2009 to be a transition. Of energies, goals, wishes and happiness.

A year ago on New Years I blacked out in China. Drunk on too much rice wine. 2008 came without my approval and I believe that something happened. A wire crossed and things became blurry.

It’s only been a year, people expected so much improvement in only a year. People can’t see time how I see time. That’s their folly.

Saturday, December 27

Lets End This Sooner Than Later

I'm ending this affair upstate, only a day earlier than planned. I have accomplished all I can while I've been up here. I need to just be in Brooklyn and be done with this last semester. I need to take a breath and think of what is coming next.

I've rediscovered Queen thanks to K. Freddie Mercury makes me so happy and hot. Bicycle is such a trippy song and the way he sings the word "bicycle" is just chills my soul. I melt a little.

So today was the day I ate with my Oma and Opa. Which means I returned into that time capsule. In turn this means images I enjoy thoroughly:




My Opa has made a bunch of pens out of different kinds of woods from all over the world. He let me pick out any one of the pens from his collection. I felt like a J.K. Rowling character getting their wand for the first time.I picked this one he made from a rare African wood and African Nut. Also because the story of this pen went something like this:
OPA: (Thick German Accent.) I get these little African nuts, that I have to shape with my machines. So I crack open the nut and what do I see . . . little insects! Little insects are living in the nut! You know what I do? I pack the nut up into a plastic bag . . . and I stick it in the freezer!


My Oma stores her cookies in a pot with pieces of bread to keep moisture? The pot is stored in her guest/sewing room. She somehow manages to make cookies without using butter or some intricate ingredient.
Welcome to my home...

Friday, December 26

The Day After Pill

Christmas arrived and I got an Xbox 360! That was supposed to be my initial reaction, but then life happened and I got more and more poor, etc. Before the reality could set in, I spent the $100 dollars more I needed to make my Xbox 360 complete.

I'm glad I have the newest in ridiculousness-technology. I wrote that list sometime in August if I remember correctly. The times since have changed and I felt it weird to retract my request. So I am content that I got this ridiculous box of entertainment.

That aside I am going to play games like GTA IV, Oblivion and Silent Hill: Homecoming. I enjoy GTA IV because I see streets that I've lived on. It mirrors it frighteningly well. I was in Grand Army Plaza today and almost died when I looked at a replica of the Brooklyn Public Library!

I was supposed to go out with an acquaintance from the city who is from Saratoga. I don't know if it will happen, but we were supposed to get drinks in Albany. I once shared a sofa with him after a night of crazy partying. We drank a lot and the capillaries in my nostrils may have shed a little more light on the subject. We ended the night buying microwave pizza (or was it waffles?) and gobbling them down. Then we shared the sofa, nothing sexual, just two random guys cuddling on a sofa because they were to far gone to enjoy anything more.

Wow, that was a memory I haven't relived in some time. Funny how we have those little stories in our lives. Or is it just me? We of course have met before in other social situations. I've shared seats next to him at plays and in bars. We've laughed and felt together. He's a nice guy, but I think tonight may not mount to anything. My bones are cold and I am sleepy.

I've never gone out to the bars upstate, I'm slightly curious. The acquaintance has dubbed Albany: Trashtastic. My first bar outings were in the city, isn't that an odd thought? I will make a point of going out tomorrow!

This morning I had a wet dream. It was so quick and sudden. Not hot at all actually. I dreamt that I was dry humping some guy I worked on that TV Pilot gig. A couple of humps in and I came all over his fully clothes body. Hotness!

There's been a big discussion of my future, as usual. I am still figuring it out, being here doesn't necessarily help. Seeing high school friends and who's engaged to who, it doesn't intrigue me. Do people think marriage at 22 is a wise choice? Having a baby at 23 is an okay decision?

Perhaps some people have that maturity in them. I would like to think I am capable of that, but it just seems that people are just agreeing to being bored. Oh, how I so wish I could be boring.

Being up here, 9 PM feels so late. I want to be in my PJs, but in case that guy calls. I shared a sofa with him, I owe him past 9 PM.

Thursday, December 25

Harold Pinter and...


Eartha Kitt. The holidays can be so cruel sometimes. She was a small lady, but a lot of woman. R.I.P.

Wednesday, December 24

Tiddle-Di-Du, Tiddle-Dee-Doe

It's Christmas Eve! Since my family is of the anti-Christ nature, we're watching movies indoors tonight. We already paid dues when we saw my 97-year-old Great Grandmother. She is demented beyond all craziness. You get a lot of, "I don't remember anything anymore?" and "Who are you again?"

I noticed on her table there was a picture of every grandchildren and great grandchild. Except mine. Symbolism isn't even necessary here. So I decided that I can treat this woman as a stranger, I don't know either. I had more fun that way, someone foreign to me, not a dying relative.

I got her shaking a shoulder and laughing when I danced to Judy Garland on the TV. She must think I'm just dandy. Perhaps she will remember that, or if it's just passed on like most of her memories.

I got my hair trimmed and had a wonderful time plowing the driveway and pouring salt around the tires of the car. It was stuck in the middle of the driveway, slipping and sliding. I got to the barbers though! If this is real life, I don't know what I shall ever do!

The Obama/Warren debacle has pissed off many a homo. I am not willing to turn my back on him just yet. Be careful though, Obama.

Enjoy the day tomorrow, Merry Christmas Evie.

Tuesday, December 23

For a Moment, All Was Calm

It started off with a conversation on how old the Boston Terrier was. It ended with me telling her I did need help and I was indeed seeking it!

How did it go from point A to point G? I'm holding my cool, I can't be mad at them. They can't understand. I blame too much, I rely on past events because she writes my life off. Was I just the boy who always made a mountain out of a molehill? Yes mother, it's not as if I were molested or abused.

This is the holiday time of year. Did I run home for a chance to relax, I am trying to relax. I am unable to relate with some of these people here. Does that mean I'm living a better life? Or what? I am not sure.

I get worked up so easily. I get so upset and I yell and tense up. When I talk to her, it just gets to me. She's a mother, that's what they do. They annoy and prod. There is a generation gap and it's not to passe to realize they can't figure out based on experience.

Breath, breath, breath.

Sunday, December 21

My Own On the Road

"I dance because I love dancing and I love men."

Jeffery Marx tells the story of New Orleans better than I could ever do it.

I feel like I'm reading a novel.

Saturday, December 20

Returning "Home"

The semester is finished and as predicted by the great prophets. I will return upstate. It's going to be a trip to remember, or perhaps not. It will read and look for jobs. I will argue with my father and hang out with friends. It's all like it used to be.

I was going to write something meaningful, but I have an emergency errand to run before I go home. Oh, to get pregnant now!

Friday, December 19

Liza At The Palace

The semester is through. It's time for Christmas and it's blizzarding out. I feel weird. Odd.

My gift for you...

Thursday, December 18

Sing, Little Boy In Drag, Sing.

It's an admirable attempt, with such heart. He's a beautiful soul.




I saw a documentary called Cat Dancers tonight. This amazing tale of Ron and Joy Holiday who were dancers and animal trainers. After years working together they took on a third caretaker and things just got more creepy. Ron is a closeted homosexual and it's an amazing study at two incredibly fascinating stories.



It ends in death and desperation!

Liza was incredible. She is a performer. I loved the performance I got.

Liza Is INDEED at the Palace

Wednesday, December 17

Commercial Reading & Liza

I'm currently reading Gods & Devils/Angels & Demons/Madonna & Britney. Whatever this book is called. It's like a ride through Central Park in the spring. I just read, I don't have to think, wonder or even fathom what will happen. I will be informed 5-25 pages later. It's like a vacation!

What feels odd is they're trying to save The Vatican from being obliterated. I'm sitting here and thinking, "If they don't accomplish this goal I won't be that upset."

I'm informed that I'm at a part where it really takes off! Let the roller coaster ride begin!

What's ironic is the other book you can find in my bag right now is Naked Lunch by William S. Burroughs. It hasn't been touched because I am enjoying this neurological holiday during finals. Speaking of which, I am on my way to finishing a majority of it today!

Then to celebrate. Liza at the Palace!



I love this woman! Elizabeth knows her innerworkings, I just know her as my Judy's Liza. She has lead an amazing life and I am more than prepared to hear a so-so voice, but to see an amazing performance. I've been listening to her for a little while now. I have most of her concerts on CD and I know what her voice sounded like. I appreciate that to no end and I'm sure if you saw her in The Act in the 70s you'd be disappointed too.

I know what she could do years ago, I've seen plenty of old TV clips and heard even a bootleg recording of her as Roxy Hart in Chicago. I love what she says about addiction, "I have three Tony Awards, an Oscar, a Grammy. . . " She's accomplished so much at such a young age, her being an alcoholic wasn't due to lack of motivation indeed!

When she does the Palace Tribute. I will shit.

However, she is 62 and has had both hips replaced. I just found out from Elizabeth that she had some brain issues a couple of years ago and was told she'd never sing or dance again. Well, here she is boys...

There But For The Grace of God Go I

I finished that paper. With that out of the way and two more tests tomorrow. I'll be over the hill! Then, Upstate New York! The dregs of the state. I'll be incredibly bored, but I won't have to pay for anything. That seems to be key in this game. No tattoos planned, just resting and reading and relaxing. Going to the mall and driving around the rent-a-car. Listening to music, working on my resume.

With that, I'll have one more semester until I graduate! Hurrah! I will get through it and do the whole "degree acceptance thing." It really doesn't mean anything, it just means I have prolonged normal living.

Then there begins the terror of getting a job. All I hear constantly is people getting fired and hours getting cut. That finding a job of any type is pointless, there's so many unemployed. It seems that the drug business is the only thing to get into.

If that were to happen, I assure you, I will omit it from this part of my life. I don't need any evidence. I've seen Oz, I don't really want to go to jail.

We shall see. I keep having visions of myself on the garbage truck working for my father, picking up trash. Or building a road for Obama. Oh, what the future holds. I truly do believe we are in the Great Depression, despite positive thinking. Lets see what happens shall we?

Tuesday, December 16

Sweet Dreams Are Made of Insomnia

After I fell asleep again and because pills weren't involved. I remembered my dream. It started off so hot and good, then ended on such a low note.

My friends and I were on a street on Halloween night and I was dressed as a Sex Pig again. We went to a bar and I immediately fell for the cute redheaded bartender named Iggy (or something like that). He talked and then began making out. Eric, who tends to be competitive when there's someone hot around said, "Oh, who is HE?" and I turned to him and snarled like a pig. He backed off.

Eventually my friends all left the bar to go down the street to this water park and Raymore & Flanagan show room area. Leaving the bar empty, except for Ricky (perhaps that's who it was) and I alone. He made out and touched each other in dirty ways.

After a little while of some heavy petting, one of Nicky's (I think) co-workers returned and he had to stop making out with me. I told him I'd be right back and I'd leave my clothes, wallet and bag at the bar in the upstairs room.

I found my friends, who were having a grand time at the water park half of the wonderland. They asked me how it went and I told them I was gonna get lucky tonight and I was SO ready to have sex. So ready in fact I couldn't hide my erection in my short shorts. I was so horny and piggy I didn't care.

I ran back to the bar and ran upstairs to meet Ziggy (hm), but was stopped by two Italian bodyguards. They told me I wasn't allowed upstairs or really anywhere in the bar for more than five minute intervals. I told them all my stuff was in the upstairs and they still denied me entry. I looked beyond the bodyguards and saw my beau and he just shrugged and mouthed he would be downstairs later.

I returned to my friends and told them of my situation. They told me that it was my fault for leaving my stuff in the bar. I got mad, but I knew I could get it back tomorrow when they changed shifts. By the way, my erection still wouldn't go down.

I began to notice how closely the bar was monitoring me from afar. As I looked around the water park I saw small camera's pointed at me. Even a little toy Scuba diver was swimming in the water and had a little blinking red light. It followed me everywhere, until I squashed it with my feet.

I returned to the bar for another five minutes and found my bartender working in the downstairs bar. I asked him for his number so we could continue this another night when the bodyguards weren't around. He frowned and said they monitored his phone, so it would be best for me to give him my number. I told him to take a hike and left. I then tried to find my way home, dressed as a Sex Pig with a hard-on, on the subway.

As If It Never Went Away

The Ambien wore off. I'm not taking another one because I need to be up at 7:30 anyway.

I am glad to know that months after beginning the pills, nothing has changed. The election is over and my life is getting better (I think). I still can't figure out how to sleep.

The 15th Anniversary Tommy Reunion Concert was stellar! Poor Alice Ripley, I wish they'd turned on you microphone. They kept showing clips from the Broadway show. It was such an amazing and captivating production. So dark and amazing. Marcia Mitzmin Gaven still has it too! Not to mention she looked amazing! I actually wish they'd revive it, with no real changes, it's honestly an Amazing Journey to watch that show.

I wish I could sleep. I really wish I could sleep.

Monday, December 15

The Who's Tommy Reunion

Two Things.

One.

I'm seeing the The Who's Tommy the musical's 15th Anniversary Concert tonight. This show came out in 1993/94 and was about to close until they performed on the Tony Awards. I wish I could've seen it on Broadway. It's one of my favorite soundtracks...

Two.



In New Orleans. At Pat O'Briens. We discovered Babs Woods. She played the piano, took requests and made darling jokes to her drunken audience members...

The Great Work Has Begun

Finals, finals, finals. I'm jobless. I'm tired. Blah blah blah. I think I'm dependent on Ambien. I have finished most of my projects, but what of the tests? Blah blah blah. I am reading Angels and Demons, I feel so common. That book is like an amusement park ride, I don't need to do any work. I got the crappiest gift in the White Elephant Gift Exchange. Cause someone did not want to get a crappy gift, I took it. I don't really care. Blah blah blah. In five days I'll be upstate for ten days. In fifteen days, I'll be back in the city looking for jobs. Blah blah blah. Will anyone hire me? Where do I want to work? I have class, though it seems pointless to go cause one of my teachers a crazed bitch who sued Jonathan Larson, after his death, I might add. Blah blah blah. I will be driving a rent-a-car when I get home, is that even allowed? What does the future hold? Where will I be in years to come? Will I make it to the end of all this? Yes, I know I will.

Sunday, December 14

First Thing...

Something about my High School Years just clicked...

I need time to figure this one out.

Saturday, December 13

The Many Faces of Eve — A Series

Though she'd hate that I've turned her into a study, but this girl has some interesting faces. I present The Many Faces of Eve:

Smile

Drunk Smile

Ecstatic

Teary-eyed

Distressed

Smudge

wtf?

The Days of Wine and Roses

It seems those days have come to a close. The Depression has begun. Bank account is at a lower level than it's ever been. This is not necessarily a surprise. It's my father's way of handling it that was a surprise. I was in pharmacy filling my Ambien prescription, because I need my pills during times of stress.

He spoke to me with the same sharp tongue that I learned from him. Saying exactly what needed to be said, my ego took the pain. I hung up, bent down in an aisle and wept for a moment. I stood outside the store and felt the chilling wind string my eyes. Freezing my tears until a new ice age could begin.

I returned home and worked. I called him back and apologized and he said we'd talk when I came to visit. Oh joy, oh rapture.

The final countdown has begun. Papers and projects are already underway. Is it truly Saturday? For it doesn't feel like it, it feels more like a Sunday or Monday. Who knows where the time goes?

Lastly, my roommate sang last night in a cabaret at Don't Tell Mama's. The songs were so-so, but her voice was superb. She sang about being a caterpillar, a caterpillar with huge lungs. Since it's Christmas time and I love to hear her voice. I'll share this...



Oh and she sings this to me every night before I go to bed. No lie.

Tis The Season

To cry in a CVS. After your dad successfully reminds you what an irresponsible person you are. Just cause you went to go see Milk twice.

Happy holidays.

Friday, December 12

Thus It Returned

I am sleepless. I am without sleep. I knew it was bound to happen with the finals and such.

It's been a big night! I finished On The Road and Oz all in the same day!

First, On The Road was truly amazing. It opened my eyes to a whole different style of writing. I loved the homosexual context. As the book drew closer to an end, I was torn about the character of Dean. His madness! It seemed so familiar to me. The ending when Dean could only whisper, he wasn't able to speak audibly or coherently.

I see images of myself driven that far and into that stupor. I fear the rejection by people who once cared about you. Yet, Dean is the ultimate loner. Another reason I relate to him. His life is like the wind and he floats like a leaf on it. If that be my fate, then I guess I will have to go gracefully.

The book was amazing and I hope to never forget it. When Dean would go into rapture while listening to music or see a landscape and just burst into sobs. I felt such a linking with those moment. Am I a Beat? Destined to a dead generation movement.

Oz is done and ended as it began. No one has really changed, people have died. They would've be replaced. Adebisi was my favorite and will always be my favorite on that show. The show took character types of all kinds, then added the fact that they were prisoners.

They had already ascended justice. This was a prison filled with demi-Gods. They stole, killed and threatened. No one was to powerful, because they were all in an equal playing cage. You'd route for Beecher, because he was the good one. Was he? Or was his crime that he was to good. He cared to much and that's why he still ended up in jail.

Lastly, now this one is a dozy, but I'll articulate to the best of my abilities.

Tonight, the boy who told me he likes me. He went on a little speech that had to do with God. How his praying has helped him find a decent apartment and to find this job so quickly. He believes that all he needs is a boyfriend and he'll be good to go in life.

He told me how he prays and asks his parents to pray for him. Recently his prayers have all been answered. Then he continued on with how he's upset because he has no one to complain to. As God rewards the virtuous, he will also punish his children because they believed they deserved things in earnestly.

I sat there and only could agree. I don't want to burn a bridge with him yet, I don't intend to. I did ask him, "Why are you complaining if all these good things have come your way? You seem to only be complaining about how no one will listen to you complain." In short, that you have no one to coddle you!

Of course my statement was taken in offense. Where I had to make clear that I asked him repeatedly to tell me what was wrong, yet the only thing he could come up with was that was his major complaint.

I suppose that's where the Boyfriend will come in. Someone to share your sorrows with, who has no choice to to listen and take it in.

I told him good luck to finding that, as I have had no luck. His response was, "We're two different stories."

I quickly needed to end the conversation, as I was getting a little irked. I didn't know how to politely ask, what makes us so different? That you're pure and have God on your side? And I'm a tainted heathen who is Godless and bound for sadness?

I know it's over exaggerating, but we're close in age. We've had different starting off points. I am sure he'll find love and a boyfriend in a snap. He'll look and it'll be amazing and I'll be bitter. Or will I? I don't know these days.

I'm sure that's how the whole story will go. I was bothered by how he was not necessarily telling me about his accomplishments. He kept reminding me how praying to God got them for him. I am sorry, friend, but I bought into him for a while and life wasn't that way for me.

I am anything but a stable or happy person right now. Do I feel that it's because I lack God's light in my life. I would certainly hope it's not that simple, as if I went to H&M over American Apparel, thus missing a great sale. My action's are done, I have given myself experience in life. The bitterest of life's experiences, yet they are my own.

I let his talk of God get to me because I hear bragging. "I pray...look what came into my life." There is no advice he can pass onto me, except the feeling of confusion.

Has everything bad happened because I stopped praying? The homelessness, the scabies, the drugs, the sex, the virus, the tears, the sobs, the dark nights, the loss of time, the insomnia and all other aspects of this. Has all this been God's justified punishment for my leaving him? And if that is the case, isn't it true that sometimes you can go to far when disciplining someone you love. You can take that step and get to greedy for seeing the victim suffer.

And in turn something clicks in the victim's mind. Perhaps, God didn't foresee this at all. I am sure he is bound to make mistakes.

I was being punished by God, I'll allow that fact to be true. I wanted life to earnestly, I was greedy and unknowing.

Why would I ever return to someone who has knowingly put me through so much pain? How could I go back to someone who I know rewards the simple and punishes those who want to discover?

The spark of creation, is burning bright inside me.

I appreciate this boy's honesty and his openness. Yet, he speaks of God from only a positive light. I am sure he knows the bad things, but I can tell him of my woes and we'll see. Maybe I won't, because it will take a lot of energy, I do feel this is true.

Thursday, December 11

It Baffles Me

Last night my aunt came into town and bought me a steak. This is the good aunt, the one I love and enjoy. I got drunk with her, which was nice. I based a lot of my personality off of hers, she taught me to be upfront and not take shit.

We remembered stories of days past, like old friends. When we used to sit up and watch the Home Shopping Network and mock the dolls they sold. We laughed at the poor people who could only afford Cubic Zirconium Diamonds. I ate to many Sour Cream and Onion Pringles and threw up all over her floor and she made me clean it up (I was 10 years old), because she could not stand the smell.

She remembered the story of how I named her first daughter. Which is true. I can't remember this, but I called her up (when I was 12) and told said:
E.Iguana (12-years-old version of the older): Aunt, I have been thinking. You want to name the baby Christy, right? Well I can't allow you to do that because Christy sounds so much like Chris. Which as you know, is my brother's name. As you also know, I just became a middle child. This has been a year celebrating my siblings! So if you name your daughter Christy, that will remind me to much of my family. I don't think I could ever love her if that was the case.

Aunt: Okay. What do you want to name her?

E.Iguana: Lately, I've been very into the name Leah.

And it was done. That conversation was verbatim. Just so you're aware. I would like to believe I was articulate as a kid.

Tuesday, December 9

New Favorite Story Song

I love the tale this song weaves. The lyrics are amazing and to hear Barbara Cook sing it is stunning and life changing. Until then, he does an okay job...


I'm "Brave"

When I'm not freaking out about finals or not sleeping. I am like this:



Or this:



Oh wait, there really is no difference is there?

Sunday, December 7

Another Glass of Milk

I've been working on some projects today. It's going to be a long day indeed! Lots of standing in the cold, watching a director make cut after cut after cut.

Reminder: Pick up heating pads.

It's so interesting how people just stand around, not moving. Half of them aren't necessary. You just stand there in the cold and hope and pray they get it correct soon. So you can move on. Then he says, "Cut, print!" and the tension is gone.

My only real job is to hold coats, and return them to actors when they're in between shoots. It must be done, and I am to carry that job out. Alas, this is life!

Before this marathon starts, I am happy to say I am going to see Milk again! It's the one luxury I will allow myself this weekend. Elizabeth and I hung out last night, making funny stories of our lives. As well as stringing up popcorn and turning our rubber tree plant. It's a very Charlie Brown Christmas this year.

Is it really December 6th? When did that happen! Oh my goodness, less than two weeks and it'll be through. I have decided (either for punishment or retribution) I will be returning home from December 20th until the 30th.

It's been five years since I have willingly been home for more than 4 days at a time. The one summer of my youth with Jeremy doesn't count. I was much younger then. I can't go back there anymore...

Reminder: I love you, still.

He came back into my life and helped me with a Biology lab. I always knew I had fallen in love with him, for his genius brain. I love smart men. They don't exist here in the Theatrical world. We're all to emotional in this world.

To stay warm tonight, I will be wearing these:

Saturday, December 6

Long Day's Journey

My wardrobe gig started. I performed the last 24 hours for my roommate in the kitchen tonight. It was a one man act of perfection. Unfortunately, I'm now to tired to live it here. I'm sleepy and focusing on finals. I'm choosing my moments as if I'm playing Chess.

During stressful times, all I want to hear is vocalists. Powerful singers keep me going.

I am going to reacquaint myself with Oz. IF you'll excuse me...

Oh, one last thing. Last night a girl called me brave when I showed her my Halloween photos. She's southern so that's probably the polite version of stupid. I was a little touched and I stopped and replied, "Thank you, no one ever called it that before."

I need to stop reading so much Eugene O'Neill.

Overbooked?

It's 4 AM. Finals are my life. I haven't consistently been to the gym in over a week. I feel my eyes constantly tearing up.

I am more messy than I have ever been. It's finals time, I am like a hurricane, destroying all in my wake. I designed a set today while listening to Shirley Bassey for hours on end. After three hours of her nonstop, I realized something was wrong and switched to Rilo Kiley.

Then I worked wardrobe for a TV Pilot that will not take off. If it did, then I would be amazed. It's experience and interesting. I am going to bed soon because low and behold we have to get up and be there again at 1 PM to[day]morrow. Luckily, it's down the street, which makes me happy. Unfortunately I won't have time for the gym...as far as I know I'm not waking up to go in the morning.

I miss the gym, I miss the gym. I miss the gym! I want to run again. Oh, Ambien, you kick in so quickly. I am going to lay down.

I am going to try and appear coherent for the next couple of weeks. I will fail often, almost more than often. I'm waiting for little things to make me happy.

For example. I've been promised a ticket to see Liza at the Palace from my roommate. I'm waiting for when it will appear. With finals I fear that may be a promise that just may not happen. Or, I am waiting for the Support Group to contact me about an intake session. Yet, no one has called. It's made me nervous. I should call back, but I'm so busy I forget.

It's still 4 AM.

Then there's me, waiting, for the grace of God to show up. I am waiting for my body to change and tell me it's okay to smile again. It's okay to clean up the room and get a job again. It's okay, you're worth something these days.

The computer screen is starting to move slowly in my drugged up eyes. So I'll end this quickly. I am in a state of emotional stress. Oh, but I know we all are. So in my defense, just be understanding and be polite.

Take a moment in your life to tell someone you know that you love them. Or give someone a gift. Or reconnected with a new person and show them you care too. Don't allow others to feel as lonely as you yourself have become.

Everything is swirly right now

Oh, finals times. How strangely written you are.

Thursday, December 4

Judy, Judy, Jenny

So, Judy Collins. Yea, I get why you're so famous now. This song is beautiful, she seems like she was just a pretty lady who could sing well. So she just sang other people's songs. At first I wasn't impressed then songs like this came along:



I am converted. I read up on her past and I'm actually moved by it. What an interesting life. She played the clubs until she got picked up, at 22 she sang The Maid of Constant Sorrow. I just listened to it and felt my life sung to me.

Then there is this lady I have just come into contact with. Her name is Jenny Lewis. She is the voice of her own band, Rilo Keily and The Postal Service.



Acid Tongue is a song I can relate to.

I suggest giving them all a listen to. It seems like during finals I am weening myself to the vocalists.

Wednesday, December 3

Endings and Beginnings

I am home from New Orleans.

I am working on that tale. Now begins the final three weeks of insanity that teachers like to pretend is "normal". The projects, on top of tests, on top of presentations, on top of first and final drafts, on top of biology labs, on top of scheduling for classes.

It is hell these next few weeks. I will be living off the money I don't have anymore. I will be doing final projects until I bleed. And I WILL bleed, trust me.

I am exhausted and I need to sleep. Tomorrow is the beginning of a marathon I don't wish to run in. Finals have never been my forte, but finals without financial stability is even worse.

I am taking an Ambien, falling into a sleepless haze and hoping that all the answers come to me in a grand dream.

I will return in full mind.