You Are My Friend — Patti LaBelle

This is how I feel right now. If I were a black woman, or Dorian Corey, I would sing this proudly.



Black Ladies Sing So Powerfully!

An Epilogue to the GC

The title is all. This was a good day, not how I expected it to turn out and that's all I can really say.

Whenever I dream...

I wish I had fallen asleep at say, 1 am. Or even 2 am. Yet I had more thoughts filling my mind, that I couldn't push out. The Tall Man and The Gentleman Caller both just came in and took rule of my thoughts.

So in short I'm feeling pretty low today. The Tall Man wrote back. He's on his business trip now. Meaning he was probably lying to me about going then. Who knows. He apologized more and I cried more. It's SO easy to be the one who cares. Any pain you caused me...seriously? Okay, I'm not going to play victim right now, but don't, just don't.

I may go see this because I'm having troubles focusing on life...

Trying for Depth

I'm gonna try and be deep right now. Well as deep as I can be, which I'm sure is like a small koi pond. I suppose I'll start this post with a poem, as I am sure all deep thinkers do. They begin their thoughts with an opening act:

Oh, Oh, You Will Be
Sorry for that Choice—Redux
By E.Iguana

Oh, oh, you will be sorry for that choice!
Take a moment to fathom what went wrong.
Was it my mouth or my movements that,
Offended you firsthand?
"Oh but I still wish to remain friends!"
Seriously,is that the game you wish to play?
Trying to become the better man,
And I'm supposed to sit here and smile because
You wish to preserve a friendship!
Oh, I will love you still, and all of that,
I will be your pal; granting this wish you request.
I shall be called a close friend and,
Will live up to the title to the nth degree;
You will not see any jealousy of me,
Because I am playing the role a trusty comrade does.
But some insane day, your life has turned
Upside down and inside out.
I shall be waiting and with open arms,
And with my comfort, I shall feel vindicated!

So that's me being angstyish and deep. My Koi pond has pebbles. So onto real issues...

The technical rehearsal for my play didn't take long and wasn't half as painful as I expected. That's because they gave me stuff to do on the light board. Which was an amazing experience! I love wardrobe, yet it was nice to actually be part of the show. "Cue 2...go!" How thrilling to feel that surge through my body as I pushed the button and saw the lights change. And since I like pushing buttons, I was as happy as a monkey.

Then thoughts have been coming and going through my head. I was thinking of meeting up with The Gentleman Caller. Now I'm not one for the dramatics. My life is very boring, I just make it exciting. When I think about this impending meeting I am filled with frustration and anger I know I may do something ridiculous. In my mind I want to slap him, and I am convinced I will feel justified. Someone said, "You won't really do it." Which I agree 95% of the time people don't feel that passionate.

Yet, I think about these discussion items I want to bring up: How dare you pretend we haven't not spoken in 6 months and want to pick up where you left off! How dare you play these mind games with a 22-year-old and never hone up to the responsibilities being the mature 30-year-old that you are! How dare you lead me on for over a year and never wish to bring it out into the open and when I finally was honest with you, you play it off as nothing! Add in how he has a personality disorder and then make him pay for dinner.

I'm not looking to make another friend. The way you treated me shows that you aren't really looking for a friend either.

Wow, typing that out has left me breathless.

The new issue is of my person. I'm trying to figure out what I want, who I am and who I want to become. This all in all is a very trying business on one's emotions. So for the time being I've sworn off sexual encounters with men. This may not seem like the wrong choice, but I'm afraid that I will eventually fear sex. The whole idea that -- I will either separate or give to much liberty to the Romantic Era that seems to have taken refuge in my body. Plus to learn who you are, I do believe that you need human contact in the naked sense. It's how to learn about yourself. So that's what I need to figure out.

So I think that's enough deep thoughts for now. I don't want to O.D.

Sunday in my Mind

It's Sunday, I'm feeling much healthier this morning. My night sweats are proving legendary. I wake up halfway through the night and feel the coolness on my next and body. This is another new sensation I have never felt before. There are no hurried dreams to accompany these sweats. No nightmarish images in my mind when I wake. I simply wake because I am chilled by my own expulsion of fluids.

Upon feeling better this morning. Fire Island was an even more terrific experience (notice I don't say play) than I gave it credit for last night. And while we're on the subject, lets discuss Glory Days the musical written by two 23-year-olds about four 20-year olds!

I'll be the first to admit this twisting I feel in my body is caused by jealousy. That these two guys are really cool and nice in person. That the show just comes off as an awful idea in theory. All these probably true notions aside...

I think this show sounds utterly awful, literally. I just finished listening to some of the songs on myspace and my eardrums ruptured. I also find the mounting of this show incredibly arrogant. My one friend pointed out someone is blowing someone in this little deal.

The fact that this kid believes that his freshman year of college was so life changing and these four friends reunite and learn they're ALL not the same person. Even if it's based on "true events" the storyline points out so many inconsistencies and annoyances. For example, if these four friends were really good friends...were they not E-MAILING each other. These events happened four years ago, there was the internet. Sure you couldn't relay the whole emotional event through IM, but you could say, "Just came out...totally a fag now! Just a heads up so when summer comes it won't be weird."

Another friend of mine put it best when he said, "Everyone feels that in their freshman year of college, but no one WRITES about it." But these two guys did. These two guys did.

Unless between the four of these guys combined they come back from college and all of the following has happened:

One is a homosexual, drug addicted, tranny, escort, homeless, HIV positive, has a dead wife and kids who are hunting him out, dropped out of college, rejoined but under the seminary and has a scat fetish he imposes on the others.

Unless that happens, I will not be emotional moved in the least. However, if that has happened. Then I will eat crow.

Lastly, and this is a hoot for all three of you who've been with me for a while...

The Gentleman Caller has contacted me!

I'll admit it was partially of my doing. I sent out a mass email to all those who STILL HAVEN'T DONATED to the AIDSwalk. I basically addressed it to everyone in my address book.

He served:

I hope you have been doing well these last several months. I don't read your blog anymore but I see you online and your gmail "status" is always interesting (China, etc...). I have been doing pretty well. I got a job back at my old firm, _______, in research and started on March 31st. There's a lot to learn but I needed a challenge again.

Funny enough, I received a notice for "gift renewal" from The New Yorker for your subscription, which reminded me how you've been in your apartment for nearly a year now, which is just crazy. Are you still liking it? I hope you are -- it's such a nice area.

I know that I was a bit of a jerk in October when we stopped talking and there's no need for me to give some lame laundry list of excuses as to why I was acting the way I was then. Suffice it to say, I am sorry for the way I acted.

If you are interested, maybe we could get together for some drinks some time soon. It would be nice to see you (I've actually let my hair grow back out so that it's parted and I also have a beard now...). I'm available pretty much every night next week.

I respond:

You must allow me to be a little spacey, which I know I've always been, in trying to pretend I'm all cool and calm with the sudden email. I'm not mad or upset, just surprised. You blocked me from communicating with you in the main way, which was G-Chat and as ridiculous as that may sound. It's actually a normal form of communication. So I just assumed that I would never heard from you again.

I was pissed off at how you were acting towards me after the trip. I couldn't honestly believe that you forgot about my in these concert tickets when you'd discussed it with me several times before that. Anyway, I appreciate that you're apologizing, when you tell me in person I'll consider it worthy of accepting. Sorry if I'm coming off sounding angry, but to be truthful I am peeved.

That all aside, I would like to meet soon. I have to talk with you about life and how you've been despite my anger and frustration at life. I know I am a creature capable of forgiving and moving on. Plus I'm much more of a stoner than I was before, so most often I'm very calm, but always alert!

I'm just warning you ahead of time, I could cry when we meet. I won't probably since I've called it out ahead of time. I have spring break this coming week so I'm busy Mon-Wed working my 2-10 shift. Thursday or Friday could work, but it wouldn't be enough time I'd like. So I will need a few moments to figure out when exactly. What about your weekends? My new phone number is ________. I'm all Brooklyn now, with my area code. Don't call me until I see you first, just leave it to texts and feel free to G-chat hello I suppose.

Call me a bitch, but that's how I play these days.

Trying on my cupid wings

Interesting news, well at least to me. The Tall Man and I have a Valentine's date. Or so he asked me. I mean I'm excited, but I don't count V-day for much. That aside since I have one and most people won't, I guess I'm a little excited. The text was cute:

Tall Man: Hey there sexy. Wednesday no good - VB and NJ Thursday AM. Wanna be my valentine Thurs night instead? Dinner?

Of course I smiled to myself and thought, "Men do make passes on girls who wear glasses." I'm pretty happy I admit that the idea of Me+Valentines Day entered his head. A year ago I can tell you that The Gentlemen Caller would have ASKED me out on Valentine's Day. Then proceeded to have sex with me and perhaps give me a gift in between. Then deny that he ever had any sort of feelings for me. Wait I feel as if this story really did happen, but I checked back and I was wrong. Forgive me, I don't mean to cause slander.

Going back to my old OLD blog, I am all retrospective. It's so sappy of me. Moving on with me thoughts...

So I am on the final pages of Harry Potter (which people will wonder why I am not finishing it as we speak...maybe I should. It will get done when it gets done...After that I plan on East of Eden. Oh Steinbeck, we meet at last. Let the games begin!

For The Tall Man I bought him a V-day gift. Not necessarily a gift for that day, I usually buy things all the time for people I like. It's the Cancer in me. Not Cancer as in Tumors, I mean zodiac. He likes Jane Austen...he's a sensative soul and no, he's not a bottom.

I purchased a book called Lost In Austen: Create Your Own Jane Austen Adventure Choose your own adventure, but the character is Elizabeth Bennett. I thought it was kind of genius! It also has a cute little scoring system. Where it's like, "You've impressed Mr. Darcy you gain 10 communication points."

Somewhere Ms. Austen is doing cartwheels...Jerome Robbins' Choerographed cartwheels.

I hope he enjoys it. If not I'll just gouge my eyes out. Well not really. I can tell he'll like it. I think tonight is the night I watch Gone With the Wind...after Harry Potter.

Patterns in Life

On this week, a year ago I wrote this:

So really quick cause that's apprently how my life is about to move...

Cause I don't have time to REALL type out an entry I'll just post the email I just wrote to a friend explaining my situation. I'm freaking out right now. But I do love my Post-Script. Even in times of panic I still think about theater.



J,

Its completely understandable, I am sorry that happened. It was sort of sucky, the guy who I was "dancing" with revealed he was totally gay when he spoke with CJ. He didn't even like me enough to talk to me after we shared such a special moment. haha.

So about the actual REAL news in my life. I am trying my best to stay calm, but it was in Philosophy where I started losing my nerve. Neil has mentioned how the lease is up in October. Meaning if they don't let the woman renew her lease, I have to be out soon. I'm trying not to cry but I feel tears coming. I have never felt this tense in my life. Neil is in a messy state, he's nervous as hell and it only made me feel worse. He is all paranoid that the landlord caught on that I was living there (by asking our neighbors) because they're the only people who could possibly know I'm "living" there. And that that may be the reason they're not renewing the lease.

That's what's in his head. What is more reasonable is apprently several months ago some bitchy tenant on a different floor accused Neil of subletting from the woman (they have told everyone they're dating and she is away in Europe for a while) and that she probably complained to the landlord (as people aren't allowed to sublet in that building apprently...I have no real idea. Neil tells me this ALL today) So the woman called and told him they're not letting her renew the lease, but she doesn't know 100% why. So he's feeling this immense guilt trip thinking about telling the woman that I was there for a little bit inbetween apartments. I told him to just play stupid until information is told to him. Also he started freaking out MORE because someone rang the buzzer, no one EVER does and someone came to the door, Neil didn't answer cause he just got that phone call. So in short his stress has moved to me, yadda yadda and I'm about to cry. So I'm trying to just figure out what to do, I'm gonna call Scott when I get home from school to ask about that room and then there's like two other possible things, but other than that I may have to move in less than a month and really that doesn't wear right on the soul.

I'm sitting in class thinking. OMG I need to find a place to move, I need to find time to move and I need to possibly do this in all of about 2-3 weeks. Therapy has to wait it seems and a nervous breakdown in on the edge. I'm in midterms, I've got papers due, I have work to go to, and all this other stuff. Now I need to move, I'm terrified of moving again and having what happens happens. Do you think you'd be able to help me rent a Uhaul when the time comes, there is a place right down the road. I don't want to hire movers again.

Craig

P.S. Did you ever find someone to tak the extra ticket to My Deah? I could have someone in mind. I know that's not really top priority but I was wondering.


I guess if anyone can help me out I would appreciate that, but it's just hope I'm living on.

I realized that this explains why I'm having the issues I'm having right now. A year ago I was in panic mode, the only thing I could think of was staying afloat, staying in the city. I didn't worry about the future, only making it to the next day.

This year being a little less hectic of course it's natural that I'm finding something to worry about that involves future plans. I shouldn't worry, yet I do. It's weird to have had the year I had last year. What's stranger is that marking this week means the year is done officially and these struggles officially become memory.

I am trying my best to keep my spirits up and all that other rut. It's funny that with the marking of this year ending. I look back and see so much that's changed, yet it all seems to little.

This also marks the official entrance of the GC into my life, him being absent for a bit while he was on a trip. Being grateful and helpful to give me a place to stay and help during the hard times. It's not difficult to see why I felt the way I did for him, with the kindness he gave to me. It's also somewhat ironic that he's really no longer in my life at all anymore. Yearly cycles truly are so strange, yet the patterns always prove to be the same.

And thus the caterpillar sheds it's cocoon and becomes a butterfly.

Knowing When To Leave

Go while the going is good

Jill O'Hara sang is very well, but Betty Buckley is redefining it for me right now. In my regular insomnia of cycle that I've been having for weeks now. I'll fall asleep soon I am very sure of it. I skipped the gym today and that was my folly. I wanted to get rest from the early wake up call of Saturday. Yet, it was a sleep filled with nightmares.

Knowing when to leave may be the smartest thing that anyone can learn.

I watched at people got crushed and contorted, yet still remained alive. I watched people I didn't know get tortured and I was helpless to do anything. I just watched. No one specifically in my life really. It could've been the cast of Heroes and I wouldn't have known who they were.

At one point a monstrous wardrobe swallowed two people and the doors slammed shut. I rushed to it to hear their screams as they were slowly being digested on the inside. I wanted to try and crack it open, but I have seen one to many movies and knew that they were lost and even if I got them out, they'd be a mess. So I let them die...

I'm afraid my heart, isn't very smart...

In other news. I am buying a sewing machine tomorrow. Part of my stress has been school and getting all my sewing done. I don't have time to sign up during my free time with everything else. Also, since I enjoy Costume Construction and actually am very interested in it, I don't want to do badly in the class because of my lack of time. With other classes this feeling on inadequacy has made me want to just take a Sabbatical. Find myself. Which leads me to my next topic...

Foolish as it seems, I still have my dreams.

I have been in a horrible mood in the last week. Bad news didn't help. Added with frustration and other things. I have come to the conclusion I am horribly unhappy with myself. I can't clearly articulate the feelings, but it's late and I am going to try...

I am at the point that I feel like a standstill. Change is coming, whether if be forced or not. Idle hands are the Devils playground, I suppose. Yet my idle hands haven't touched that swing set in a while. I am disgusted with people who are older than 25, right now. Why?

So I keep hoping day after day as I wait for the man I mean.

The Gentleman Caller says that I shouldn't feel like an object. HA! Of all the people to say such a thing. He is a friend, I do agree. Yet, I sometimes wonder how long I will be held onto until he solves his issues with himself and meets someone and suddenly I'm just the 21 year old who was.

The phrase that caught me was, "We can do the deed when we're at Busch Gardens." The deed?

Well I don't want to bother you, but since we're sharing the same bed I guess I could oblige you, Sir.

I am glad truly glad you made some guy have the best sex of his life the other day. I truly am. Yet when you said, "Then why doesn't he return back if I was so amazing?" I wanted to just raise my hand. Instead, I gagged in my mouth for a moment, resisting the urge to scream. I have to wait three weeks to have sex with you? Seriously?

Deep down, whoever you are...

Then there is the Cyclist. Who's blatant objectifying me is as obvious as the awful text messages he sends me. He was on a role this Sunday until he blundered it up. I had to cut him off and let him go. Like those fish I caught this summer. Sea Bass truly are the worst fish to catch and must be sent back.

My mother raised something to be proud of, not a Distraction.

The moment came later that night. In a sign that only myself and a few others can appreciate. I will retell the tale though, since it must be told:

I was riding the subway. Biting my lip and trying to read The Golden Compass. Meanwhile, down the train was an adorable gay couple. My age I'd guess, scruffy and in that moment of their relationship where only they felt each other existed. Both very attractive.

I do believe at this point my lip started to bleed.

At every stop I watched them to see if they'd leave, wondering where two adorable guys like that would be heading to. Probably Christopher St or something. Yet they didn't get off. I started to wonder the last time I ever felt that way with a guy. I don't know if I ever have...

No I have, when I was younger, in my teens. When I believed that guys were capable of that type of romance. Then down the train there was proof that it still happens...to others. I had a pure teenager moment when I thought, "They why hasn't it happened to me?"

As I turned to read my book, my gaze was caught instead by something else. I saw myself in the reflection of the Subway window. If there is a reflection you don't want to see yourself in and suddenly have a revelation. It's in a subway window, while two gay guys cuddled only feet away.

Yet I looked at myself.

To add the the moment, Lucy and Jessie started to play on my ipod. A song I knew was soon to be followed with Live, Laugh, Love. This song was just after Losing My Mind played. Let me tell you, never before has three songs in consecutive order EVER made such a moment in my life. I watch the couple as Barbara Cook sings, "Losing my Mind."

You said you loved me...or were you just being kind.

Then I see myself and Lucy and Jessie starts to ring out of Lee Remick's mouth. I just stared at myself. What did I do to deserve this moment? What did I see? I saw someone who I couldn't take seriously. I was wearing a tight fitting shirt that I got from a teenage girl's store and made my body look...well good.

Yet I wondered what do people see when they see me? Do they laugh that I would wear this? Do they seem something frivolous, not worth more than sex? Do they feel intimidated? Something not worth more than a moments glance?

Here comes, Live, Laugh, Love. I can't stop the thoughts now. Things need to change, I see something that other people don't. I don't know what the difference is, but it confuses me. I wish I could see myself through others eyes. So I could get a grasp onto things.

Success is swell, success is sweet...

The train came to my stop. And I saw it coming as the couple got off the train with me. To do what people in love do at 10:30 pm. I can't possibly tell you what anymore. Sleep? Talk about the future together?

Me I like to live! Me I like to love, Me I like...me...love..me...I don't love me...

I think it's time to try that sleeping thing...

Iguana Isn't Sure

Something tells me the Margaret Garner that I saw tonight at the NYC Opera, with The Gentleman Caller, will not become a household name. I mean it is a modern Medea tale. Then again what story isn't nowadays? I did get to see Toni Morrison in person. The only thing I could really ever say to her is, "Thank you for writing The Color Purple...because without it we wouldn't have the amazing movie and the interesting musical." Which would give her every right to slap me.

It had some decent orchestrations and Morrison reminded me of Handel...you know...she kept repeating the same line over and over again. It just failed to excite me. The lead never got a chance to really sing. In an Opera the lead woman (of who the opera is about) should have a "alone on the stage balls out this is MY show" song. Like Butterfly or Tosca have. It shows you who owns the stage. Yet, she had none really. The Plantation owner got two of those numbers and he bored me to tears.

What sort of annoyed me most of all was the fact that Garner wasn't hanged for killing her children. She died of Typhoid Fever. Why add a trial and a hanging scene? I know for dramatic effect, but it just seems ridiculous.

The boy who played her son (who was probably only like 6 or 7) he played the BEST dead body I've EVER seen...EVER!

And I've seen a lot of dead bodies.

It's good to see brand new works, so in that I'm happy. Plus it means that the Opera season has started. I just need to pick and choose wisely.

Kiss of The Spider Woman...AMAZING book. I am more than half way done and tomorrow and Thursday I plan on finishing it before the show.

I've discussed the Gentleman Caller enough this past week so I am going to forgo and thoughts on him tonight....

Three days off starting tomorrow (today) and hopefully going home this Friday/Saturday and laying my hands on my passport...Haircut tomorrow. Boring day, not much to report.

Amazing update on the normal life though! I "dumpster dived" and got a two drawer dresser and a small table...for the first time in over a year...I lie to you not. I have put my clothes away officially! They are in drawers! My room as suddenly expanded immensely. It's like I live in a palace now! Oh my! You don't know what this feeling is like.

It was so liberating, coming home at midnight. Seeing the furniture on the side of the street on the walk home. Going home and changing into normal clothes. Going back out, in shorts, a T-shirt and flip flops. I walked down the block and proved that I am actually VERY strong as I carried the heavy dresser back to my room. There was sweat, buckets of sweat. Some teats...almost. Then a lot of cleaning with antiseptic wipes. Much of that. After finishing I smiled. Sure the drawers are a little iffy and broken (they do work though), but I did it...on my own.

Here in Grey Gardens...

Iguana Is Fantastick!

The weekend moved by quickly, but quite enjoyably. Some ups and downs, but mostly ups. What's more surprising is the fact that this coming week, because my school is filled with many Jewish students. I only have class Monday and Tuesday. How insane is that? With Labor day, followed by this coming week with three days off, I feel I can't fully get into the school "mood." I know that come October and November I won't feel the same way.

This weekend was enjoyable because I finally saw The Fantasticks with the Gentleman Caller. He likes to rub it in that out of the "handful" of shows he's seen, he has seen like 2-3 that I have never seen. It's when he says things like that, that I am filled with the urge to slap him across the face. Figuratively not literally. He knows it bothers me and I find that admirable...I think.

What's great about finally seeing The Fantasticks is that I can NOW listen to the CD I've had for months and understand what is going on. It truly is one of those shows that you need to see before actually hearing it.

This should come as no surprise, but I found myself incredibly drawn to The Girl (or Luisa as she's called). Maybe it's the fact that Liza once played the role and I feel universally drawn to her. Not only that, she played it opposite Elliot Gould. So therefore if their characters procreated and Liza had a child (understand, this is ALL a hypothesis) that child would most likely be me.

It was more of the fact that The Girl is the dreamer of the show. Her song Much More was fascinating, and she had these quirky lines like, "I am special...please God, please! Don't let me be normal!" I sat there thinking, "Oh...I've said that many a time."

The show reminded me of a smaller version of Candide. It shared the idea that dreams don't last forever and reality, no matter how cruel must set in eventually.

Sometimes you need to die a little in order to grow.

The rest of the night was supposed to be spent in Astoria, Queens at a Dollywood Vs. Bollywood theme Birthday Party. With two DJ's literally spinning Dolly Parton and Indian Mixes. It was ultimately not in my Destiny to never go to this party. While waiting at my friend's apartment before the party, I went to use the bathroom.

While I was out of the room they got into a trivial fight. About what time we were supposed to leave. I feel that my being present at the time of this fight caused one of the couple to get flustered and he just left the apartment without saying a word, while I sat there. The other and I sat there watching TV for another hour, until he proclaimed that he wasn't going to the party. This one, not going, being my better friend (and the fact I was supposed to spend the night at the end of the party at their place, and he would leave much sooner than the other) gave me an address to meet the others at the party. I wasn't about to go now.

The Gentleman Caller to the rescue.

He let me come over to his place, because I didn't want to go home and I like to see him. We watched half of Capote and now I want to read In Cold Blood. Seeing as I have two books, amongst many other books for school, to read. I will put that one for later.

Speaking of which, I'm currently trying to speed through Manuel Puig's The Kiss of the Spider Woman before I see the musical. I'm not entirely upset if I don't finish reading it, the book is immensely different. It's brilliantly written, entirely in conversations between the two prisoners. Molina is such a lovely character, entrancing for me to read, yet he isn't perfect. It's wonderful. I wish I didn't know his fate because I am sure this book, and the musical may do it too, would put me into tears when it finishes. Time will tell.

I've been spending a lot of time with The Gentleman Caller lately. I sometimes find myself confused by what he takes it all as (ha! Understatement!) I like what it is and all that comes out of it. A friendship with kissing really is what it is right now. I'm not really in the state of mind to expect anything more and I am NOT in the mood to rush anything.

Let me figure out how to make this person my friend...

I feel comfortable with him. Not completely, but personality wise I am not worrying about idle things. I can act stupid and not worry. Plus, he's very handsome. I find myself looking at him when his back is turned...in his boxers...I know that I don't often feel that with other guys.

Oh GOD! I hope he knows I'm somewhat smart...

Because I am in the mood for it...

Iguana Appreciates Brilliance

*Warning*: the post below is written by someone who is absolutely Eccentric (mad) also known as myself...You've been warned.


So much happening where to begin. First above is a picture of the late Joan Diener. God bless her rough voice, it was amazing. For those of you who don't know her she was Aldonza in the original Man of La Mancha ("One pair of arms is like the other."). Also in Kismet ("Ladies shall we begin...service? What shall be the subject of our erotic discourse?"), but what I love her for is her role in At The Grand, which was the original Grand Hotel (of course I'm talking theater not movie). Apparently, it was a hit in L.A. but it would never get to Broadway. Why?

Well kids, that's why I am here to tell you the scandalous tale of Ms. Diener...that I heard from Ken Mendelbaum...indirectly.

The lead Paul Muni suffered from Paranoia that Diener was plotting against him. I would be too, she's sort of crazy. Due to it he barely slept and suffered the entire run. When the renewal of his contract was up he refused to resign. Therefore, since it was his show, the show was finished. How did Diener seek her revenge...in ways that I only dream of...

Muni was intensely afraid of cleavage and scantily clad women (yes, he was a piece of work, right?) During the final performance, a chorus girl intentionally slapped Muni in the face with her bare breast! But, Diener really had the last laugh in my opinion...

When during her curtain call, she "turned upstage to Muni and opening her full-length mink coat to reveal herself naked but for a long-stemmed rose between her legs." Now that is was I call a genius moment! (Not Since Carrie, 216)

Joan Diener is the stuff my dreams are made of!!

Onto the real stuff...

School is school. Getting used to it and all that jazz. Pretty soon the weeks will get a little more packed, but that has stopped me from doing what I like. Here's my schedule coming up:

• Seeing the Fantasticks with the Gentleman Caller — How thrilling! Seeing history with a man who was it during it's original NY run. I say that because he's 30 now, and he's been alive for the closing of a show and for them to revive it in his life. OH Jesus when that happens to me...I'll be SO happy. I've been waiting for a proper Side Show revival! (Roundabout BETTER not touch that property!)
  
• Seeing a Margaret Garner - The Opera with the Gentleman Caller — Are we married? A girl can dream, right? Honestly, I'm really happy he's going with me. This is REALLY exciting. In case you don't know. Toni Morrison teamed up and made Beloved into an Opera. Yea, I know...My friend said it's The Color Purple meets Porgy & Bess. It's a black woman singing, in short I was destined to see it before it came out.

Now only is Jennifer Holiday would do the role.

I can just see Margaret Garner (Holliday) at Trial for the murder of her daughter telling the jury:

"And I told her, 'You're not going!
You're the best daughter I ever had,
There's no way you can ever go!
No, no there's no way! No, no, no
no way! You're being a slave!
You're not gonna be a slave!
I want you to be free!
I'm saying, I'm saying!
You, you are gonna have to die!
I'm gonna murder you for your own good!
Cause I'm your mother...'"

Now I am SURE the score is much better, but listen to my lyrics with Dreamgirls playing and sing along. See how it sounds...

Go on try it...

• I'm seeing an the first return of Kiss of the Spider Woman to NYC since it's original run with one of my best friends! — I can't wait for that...It could be great, it could be awful. Regardless, it'll be wonderful to see this show! Once again my Theatre Powers* took action. The other day I was thinking about how close to Molina I am in my dreaming (of Anita Morris of course) and I thought...I wish I could see that show...Cut to this weekend when it was announced that they're doing a production. I'm just saying, I frighten myself sometimes.

That concludes my plans for the following week...(seriously)

• Seeing King Lear starring Ian McKellan — Normally 3 hours of Shakespeare wouldn't create such excitement. But, it's every one's favorite British Gay Icon! He's naked and he's brilliant! I'm thrilled if you can't tell.

There are other things also happening. Like the fact that I feel The Cyclist has dropped me, which I'm sort of fine with. It only proves my original thesis that he was on the hunt for sex. When I didn't provide two hours every time (but WHO CAN!? Well I can, but I don't brag) he is now moving. If this is true, I have sort of won. He's proving himself to me as an incredible flake and everything I expected.

Still I will not get to live out my fantasy of one day tying him up to his bed. Dousing him in gasoline, while I wear nothing but a jockstrap. I light a cigarette and tell him about how he needs to be humbled and that I warned him I was completely insane. I toy with him for a time and finally see him humbled. I throw the cigarette onto the bed, only to have it extinguished because in fact it was just water. I look at him and say, "Don't FUCK with the feelings of a emotional Cancer!" Put on my clothes and walk out of the room...leaving him tied up all the same.**

Enough craziness for one night, don't you think?

*Granted I think about every musical in the history of theater at every moment of everyday. So it's not hard for a production to come out that I'm like, "I was just thinking about that!" Nonetheless, I surprise myself sometimes. I am sure if I wished hard enough Laurie Beechman would come back from the grave, enter my room (fez and all) and perform Joseph and the Technicolor DreamCoat for me...I'm am just saying.
**I never put this dream into action because I am all about realism and I couldn't figure out how to make it so the liquid smelled of Gasoline, but was in fact just water. I just liked the idea of it...after all it was JUST a dream...

Iguana's Labor Day Weekend

First off, WHAT is up with Ruthie Henshall in the London Cast recording of Chicago? It's as if she's intentionally trying to combine every accent she can into on human voice. It's as if Sybil was playing the role...well for all intensive purposes and I don't care what she was channeling for that show. She failed in my humble opinion...but what do I know? I love Ruthie is other things, but not in this show.

That phone keeps on ringing, then somebodies at my door.

The weekend began with a slumber party at my place with the Gentleman Caller. We ate at the English place that last week, I left in a tizzy. Deep-fried Twix are wonderful, but I need to let them cool before I burn the inside of my mouth. It's difficult since they are so mouth watering.

We then stayed at my place where we slept together, as young girls do at slumber parties in the suburbs. Like most of those young girls, we made out as well. Then after that we fell asleep...well I feel asleep.

I feel all pulled to pieces, can't find inspiration anymore.

Funny, funny thought. I have had approximately three people spend the night in my bed with me for the night. The GC, the crazy date (I am ready to make love to you now) and one of my best friend's who I saw Company with. In all of those occasions I feel that none of them slept well. My friend told me she has problems sleeping in a bed that's not her own. The crazy date was up early and as was the GC.

I wonder if my bed is only comfortable to me? Am I not a good person to sleep next to in a bed? It did dawn upon me that most people are probably pampered in the ways of sleeping. I am able to sleep in any bed or any room I am in. Next to almost anyone. A place to sleep is a place to sleep for me. Be it the floor. Next to my best friend. Or next to the Australian man who I rent from...memories sometimes aren't the best things to have.

The next day, the GC and I went to Coney Island to lay out on the sandy beach and ride the Cyclone. It was very relaxing and fun. Until the sand storms took over and I blinded. The Cyclone was fun in that historical way. I've never felt like I'd fly out of a Roller coaster before, so that was completely fun! For some reason I felt it fit to ride with a piece of gum in my mouth...

There's so many people leaning on me, I'm getting run into the ground.

After we parted ways I laid on the bed and waited for the next part of my weekend to begin...A third date with The Cyclist isn't want I necessarily wanted in my life. But, I appreciated the fact that he was free to come to the show with me. We saw a Fringe show called Piaf: Love Conquers All. It's like the movie that just came out, but on stage and sung live by the actress...it was rather impressive.

He's proving to be a much better person that I ever anticipated. Yet his motives are completely unknown to me. It's a dying cause I am sure. The end of this tale will end up with me upset and feeling like the toy. Who is so easily used and then set aside. (Simple are the ways we say goodbye) Until then, I am just playing it with no expectations. He leaves these hints that I am ignoring of my own volition.

Getting stoned and going out on the town...stupid thing I'll never do.

Yet, I do it. He's a big pothead. It's something I find fascinating in general. I would say I've done my fair share of drugs, but when I meet someone who is hooked, I find it so interesting! I believe he needs it to perform in life. He told me how he hides pot all around his apartment so he can find it and be happy he found it. Huh?

He also mentioned how he only started smoking about three years ago. Which would be when he was 24/25 years of age. That is rather late to start, which leads me to believe that his starting and it's constant point in his life means he started it to run away from something. He was tired of the monotony of life? He wanted a change? Who knows. I mean I could ask him, I'm sure he'd get offended.

In short though, knowing this makes me feel that no matter how much he may feel he knows about me and my "nervousness" that I always have something I know is wrong with him.

We went to dinner and the show in a haze. I believe I ate my entire burger in 5.3 seconds flat. We talked a lot, I found out some facts. He didn't offend me as much as he had before. He allowed me to spend the night with him. Sure that's fine. He called me his Theater Fuck buddy.

Okay, here's where I voice my complaints...

I mentioned before how he likes to be vocal with his compliments. To someone like me this doesn't hurt nor harm. It does put me on edge at times. He stares at me. I say what? He says, "Nothing, I just like to look at you, you're exceptionally cute. There's no reason...so stop asking what."

I am sorry, I wanted to respond with, "Well, when people stare at me it's only in my nature to question there motives." If he wishes to look at me in a dreamlike haze...fine, but I will never just allow the staring to keep going. He says his goal is to get me to the point where I am completely comfortable with him and myself...GOOD LUCK!

Then is his constant reminder of that I am the, "extremely amazing in bed." Then I give a muffled, "Thank you." He laughs because I'm embarrassed.

Solider...here's the deal.

I know I am amazing in bed. Why do I know this? Because people tell me. Unless the entire homosexual community is on one big joke I have a lot of validation. I have rolled around in it for over a year. I was able to go to sleep knowing that I was ahead of the game. I'm as sexually liberated as the best of them. I know what I do in bed works and I have fun with it. If a guy wants to have fun and we click he will know too.

You think when you tell me this, that it's news to me? I am GLAD you are stunned. It really makes me smile when you tell me that I am a good fuck!

In fact, I think I will write a letter to my 95 year old grandmother telling her all of the ovations I have been getting! Don't you worry, she won't be shocked. She's senile and will forget she read the letter...HELL! She won't even know who wrote it!

That aside...I would like to be known as something a little more than a good fuck! I know it's difficult. It really is. When you tell me that it causes me to sink a little more in my self esteem. I sometimes wonder if I should abstain from sex altogether. But if I did, wouldn't that be my doing a disservice to the men around me? And what kind of person would that make me? By the way to define me, I may as well just sink into the ground and die if I stop having sex.

You understand my dilemma then?

And every one's wanting something from me, and there's not enough of me to go around.