Dead Floral Tributes

I have a small Off-Broadway play I am getting paid an equally small stipend for. Paid work is better than free work. Despite the fact it's two jobs for the price of one. I can do this, I am stronger than you think. I am Assistant Stage Manager and Wardrobe Dresser. I am the Alpha and the Omega. I am the beginning and the end.

Lena Horne has died. This saddens me, I am uploading her Broadway show to listen to tomorrow.

I went to Miami for the weekend. Glamor! It was the preview to Greece. I bite my tongue when I observe how older people act. They are fun, but there is a feeling that the Ice Man Cometh at times.

I wrote the above about two weeks ago.

I come to you now. It's a simple and strange life I lead. I am discovering the idea of dating, loving, being with someone. I am still trying to understand it. We're going on to 10 months and before you know it, it will indeed be a year. How funny, the year has flown. Time does move faster as you get older.

Tonight was a first. The Construction Workers life has been difficult, as most of ours has been. He's been drinking . . .much more than I would necessarily enjoy. I see why, I know why. I am often the sober one, why is this? Is it because I am keeping my eye on him? I want to seem mature? A mixture of those feelings. Tonight he went to a birthday party at a private apartment. So the alcohol was flowing and free. We drank. We all drank. He drank more and had eaten nothing.

We finally decided to head home. I had my bike. I love my bike, it's loyal to me. This year has been a big year of changing. I got a kitten and have raised it. I have a bike that I ride religiously and I have a boyfriend. I obviously am into changing myself. I am open to learning. Moments will come and they will be part of life. Tonight is one of those nights.

I used to drive upstate all the time. I am king of the speeding tickets! I even had to attend a defensive driving class! I am notorious upstate! The Construction Worker was drinking, much more than I expected. My bike was in the back of his car. "We need to take a car service home. I can't drive." I was happy he made this decision on his own, but my bike! I needed my bike for tomorrow morning. As I stay up past two AM, I wonder if will be riding tomorrow. I shall though, it's the only constant I know I can control these days.

I told him. "I can drive." I was saying it! I've always had this immobilizing fear of driving in the city.

Now you may be wondering, was he drunk? No. I was in the conscious mind. I was alert and knew that my bike was in the backseat. I needed it. The construction worker is imperfect. He is going through hard times too. He lacks the sense to judge what is too much drink, what is dumb in choosing drinking over eating. In the 40 years of his life he has kept these ideals true.

It pains me to see this. In my youth I have been through plenty. People who know me, know this much is true. I haven't experienced nearly enough in my years, but the things I have gone through are beyond experience. I have taken a year of therapy to comfort myself into this feeling. I have attended support groups. I am a whole being and even in my youth I just am bothered by this.

Here I am. A 24-year-old. Who fears driving in the city. Has NEVER driven in the city. Is volunteering to drive his drunk boyfriend home. In all honestly he couldn't drive and I knew I could. I am not a complete dependent. I can drive and I have seen him take the route home plenty of times. I felt like I held my breath the entire time. I was so tense, but I did it. I got to my apartment. Listening to Lady Gaga on the radio. I have driven my mother's SUV plenty of times, but his car is larger and more broken down. The side mirrors are falling off and the rear view mirror is atrocious. I did it though. Kudos for me. Sadness to the Construction Worker.

I am faced with his weakness. The bottle. In all my drugs, all my addictions. I can understand why a lost soul like myself would go astray. Here is a man who has done it all. Built and sold businesses, lived on a boat, promoted the best clubs in NYC, and all these other successes. To see him in a state is what makes a partner feel human. There is his weakness, his battle, his truth.

I know what ails him. The thing which I could easily make discussion about and yet I slightly avoid it. I am trying to understand it. I know he is not an alcoholic, he has even defended it at times. I know how he feels. I do feel I should speak though, there is my worries. I worry. I will mention it tomorrow.

You drove his car home for him. That's not something that has happened everyday. This is the third event you were waiting for. It shakes you because you had to do it, yet the act itself was a simple event. You care for him and that's what any lover would do in the case. Your personal fears do not reflect the actual setting in place. This man has lived his entire life in the city, but he let you drive home. Oh the dilemma!

Keep Rolling On

The robbery was a lot to deal with. Filing a police report complete with many different phone calls and being put on hold. It seems that filing a police report is the key to everything. They are sending me a replacement iPod. In my mind iPod's take $4 to actually put together. $179.00 to sell. So they'd sooner mail me another one, despite the fact it was stolen in the mail. So I am sending it to a friends place, that comes complete with a doorman who holds all packages. Success!

The boy who I thought would be my future roommate is having some financial problems. He has given fears of doubt and I understand that. Life is full of understanding moments. It's full of tests of meditation. So I must continue my search for a new roommate. One of life's greatest trials. Onward ho!

I have placed an ad in the paper and responses are coming in. It's overwhelming.

Butterflies Are Free

Everyday I apply to a job, or I try to. I'm trying to ride my bike more often, but with the rain that has been difficult. I am doing the five boro bike tour in the beginning of May. It's going to be an exciting day. I will be doing it with my brother. We don't normally talk, I'm not very close to my siblings.

I know that my brother is 28-years-old and just bought his first house. It's in upstate New York, close to the rest of my family. Bike riding doesn't require a lot of conversation, which will make the day move along nicely.

I'm watching Butterflies are Free. With Goldie Hawn in the role that Blythe Danner made famous. Goldie's hair is so big! She's a delight, especially to see her really acting. She's so cute and sincere.

My Funny Bone. . .

My friend is currently living the life of a Noel Coward farce. It's being written as I sit and watch. He pointed out that in my main group of friends, we all possess different traits of farcical characters. It doesn't surprise me, we're all theatrical people. We possess those traits that make people question the stereotypes. I'm a fag, but I'm a fag with style.

A not so close friend called me cause he is having an HIV scare. I canceled the play I need to see for class so I can comfort this boy. Who I really don't know that well. I just can't deny him comfort when he's having that kind of scare. I may be a fag, but I'm a fag with humanity.

Tomorrow, my mother and Oma are visiting me. This is historical, I've been here five years and my Jehovah's Witness grandmother hasn't come down once. It'll be three generations of Tennessee William's character sitting around and ignoring reality! My Oma asked my mother if I was gay. My dad thinks she is coming down to confront me. Interesting, no?

Then there's my mother. The matriarch herself. She who rules with a silent but emotional claw. I love her, but fear her awesome strength. She who taught me that it's the little things that can worry you so. Never shall I sleep soundly again.

Then there is moi and we already know so much about me. I shall sit there and order something with a kick to it! I'll flash a smile and wait for her to accuse me of being a sissy! I'll remain civil no matter what happens.

Oh, these days! These days! I am well, for there's nothing to worry about. That's the hitch in this design. I get a free dinner tomorrow.

A Mind Cleanse

I am sick. I have a stuffy nose and I am coughing as if I have TB. These slow days, it's Saturday, yet I am stuck indoors. Oh, to be so poor! I have been using a Nettie Pot, but all I ever get is salt snot down the back of my throat.

Oh, forgive me, I just had a coughing fit. It's so hard to focus, ever since this cold arrived. Last night I slept, but not soundly. I kept dreaming that I was starting a rock band. I would wake up to pee or in a cold sweat. I would return to sleep, intent on forming the band.

College begins the final semester. A five year journey, coming to a close. Has it been five years? Am I still in college? I think back to Pratt, being 19, believing the world didn't have anything on me. I'm sinking into thoughts, I must change the topic or I'll be here all night.

Equus is a play I hold dear to my heart. I have been waiting to see it for about 2 years. There were parts that made me shiver. Daniel Radcliffe is a fine actor and has a cute body. More coughing, my throat feels raw.

I am finishing In Cold Blood by Truman Capote. It's one of those novels that you read and fully understand why it's famous. Is it necessarily shocking to the present date? Not quiet, but that's how unimpressed we've become.

Harring is due back from Meh-He-Co tomorrow. We shall see what happens. I need him to return before I can officially consider anything. Right now, I seem to be dying. So I consider that a touch more important. Having been reminded of what it feels like to be touched by another man, it just stirred my soul up. I have to forget that feeling all over again otherwise.

One More Semester

Who managed to get all As this semester and securing a 3.9 GPA? I did. Yet, don't cheer for me, it was nothing. I'm just going through the motions until I graduate, which shall be happening in June of 2009. I've secured all my classes, now I need to file for graduation and it shall almost be done.

Oh. My. It's almost done. Excuse me while I reflect for a moment. . .

I saw Hedda Gabler the other night. Starring my favorite lady: Mary Louise Parker. She was solid, but the production was not a memorable one.

On Sunday, it's coming three-fold as I will be seeing Patti LuPone's final Gypsy performance. I have never seen a show live as many times as I have seen Patti LuPone in Gypsy. I suppose she will be that memory, like so many other gay men since 1980, who have the one show they remember Patti in. Evita, Les Miserable, Anything Goes, Sweeney Todd. The list goes on and on. I love her in Gypsy! Hearing her sing three of best power house numbers in musical history. Playing the role she was born to play. People may say she's hammy and awful, but I will always respect her!

Harring travels. He goes on trips all the time. I met him right as he arrived in from France and yesterday he flew off to Mexico for two weeks. Interesting twist, barely home and he leaves again. It gives me time to balance out and enjoy myself. I have been, spending time with good friends and keeping it local [in Brooklyn yo!]. Doing a little work in the warehouse, the possibilities it may lead to, but I dare not speak of it now.

I have recently fallen in love with Jacque Brel and his Belgian gurgle. He's not exactly like Edith Piaf, but. . .

If that mug looked at you and started singing in a different language. You would swoon a little, I am sure.

Two-a-Day

Saw Speed-The-Plow last night and for the first time in a while. I will say. Bravo, Raul Esparza, bravo. The whole show was terrific though. I've never experienced Mamet before and his writing is like music. The first act was like a duet, so quick and rapid that I loved getting lost in the beat of the music they were creating.

Tonight I'm seeing Dividing the Estate by Horton Foote. I'm seeing it to witness Elizabeth Ashley at least once in my life. I believe that anyone who has played Maggie the Cat will live forever. Elizabeth Ashley's immortal, isn't she?

Elizabeth gave me a little purple hat to wear. I need to buy a winter hat. My head is freezing, but I haven't had a chance to buy one. I won't just buy any old hat, so I need the time to look. Does anyone still wear a hat?

San Francisco in a week. I am eager to leave, but I feel so odd. I'm abandoning school so easily. I have things due back when I return, but I hopefully will work on them before or during the trip. I say that very sarcastically, but I'm sure I'll have some down time. We do have some plans so far. Going out to Alcatraz. I do love a trip by boat to an island along with a tape recorded audio tour! Oh, that will be very grand. Also we plan on doing this. Big hats and variety acts!

By chance of fate I started reading The Beautiful Room Is Empty by Edmund White on the train ride home this evening. I think it's in my future to write a coming-of-age gay novel. I read these books and find the same thought processes that the narrators have. Am I a literary character? Are my thoughts original at all? How did I have them before I read these books? With the end of my life be just two words: The End?

If it's destiny, than who am I to interfere?

Lastly, I leave you with:

Biting My Lip

I feel tears.

I've spent months feeling empty and unmotivated. Recently I've felt passionate and like for once I know the direction I want to go. Then when I try to go on way I hit a wall before I even get going. I turn around and realized there's walls on all sides of me.

I must join a friend for dinner. I am a defeatist, but something in my body says I can't give up and I suppose that's a good sign. Perhaps I'm like Don Quioxte and just living the Impossible Dream. Why not?

Except more on this later.

Tired, but Restless

I am going to try for bed now. This will be short. I wish to get to the gym tomorrow.

I am restless as usual. School is rushing my life and the play will be done soon! I feel like I'm always falling behind. I've realized it's an issue I've been feeling since I was a kid. Sadly depressing. I always felt like I've been behind.

Held back in Kindergarten because of my emotional stunted behaviors. I was emotionally disturbed. Isn't that humorous to realize. Since I've been six I've always felt behind.

I feel so comfortable with the debauch world. Drag Queens and Poly-Amorous Pride Days. They've been filling my life and that feels normal.

I've been sleeping with The Escort. I'm not in love, I can't feel love. I'm just very interested in his life. He's been doing it since he was 18. How interesting. He tells me these tricks of the trade.

Then I stop and think about how possibly he could just be working me. I'm not paying him, and I'm having sex. So I suppose I'm not losing out. He likes that everyone loves him, that's why he escorts. He has like four older men who he sees weekly and they give me at least $250 a visit.

He makes $1,000 a week by just having sex with men. The pros are in my favor. What could you possibly say to change my mind? That I'm a lily that has only been touched by the morning dew?

About 20 minutes into his little stories it clicked. It was when he was telling me about what he does when he meets a John. He always goes to the bathroom to regroup and wash his butt.

It snapped, like a gear going into place. I was Community Service Escorting. I suddenly knew his game because I played it. Except I never got paid for it. Major bummer, right? So I ask you. What could you tell me that would weigh the cons against the pros? I have a pretty solid list of pros so far.

School, school, school

It's begun, for the next 8 weeks I will be a hapless and unpaid slave to my college. Dog Sees God isn't a bad play, it's cynical and dark. It's basically the Peanuts gang in high school and how fucked up they've become. Lucy is a pyro, Linus is a pothead, Pigpen is a germaphobe. It's interesting.

I have been getting into Oz, the HBO show. I'm in season one (two episodes away from done) and it's so amazing. I love the drama, the sex, the drugs. Oh it's so exciting. Beecher just did PCP and threw a chair and hurt Schillinger's eye! I can't wait for Chris Keller to get on the scene. Oh then I'm gonna really love this show. Hubba, hubba!

I took today to catch up on my homework. I feel behind, still am hardly ahead. I am trying to take this final year of college gracefully. Things to remember and I'm constantly forgetting. I did find my glasses and I suppose that's a good thing. I couldn't run at the gym today. Odd because I love to run. Yet, my mind was being gnawed by little worries. Small mundane things:

Will I ever get the toothbrush out of the toilet?

Mary Jane Gabler

I know I'm late on reporting this, but I found out last night. I chose to sleep instead of frantically post. However, let it be known that the moment before I found out I had just finished watching Season one of Weeds on DVD.

Mary Louise Parker, my favorite bitchy stage door encounter. Who will be forever linked to my memories in two different ways. Is returning to Broadway to take Hedda Gabler on. Now as exciting as this sounds, I'm wary. Hedda is not a Mary Louise Persona. So let's see her bring on the acting skills!

Mary Louise is known for her lack of emotion, added with her distinct vocal qualities. Her dead pan delivery is brilliant. Hedda is a tight lipped character who rarely shows emotion, I'm truly curious to see how this will all end up. Christopher Shinn is writing the adaptation so he'll work with her. Roundabout still can fuck is up, as they often do. I can just picture this sitting room drama with a turntable.

I'll be right there cheering you on Mary Louise Parker! Even if you were bitchy to me when all I wanted was an autograph. I share the same birthday with Billy, I understand.

A role I was meant to play.

Despite the fact I am creating an award database from scratch and my brain is fried. When I find gems like this I love life. It's a long lost Shaw classic, didn't you know?

Macbeth Told With Bombs?

I'm not sure what to make of this show, but I'm seeing it tonight at St. Ann's Warehouse in DUMBO, Brooklyn. Macbeth told with explosions and hangings and throat's being slit! How thrilling!

The backdrop is the Manhattan Skyline, the set is outdoors and you have to wear a hearing device in order to hear the (It's in Polish) dialogue! Allegories to the Iraq War are played out in this production and sure it may not have (Tony loser) Patrick Stewart. I am just really interested to find out what tonight will bring.

It Made Me Go Boeing!

Boeing Boeing will probably win best Revival tomorrow. It's a terrifically funny and cute show. Every actor in that show is very solid. Mary McCormack most certainly proves that she is a genius in comedic timing! I loved everyone in the show and thought it was genuinely very funny.

The VIP moment goes to Mary Rylan who plays Gloria, the American Flight Attendant, in her incredible campy but Tour De Force role in Act II.

In Memorial

Patti LuPone deserves the Tony. End of story. A friend sent me Rose's Turn sung by La LuPone and I'm determined that Kelli O'Hara can't wash enough men out of her hair to win this award over the Goddess that is LuPone! Sure it's a little insane, but she took Madame Rose to her final breakdown. Whatever, if you hate her. That's your prerogative

Yes Ms. Merman, it's not just singing on the down beat that makes Rose's Turn work.

In real news. I have been reading Paula Vogel. And Baby Makes Seven is a production my theater company will do.

Oh, yes I've forgotten to mention that some friends and I will be creating an all gay theater company! Our tentative title is: The Sausage Factory. We will be gay men creating theater. Women will be allowed, but their title will be as HAGS.

Meaning they can participate, but have no artistic say in the process. We're not doing this as a statement, we're doing is cause we're gay! Okay, so the official statement is in the works, but we're hoping that will be included.

Wow, this entry has gone to a different place than I intended, see what Patti does to me. I've started reading Sarah Kane. This shall be a summer of plays I am sure. Along those lines, William Inge is brilliant. A true friend of Tennessee Williams at best! Come Back Little Sheba was sadly missed near the end of February. If you know the circumstances you'll understand why. Yet, when I read the play I missed it much more, because it was brilliance at best. I need to buy the movie, I need Shirley Booth in my life.

In short, I cherish my friends. Feeling loved is nice. Feeling enjoyed is better. Feeling needed is terrific. There is a moment upon leaving them that the loneliness returns quickly. I take a few deep breathes and go back to it all.

I tried for happiness, but I did return to depression.

Internship starts tomorrow. Oh life did shift, how?

It's all in the Eccentricites

Today I finally saw The Eccentricities of a Nightingale by my boy 10. In one year I have seen both the tattoos on my calf, something I didn't think would happen for sometime.

Seeing the two ladies actually performed out loud has just cemented why I felt so drawn to them. Hannah Jelkes is the self control and Alma Winemiller is my wild card. Those two ladies are me it's remarkable. Did I mold my life after the plays or has my life been molded in the same situations.

It really reflected the way I acted this afternoon when I was having sex. I portrayed Alma to a T. Yes, I still have sex even in my dire state.

In Between Shows...

In between shows. Very much like a Beckett play I am sure. Life continues, but nothing really progresses. The first act is like the second, but with minor variations.

I skipped the gym this morning, yes I did. I'm not ashamed of it. Last night at my friend's I was surprised by a visitor that had arrived before me. I just wanted to play the Wii. He was a kid who had talked to me online and through manhunt.net for a while. I am glad I met him in neutral surroundings.

If it's not enough that I have proclaimed myself a purely asexual being for the time being. This boy was gayer than I. He liked to throw out theater quotes for me to pick up, what he didn't realize though was I was throwing them out left and right. I've just learned to make them sound more natural.

Here's where I get vain:

Ladies and gentlemen. I go to the gym. I am very aware of the good and bad of my body. I know I have nice pecs and a cute face and that I'm muscular and sometimes carry a vague, but sunny disposition on my face.

This boy who has spent months trying to hang out, was well, to put it in a layman term...fat. Now, I know that is awful for me to say. Yet I go to the gym daily, I run miles and miles. I have built up standards that I'd hope, unless I am drunk or high on lethal drugs, that I follow no matter how lonely I feel.

Not saying I would never find a fat person attractive. I am sure I would, it's just not what attracts me to people for purely sexual encounters. Oh this is making me sound awful. But not that I expected this kid to get the clue that I am not into him (which perhaps he did...then again after months of not being into him before we met. I leave it open for surprises) he seems to think that he can win me over. Perhaps it's because that gay men are just that. Men. Sex is sex. It doesn't matter if the people are attracted to each other.

I have been lucky enough (because I am pert and 22 and have that disposition) to never been rejected by anyone from my many encounters with men. At least on one-on-one encounters. I have sometimes felt it happen in group sex situations. Yet, that's a completely difficult party I wish not to address right now. I'm not the sexiest man alive. I just wish that people wouldn't look at me as that sexual object I hate and think with some cunning lines and fancy tricks I will get naked for them. Okay, I'm narcissistic. I'd sooner drown myself in my own reflection that sleep with someone I'm not attracted to just to get off.

Just like a Beckett play. This time has passed and yet nothing has changed. Only some smaller issues are different.

Beginning of the rest of my week

How wonderful of my school to start rehearsals for Two Gentlemen of Verona before spring break is complete. So instead of having a weekend I get tech rehearsals. It's two days of annoyance and me being stoned. That's all I've been able to figure out. No amount of pot can cancel this one out. Okay, Alice take your stance and entertain me.

I have to go in about and hour or so, which isn't thrilling me. I am not going to stay for the whole dry run. I don't give a shit about this one folks. I'll be watching the show for day after day and I like when things are new to me. Plus, I like the musical better.

I swear, Liza Minnelli has done three final verses of City Lights from The Act. She keeps stopping and adding another chorus. Yet, this is why she won the Tony in 1971 isn't it?

In other news. I spent the last 48 hours being the laziest person in the entire world. I enjoyed it. I could only bring myself to playing FFXII for hour at a time. Perhaps I'll play it tonight while I skip the dry run. We shall cross that bridge when we get to it?

Honestly, what is Liza singing now? She's just wailing about needing him. Which is funny because if I could swear, there are no other characters but Liza in The Act. Oh and her backup dancers.

My friend called me out today telling me I write my blog, the same way Tennessee Williams wrote his Memoirs. Well isn't that the nicest compliment in the world. What's funny is I must've just unintentionally done it, because, well, I wasn't aware. Let's face it, I practically infused the man's soul to mine. Of course we'll have some things in common.

Iguana At Home — A 3-Part Mini Opera

Theatre, theatre everywhere and not a chance to justify complaining...If everything goes according to plan, by the end of September I will have seen:

Hair 40th Anniversary Concert in the Park
The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee
King Lear at BAM
The Misanthrope

I finished watching the Swedish version of Chess, which is amazing though slight absurd.

Why treat me like a fool?

It was a production of epic proportions. The three leads were good in their own way, and though I didn't understand a word of it, I loved it all the same. All the songs are amazing and though the staging may be a little kooky and the chorus a little awkward in certain scenes. In short, to see a staged version of it finally was totally worth it.

Will he miss me, if I go?

So, the fall setting in Park Slope is beautiful. It's almost more picturesque than the falls back home, and we had some good falls. It's too perfect though. I have walked down the street feeling like Kathy Whitaker - A Woman on the Verge.

I could be in someone else's story! In someone else's life...

How does this sound for being a touch insane...So I got a special recording of A Little Night Music (The BBC Concert starring Betty Buckley and Maria Friedman (a role I actually enjoy her in)) So upon listening to it, the recording is a touch dodgy, but truly amazing to hear the whole show starring one of my favorite Divas. The only noticeable problem is it doesn't have A Weekend in the Country. One of the greatest Sondheim opening Act II numbers ever.

Act II just starts with Maria Friedman saying in her ever singsong voice [insert sarcastic look here], "Plague." WHAT?! But it sounds like such a funny joke! I need to know someday! What is she saying Plague to?

So my solution [insert crazy reference here] is to record the Weekend in the Country number from the Lincoln Center Revival in 1990. I do this because it's the only version I know of on the Internet that contains all the intermittent dialogue during the song...

No man, no madness...

Lastly tonight, I leave with my latest anecdote [I wrote this to a friend in an email]:

Funny story, the other day a guy was selling books on the street. This was during my bad day (losing insurance and all that) and you know it's book sold from a table on the STREET. You would think that it be like 2-5 dollars a book. I found a Hirschfeld book that I've seen many times at Strand for like 9-10 bucks. I go, "How much is this." and the old gay bitch says...

"Asking price is 18 dollars...but I can negotiate. It originally went for 30 dollars." I looked at him with my one eyebrow askew and said, "I only have a couple of dollars." He shrugs and I go to put it back and the BITCH grabs it from my hands and says, "LET ME DO IT!" I let it go a second to late cause I wanted it to fall to the ground, but he caught it.

Only in Park Slope would someone sell books in the STREET on a table for consumer report prices.