Update-tion

Quentin Crisp

I have been breaking balls this week. The week before and probably the weeks to follow. I've been making lists for moving and following them to the best of my abilities. I've found movers, found a wireless router. Actually called and sat through Time Warner's sales reps. While she and I started off as enemies, we ended as best friends.

ME: I don't know what a promotion is! I just want Internet at my apartment!
SALES REP: You called this number because you wanted a promotion. So I need to know what promotion that is?
ME: PROMOTION WHAT?! You can't promote when you don't have anything to go off of. I don't have any Internet at my apartment, therefore how could I promote onto something better?!

By the end Nancy (I think that was her name) and I were were singing I Will Never Leave You from Side Show. Yet, I did end up hanging up the phone. She's a gem, that Time Warner Sales Rep.

Get free boxes for moving! Possibly. It could also be Go to Staples for boxes. Depending on how the Grocery Store pans out. I'm not about to hunt down misshapen boxes so I can save a buck. I just want to have them there for packing.

On Sunday by noon I'd say. I should be in my apartment. Okay, I'll give myself until 2 pm. The only difficult part is that I know for a minimum, I won't have Internet connection until the 29th. Perhaps longer if the fates are cruel. It'll be a whole new world.

I shall also be venturing home soon. The weekend of August 9th. How grand that shall be, I actually wish to escape back home (unless it means I miss doing 'shrooms, which it won't). I'll have several days to sit and think of the oncoming year and how I will trudge march through it.

I will also start to plant the seed of an idea. Moving away from the City. From the place I'll have spent the last five years growing accustomed to. Question: Why? Answer: Not? I would probably want to return, most definitely, well eventually. Also, I haven't got a green thumb so it may just die before the seed can germinate.

And now some Production photos from Charles Mee plays:

<3>

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.

Funny how this world works

Oh great pain in my stomach and back and neck. Oh but nothing has been comparing to the pain in the back of my skull. I wonder sometimes if that's what death will feel like? I walk down the street and stagger, for if I move my head to quickly. The feeling of weighted lead shifts in the back and I am off-balance for a moment.

Life has become a blur of sorts. I find it harder to want to stay focused, I like crossing my eyes and then seeing what turns out in my obscurity. Maybe I'll get an internship, maybe I won't. If so either out come with change the threads of time that await me.

I finished And The Band Played On. I found it amazing, a piece of history many people don't know and will never know. It took until the very end, when Reagan actually started "helping" the situation. That so many gay men could die for four years and just because Rock Hudson gets it, that's why it's the way it is today? How is that possible? Or the closing of the bathhouses, once again the way this whole situation was handled was surreal.

It chills me when I figured out I was 21 days old when AIDS officially became a national issue of importance. Also, upon reading the final page I was left feeling terrified because it didn't continue up to now. Where have all the leaders in the fight gone? When we left them they were dying of AIDS! The last chapter sums is all up when Schlitz just blatantly asks, "Where is the leadership?" That was in 1988.

Next book is: Alice in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass. It's one book. I know my grammar, okay.

I saw two experimental shows, and with the recent pain in my head, thought I would die. I didn't need to think so much. God's Ear was annoying to me. I loved the writing at times, but casting pick a lead woman without an obnoxious voice and who preferably knows how to act. I hated that woman. In scenes she wasn't in, I was happy and content. Unfortunately she was in most scenes. Especially the mistress, she hit the nail on the author's proverbial head. Then that damned wife would return.

Charles Mee's Fire Island was terrific. With the pain though I was pulled to my maximum for retaining information. I got free burgers and wine. I got to see this cute little freaky clown man court this awkward girl. I got to see affairs on this magical land of Fire Island come together and fall apart. So much was going on, that I felt myself alienating my mind from sensory overload. I loved it.

Why do Kashi TLC crackers taste so fucking good?

Kiki and Herb through the years

Last night I saw Paradise Park. Charles Mee's last play at Signature Theater. This was my least favorite but it had some stellar monologues. It was a little to steeped in symbolism. I really love Charles Mee. What I enjoy is the underlying message of all his bizarre plays is: Love. It's very sweet and romantic in a way. Then the rest of the plays are utterly insane.

I got Skidoo from my friend last night. It's not in stores and he had an old VHS (these are my friends). It's so trippy. Carol Channing's outfits are absolutely insane. I wonder if she provided them.

I also got Kiki & Herb's new DVD. Which was at the Knitting Factory, I was there. It's great to have a DVD that I was part of! What I love about the DVD though is it has older clips of Kiki and Herb through their decade of fame. Including a clip of 1993 where Kiki was merely long hair and a Heineken. The next clip is 1999 and it's absolutely amazing. Kiki is discussing world issues about Columbine, which she calls Concubine. It's horrible, but funny.

Staying in the Hotel

Hotel Cassiopeia is a great example of stimulating theater. Beautiful imagery, wonderful acting and a stimulating topic.

Written by Charles Mee and directed by Anne Bogart. Mee is turning into a favorite Playwright. I can't wait to see his new play, Queens Blvd - The Musical! Of course if you want to you can read any of his plays, online, for free. BRILLIANT MEE!!!

And people say going to the theatre stoned isn't fun?

In other news, I woke up this morning and had a small panic attack. I was getting ready for the gym, thus starting my day. My mood is always reflected by my gym trip. Good trip, good mood. Strange trip, weird mood. I woke as I normally do and got ready in the same amount of time. And I went, when I started on my 4 mile/30 minute jog I realized I had less time than I planned.

This sent me into a tizzy.

I had to rearrange my day because I didn't like how it was going. I didn't like that I was running late, even though I had plenty of time for everything. I called the Costume Shop and canceled my working hours because I just could go in before my hair dried.

I studied for my Music test for a moment. Then slept from 10 to 11 am. In my clothes. I got out of bed and went to school and took my test. I went to the library to look for a book. I printed 3-4 dollars of papers...

I got my ticket to the show. I wondered if I was falling apart...

lateness isn't me.

Then I realized I set my alarm at the wrong time, tomorrow I wake up at 7:30, not Tuesdays. It's 7 am on Tuesdays...

See what 30 mins can do to one's day?