…I’m getting too old for well liquor. It hurts.
Seriously? I was just eating some chips and, for some reason probably hangover-related, couldn’t stop gleaking on my computer. Nasty. I know. I’m just trying to be honest here. Anyway, so I’m gleaking on the computer and it actually reminded me that I need to watch last night’s Glee.
I’m reading this book now- Secret Historian- about this guy, Samuel Steward, who was a novelist and tattoo artist and famous writer of gay erotic fiction. All that aside though, his greatest contribution appears to be his life as a sexual being. He had sex with tons of dudes and rigorously kept a file of his conquests. He came of age during the early part of the 20th Century, so his papers are an important insight into what life was like for homosexuals then (as most people were afraid of ridicule or prosecution).
It’s got me thinking a lot about the transgressive. What is it? Is it a judgement? You could say it’s acting outside of social norms and mores, but you’d get an argument from a lot of people about what those are exactly. Not exactly groundbreaking, but I guess it’s made me think of a little paradox: To embrace the transgressive is to judge your own life.
I love when I’m meeting someone in the city, there’s time to waste, and I find myself hopping into a place to kill said wasteable time.
I’m currently in a “jazz comedy club” in Crown Heights. I’m not sure if that means they present both jazz AND comedy or if it’s a new form of comedy. A jazzy comedy. I’m the only person here. Not sure if Lydia owes me one for being late or if I owe her. There’s still time. THE POSSIBILITIES.
I’ll never understand the politics of subway space negotiating. Sir, are you forcing me to pet your legs because you are oblivious? Is it because you’re defiant and just refuse to let me and my bag insinuate our beings into your reality (and, if that’s it, you should maybe move to West Virginia or some place where there are a lot of open spaces, because New York is going to eventually make you insane. Or maybe you just don’t like corduroy)? Or, are you interested in me sexually and want me to rub up on you? I’m not the type to go around thinking that everyone wants to sleep with me all of the time, but… I’ve had an exceptionally hot summer and things are tight and, what can I say? It can’t be ruled out.
I don’t find it attractive to force people to touch me. But, to each his own. Enjoy your morning frottage, sir (that’s the word, right?). And, yes that is my natural scent.
There’s something so exciting about hanging out with work friends. That said, I’m so hungover right now, I almost wrote “church friends.”
When you hang out with people from work, it’s like the converse of what happens when you develop theatre relationships. In theatre, you meet people and socialize with them and it culminates in the revelation of your new friend’s talent, or lack thereof (rarely though- I’m really good at making talented friends).
At survival jobs, you’re wearing a mask until you hang out. Took off my mask last night and can’t remember where I put it.
We’ve been talking about our fascination with Detroit for something like 7 or 8 years now and it looks like we’re finally writing a play set there. I’m suddenly afraid of all of these Detroit natives rising up and demanding our heads after pointing out tons of local inaccuracies. We’ll hopefully be able to spend some time there over the next 6 months, but I’m still nervous about that. That said, New York is the center of a lot of American theatre which leads to far too many plays being written about New York. Frankly, it’s my instinct to write about New York too, but I’m trying to stretch here. Hopefully, Motown will be generous.
Today, Andi and I are meeting to start work on some new theatre projects. As our luck would have it, we’ve pushed back the time because I had to have my lost/stolen ATM card replaced and she has a bug bite that needs to be checked out. Auspicious and Aususpicious.
Also, Mel Gibson was last relevant in Signs. And, a girl I work with was talking about Joaquin Phoenix and seriously pronounced his name JaKwon. I haven’t laughed that hard in a while and I will never, even if I were somehow conducting a red carpet interview with him for Nate Berkus’s show (I’m assuming it wouldn’t happen this season and, with Oprah off the air, there will be a space to fill for that sort of thing), I will never say his name any other way.
I’m seriously not trying to sound like a sap, but I have to talk a little about friends right now.
So, this has been an interesting summer- lots of changes, both uncomfortable and exhilarating. I was terrified when they all began, but, now that it’s all reaching some sort of stasis, I’m feeling incredibly grateful. I’ve felt that gratefulness for a while now and I didn’t know where to direct it. Myself? The universe? I don’t think so.
I think my greatest accomplishment as a grown-up has been making wonderful friends. I’ve always known how to find the people who are just wonderful. When I make it something other than friendship I’m looking for, things get a little effed up, but I make such lovely friends. I’ve made some new ones this summer and some old ones have shown such freaking amazing gestures of love and support- I don’t even know how to respond.
So, instead of responding when I don’t know how (which is not to say that I won’t respond in the ways that I know I should- because I will), I’m just going to bask a little in the life-affirming glow of these people who have kept me afloat. You know who you are. This would have never been possible without you. I WILL pay you back.