Bipolar Nose

My nose is suffering from a little manic depression.
One minute it's running, the next minute it's stopped up.
The Zoloft for this situation is a hot shower.

I Came Down Like Water

I enjoy make up a little too much. Especially my eye make up, Asphyxia, from Urban Decay. (www.urbandecay.com ) It's this fucked up purple. And yesterday our break from Rocky was over and it was time to whip out the make up and get pretty (or creepy depending on your point of view).
Thursday's show really made me wish there was a Wednesday pick up. It took me a little while to find the rhythm of the show - not my best. There were a lot of little nuances I missed. Of course, every show to me has to be compared to last Saturday's show, if we can hit that level again or go beyond it - I'll be happy. I did spit polish some old man's shoes last night, that was fun. It was a choice, anyway.
Tonight is our first double bill - 8 pm and 11 pm - and I'm ready for that, I had more energy after yesterday's show that when we started. I don't think that's going to be a problem for me. Wind me up, watch me go. Pinball. Bing, bing, bing. Plus, being sweaty and exhausted will give us phantoms what I think of as the 'toy train that's been running too long' vibe, burning gears, you know.
Steve let me borrow his copy of The Velvet Goldmine soundtrack -- love it, this is going to be my 'getting ready' music tonight. Which may just mean playing 'The Ballad Of Maxwell Demon' over and over.
And, Gentle Reader, you'll be pleased to find out that the stupid, pointless grope sessions that the director had all the phantoms do last week have been cancelled. Damn, now I don't get to have MY diva moment!! I went in there yesterday ready to call the whole operation bullshit (I mean, the director was joining in on these things! Come on, justify that!). I don't know who handled it, like four people claimed to be the one that put a stop to it, but my thanks goes out to them.

All Hallow's Quiz

1) What are you going to be this Halloween?
Probably a sweaty phantom.
2) What's the best costume you ever wore?
I was Wesley from The Princess Bride one year (people thought I was Zorro)
3) What's the worst costume you ever wore?
An army guy.
4) What's something you would like to dress up as but haven't?
Don't know -- maybe a Jedi or Batman or The Joker or Darth Maul or an Orc
5) What's your favorite Halloween candy?
Bubblegum.
6) How will you spend this Halloween?
Doing The Rocky Horror Show, then going over to my friend David's Halloween Party.
7) What's the most fun you've had on Halloween?
Last year at Amber and Gina and Geoff's Halloween Party. That was a good time.
8) Do you have any other Halloween traditions?
My sister and I never really Trick or Treated, we just went to the Garden City Elementary School Carnival. That
was our Halloween.
9) Have you ever seen "It's The Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown"?
Wonderful for nostalgia, it has a place in my heart. I love when Charlie Brown keeps getting rocks from people.
10) What's the scariest movie you've ever seen?
The Exorcist, hands down. There was this movie I rented called Session 9 that was really fucking scary.
Then maybe something creepy like The Ring.

Hey Bandwagon, Slow Down!

I'm addicted to TV. Actually, that's not quite true, I'm addicted to The BrightHouse version of TIVO. And through this lovely little invention I've discovered a new show: Dead Like Me. The last three nights in a row -- when I should be going to bed -- instead, I push play on the latest episode that's waiting for me. The show's about a group of grim reapers -- except being a grim reaper isn't this creepy, scary thing -- it's more like being middle management -- and these grim reapers use to be regular Joes, living, going about their business -- being a grim reaper is kind of their purgatory. That being said, the show is funny as hell. It' just goes to show you that no matter how cool or interesting a job might seem, to the people who do it day in and day out -- it's just a job. And I don't usually feel this way about actresses on TV (or movies) but the actress that plays Daisy (Laura Harris) is one of the most beautiful women I've ever seen. I remember that she was the crazy, militant sister on the second season of 24. Very blonde, like Hitchcock blonde, which isn't usually my cup of tea.

I'll also eventually have to post my thoughts on my other, new TV obsessions: LOST and Desperate Housewives.

Had a fun evening hanging out with Steve at Pine Street. Steve gives off what I refer to as The Effortless Cool. Now, I don't know if on the inside he's a total fucking mess of self doubt, shame, and second guessing (like my outer and inner selves) but on the outside he's one of the coolest people I've met down here. Although, I'll admit it was like Bizarro world to have Michael Andrew come up and shake my hand and say he gonna try and make it out to the Halloween show and I'm being calm on the outside (in my own way just mimicking Steve's cool nonchalant-of-course-Michael Andrew-is here) but inside I'm babbling 90 miles a minute -- I love Swingerhead-saw Nutty Professor-you rule-I have your fucking Christmas CD, for, well, for Christ's sake -- and Bizarro again to have Christian Kelty (another Name, capitol N, right) sit down and hang out for a little bit with his girlfriend / friend / artist / (Amanda?) -- all of them very cool and nice -- one of the best, random Wednesdays I've had in a long time.

...... I know I shouldn't be making such a big deal out of that sort of thing, they're just people same as me but -- man -- I'm still very much that kid in high school who was just a ghost, a shadow, not even a geek really (that would at least have put me in the caste system somewhere). I was just invisible, I'm sure there are teachers and classmates that would say, "Josh Who?" I just always feel at the edge of the tribe and outside the circles. And that sort of mentality makes me ascribe bold print, capital letter status to people, I suppose

By next week I'll be doing a line of coke in the bathroom of The Parliment House with Wanzie.

But all that aside, I love that I have person to talk movies with. There were moments last night when we were talking about Batman Begins or Memento where I felt like, 'this is like those conversations I use to have with Tim at Borders'. I had forgotten how much I miss that. And, let's face it, it's cool to have a little straight male bonding time, I'm a bit starved for that. Thank you Rocky Horror.

And speaking of Rocky, our reviews are up, check them out:

www.orlandosentinal.com Look under Arts & Entertainment
www.orlandoweekly.com

Quiz Whore

1) What is your favorite cd currently?
I can't narrow this down, I'm sorry.
The Hives - Tyrannosaurus Hives
Franz Ferdinand - self titled
Modest Mouse - Good News For People Who Like Bad News

2) Favorite sandwich?
Right now I'm going to say anything from TooJay's. I've got a bit of a craving.

3) Characteristic you despise?
Self-righteousness, hypocrites, snobbery

4) Favorite article of clothing?
My pinstripe blazer from Urban Outfitters. I'm such a wannabe hipster.

5) If you could go anywhere in the world on vacation, where would you go?
Japan. Australia. The U.K.

6) What did you want to be when you were little?
The first thing I wanted to be was an archeologist - this was half because of Indiana Jones and
half because I went through a hardcore dinosaur phase that lasted from the time I was 7 until
I was 12 or 13.

A Long Day's Journey Into Doc Holiday

So, my throat feels a little better -- but the sickness has moved into my chest. My chest feels heavy and my breath is short. But I can't seem to cough. I feel like I've got TB. My ears still feel a little drain-y too. All I know is that tomorrow at 8 pm I have a show and I need to be 100 percent by then. Weak. Drain-y. Drained. Tired. Aches and pains. Pins and needles. Fric and Frac, Spic and Span, Arm and Hammer....what was I saying? Oh, yeah, not at my best right now. I feel like four hardcore coughs would solve all my problems. Hack, Hack, Hack, HACK!!! Done is done and fun is fun.

So, I can't follow my own advice. Last night Kim called cause she wants to join the gym and go to yoga. Of course I fall over myself, sure, I'll drive, no problem.....I pick her up and we drive to the gym, she signs up for a membership, and then.....they don't supply members with yoga mats anymore. What? Why? Cause the health inspector said they couldn't. What? Wait, why? Cause they couldn't clean them properly. Huh, wait. You mean I've been using filthy mats this whole time? Yes, yes you have. We sell them for $23.00. Umm, no thanks, hey, Kim, let's go to Target and get them, I think they're cheaper there.
So, we go to Target and there's no way we can make it back in time for yoga -- but in a way, I'm fine with this cause the situation is strange enough that I'm getting a lot of humor out of it and Kim's laughing, so I'm happy.
Anyway, Target's cheapest yoga mats are $20.00 and I don't really have the money but I buy a yellow one. Kim buys a purple one. Then I drive her back to her place. And I finally got my Dane Cook cd back from her.
So even though we didn't get to do any yoga, I had a weird, fun time. And there's always next week, now that we both have mats. I'm a strange fucker.

Tonight, I'm meeting Steve up at The Pine Street Bar for a few drinks. That should make for a cool Wednesday evening. Maybe warm liquor down my throat will do me some good. Maybe if I keep repeating that, I'll start to believe it. Hot toddy. Whiskey sour. Ha, wouldn't it be funny if we were going to a place with a huge fireplace and had brandy in those snifter glasses.....Mister Green in the study with the Candlestick. Of course I wouldn't turn down a small, brown bottle of laundum right now. Or, at the very least a rag soaked in ether.

O, For A Muse OF Fire

It's effing freezing in the office this morning. Although it probably doesn't help that I'm a little sick, sore throat, chills, aches. And I have no medicine beyond my own evil will. Gotta heal up before Thursday's show. But, man, this is classic-Josh-getting-sick-symptoms. Especially the aches. Those are aways my barometer for a possible fever. I need to go down to the fourth floor and get some hot green tea. Dowse my throat with the Vicks Chloraseptic I brought to work. And pray to The Random that all of this goes away by Thursday. Cause, to be honest, I feel weak as a kitten right now. And my left knee feels hurt in an unrelated way. Moan, moan, moan, right. I think this is just my body's way of saying, "Thanks, asshole, for not sleeping all weekend. Ya, prick."

I want to go to yoga tonight. Wait, I'm going to yoga tonight, whether I feel better or not. I need to. I want to. I wish there was a realistic way to fit in yoga before the show on Thursday too but the class starts at 7:30 pm. So, is there any non creepy way of giving Elizabeth the yoga instructor a flyer for The Rocky Horror Show, like, hey, I'm in this and it'd be cool if you could see it (but why would it be cool? It's not like I know anything about her beyond that she's cute) And she probably has a boyfriend (or a girlfriend) cause that seems to be part of my new criteria -- only develop crushes on unavailable people. Behold, the power of Self Defeat.

Of course, it's not like I'm actually ready to date anyone anyway. Things are still too...I don't know the word I want. All I could do right now is cause mass confusion and awkwardness. Those things seems to be my X-men powers. I wish things were different. I wish things were.....I want to write, 'back to normal'. Or maybe I should wish to be better adjusted to how things are now, the new 'normal'.

I've been thinking a lot about last year -- mostly the horrible stretch, the nadir. Like everything else in my past, it feels as though that happened to a different person. There's a part of me that feels like I have no more in common with that weeping creature than I do with a bug in a jar. Maybe that's why I'm so stagnant, instead of learning from my past, growing from it -- I haze over it, uproot myself, forget.

But I was thinking today about that Art's Sake party (or was it Frank McClain's birthday? It was at his house, anyway) where I was left on that front porch for three, four hours, by myself. The whimper of whipped dogs, right. I was thinking about how bad that made me feel, how stupid and angry and sad -- and that was before the excrement hit the air conditioning. I don't know. That little memory was just preying on me this morning.

Once escape velocity reaches the speed of light, you are in a black hole.

I wish things were simpler. Or more confused. This middle ground is awful in its own way.

I don't like being on my own. It feels like the opposite of freedom.

Well, I hate to break up this nice downward spiral I've got going on but it looks like it's time for me to go to my Excel class

Now With More Crunk

Opening weekend came and went. I never thought that I would say this but...we rocked the fucking house. Both Friday and Saturday we were sold out. I am amazed by this cast. Everybody stepped up. The leads were spot on: John's Frank N Furter is a show unto himself, Sarah's Janet is perfect, Natalie owns the audience as Magenta, it's a pleasure watching a lot of these people work. Especially, Jeff's Narrator (Simon Lock). And the phantoms? We were like The Borg out there. Take no prisoners, hile gunslingers. I have rediscovered the fun of this show and for that I am so grateful. That sound you hear is the crack of a bat hitting a homerun. I don't know how we did it. But we did.

Our best show was Saturday night. I had so many friends there: Gina and Geoff, Kevin and Megan, Kevin and Marcie, David, Steve, Matt -- I'm so happy that we put on a good show for them. I was so nervous watching all of them during the preshow. Butterflies, fight or fly, crazy energy. I wanted to do good cause my 'peeps' were there, you know. When it's a bunch of strangers, I mean, you never have to see those people again.

It's official, Once In A While is my favorite part of the show. My inner diva loves it.

After the shows on both Friday and Saturday, I had some of the cast over to my place. It was cool and I'm glad everybody was able to make it. I don't think I slept a total of eight hours all weekend. 5:00 today can't come quickly enough. I'm looking forward to my three days off -- although I have to admit that I already kinda miss members of my cast: Jenn, Todd, Steve, Tammy -- so, I'm ready to jump back into the pool.

This weekend we have two shows on Friday and two shows on Saturday. Considering all the energy I had this past weekend, I'm ready for it. Amber and Brian are coming down this weekend. And maybe my friend from Borders Jenn Klein. And Missy. And maybe Heather and maybe Tim....I don't know. Just found out today Mom and Dad can't come. Sucks. They should be able to come down for 1940's Radio Hour though, so that's cool.

2 down, 11 more to go. More later if I get a chance. You know me and multi-blogs.

Covered With Scorpions

Here's how my morning started off: I've been stung by a wasp. The insectoid kind.
I was picking up the recycling from the Accounting Dept. I was trying to pick up this big banker's box when I felt something drop on my neck (from the ceiling, from an open window?). Suddenly there's this, oh, how should I put it....HORRIBLE PAIN on the back of my neck. I automatically slap at my neck but miss my target cause I feel this dry, quick, twiggy wiggling under my shirt (and on my skin) heading towards my shoulder when there's MORE HORRIBLE PAIN. I grab a handful of my shirtsleeve in my fist, calmly walk to the bathroom.....and then freak out. The pain wasn't half as bad as that feeling of....Infestation. Vermin crawling on me. There's a phobia for that, I'm sure. It's like if someone starts talking about lice....your head does that "maybe I have them" itch. So, I lose it in the bathroom, strip my shirt off......crush crush crush....I'm this close to stomping when......plop.....out falls the world's smallest wasp. That skinny body and fat, poisonous abdomen with the stinger. This particular wasp was a virulent red and yellow (kill a fellow).

This whole episode reminds me of this time my best friend (John McClain) and I were playing on one of his Dad's boats. The boat was behind his house on one of those things...so it can be pulled behind a car. We were playing....Space something to do with Space and Aliens and Lasers. And John is moving along the outer edge of the boat when suddenly he starts slapping at himself and falls off the boat and starts running for the house all zig zag. When I yelled for him he just yelled back, "WASPS!!". His sister doctored him up...it was the first time I saw him cry...and I sort of had a hard time not laughing. That's one of the few stories in my "growing up" file that doesn't involve me being hurt in some way.

It also reminds me of this time I was out sick when I was in high school. When I came back, people asked me what was wrong and before I even thought about it I said, "I woke up in the middle of the night covered with scorpions and they stung me, so I had to go to the hospital." And maybe it was just the way I said it but everyone just believe me.

NAMCO Teaches Philosophy

I was just on my 10 minute break and this occurred to me: Mrs. Pac-man is a great metaphor for life. Go with me a second. Okay, good, bad, or indifferent, everybody dies. We are all gonna die. Sooner or later. Purpose or random. Accident, old age, expected, unexpected. That's the great equalizer. We're all mortal and our time is limited. Therefore, what we do with that time is what's important. Cure cancer, world peace, whatever. Even the bad and the evil and the wrong that we do will live on after us. We can all name evil men, serial killers, assassins. (Off subject - isn't it a little sad that we know so many serial killers' names but their victims are, for the most part, anonymous to us, just numbers, death tolls)
It's just like Mrs. Pac-Man (or Pac-Man, I like Mrs. Pac-Man better). Eventually, Inky, Blinky, Pinky, and Sue are gonna get you. Whether you're on the cherry level or the banana level, you will slip up, zig when you should have zagged, and then there you are, melting into a puddle. What do you do with that time, those lives, those chances?
Swing for the fences, eat a power pellet and try and get all four ghosts? Set the highest score? It's not about 'win' or 'lose' -- it's about time. And how smartly (or foolishly) use it, how well you run the maze. I'll leave you to decide the social context of the little ACTs between levels (ACT I THEY MEET, ACT II THE CHASE, etc.).

Shoot, Coward, You'll Only Kill A Man

I'm frayed. I'm tired of looking in the barrel of the gun. The fear of looking stupid in front of an audience.
The grinding of teeth, the biting of tongues. I'm just bored with it. At least once we open this weekend for good or for ill -- there'll be something new to think about. The problem is not letting all the noise and bullshit infect me while I'm on stage. Even as various parts of the show fall down around me and others -- we all have to maintain like we are badass. I'm trying. But the ebb and flow of some of the people around me makes it hard.

"Wipe that face off your head, bitch." That's what I'd like to say to Jenn K. Every time I look over at that cunt, she's got this horrible baboon scowl on her face. I was amusing myself and others yesterday mimicking her. Of course you look confused, that's what happens when you miss three rehearsals on tech week. Stupid. Fucking. Cunt. Bitch. Bastard. Fuck.

On a somewhat brighter note -- I'm going to have the elite people from the cast over (Friday, Saturday?) for, well, I'm calling it a gathering, not a party. Gina and Geoff are coming down, and Kevin and Megan -- so it should be fun. And my friends Kevin and Marcie are going to come as well. I invited the members of the cast that I think are pretty cool. I don't know who will show up -- but even if it's just Gina and Marcie and Megan and Kevin and Geoff and Kevin -- that's good times. But I think some people will at least stop by. I just hope they can keep it on the DL.

Actually, what do I care -- it's not a cast party -- it's me inviting friends over -- fuck everyone else. And fuck their mothers too.

Well, I'm off to lunch. I'm sure I'll end up multi-blogging today. Keep your eyes open, those of you that check in on me from time to time.

Who Is Nipsy Russell?

For the past two weeks, I've had this compulsion. It's taken me some time to even realize that it's a pattern. Even without being aware of it -- when my mind wanders -- I repeat this name over and over again in my head: Nipsy Russell Nipsy Russell Nipsy Russell Nipsy Russell -- until I suddenly realize that I'm doing it and I think (or blurt out loud), "Who is Nipsy Russell?"
I feel like he (or she?) was an actor on an old sitcom from the 70's. Like Good Times or The Jeffersons or What's Happenin' or something.
I have no idea how Nipsy Russell slipped into my lexicon. All I know is repeating the name over and over has a soothing effect. Try it. There's something about the name that just rolls off the tongue (or the mind). It's like sticking a key in a lock and feeling all the teeth give in. Nipsy Russell. Ah, like the balm of Gilead. Like a cool rag on a hot brow. Like mother's milk. Like lollipops and ice cream with rainbow sprinkles.
Maybe it doesn't matter who Nipsy Russell is (or was, the bastard could be dead for all I know), maybe it just matters what Nipsy Russell means to me. Not just some compulsively repeated name, a key into some back door in my gray matter.
It has the same effect on me that The Litany Against Fear has on Paul Atreides in Dune:

I shall not Fear
Fear is the mind killer
Fear is the little death that brings on total oblivion
I shall face my fear
I shall allow it to pass over me and through me
Then I shall look with the inner eye
Where the Fear has gone there will be nothing
Only I shall remain.

Or in my case:

Nipsy Russell Nipsy Russell Nipsy Russell
Nipsy Russell
Nipsy Russell Nipsy Russell
Nipsy
Russell
Nipsy Russell Nipsy Russell
Nipsy Russell
Nipsy Russell

Check Up From The Neck Up

So much to say and so little time.
We were out of Rocky on Friday and Saturday, no rehearsal.
The reasons for this are still pretty unclear to me - two days gone, wasted.

Well, not wasted -- but not used for Rocky, anyway.

Friday -- I went to see Team America: World Police with Kim and Jay and
Kim's brother (Tom? Yes?) and Steve Mac and his boyfriend (Jeremy? Yes?)
We all met up at El Patro's before the movie and had a little Mexican.

I got there early, before anyone else, so I went next door to the K-Mart.
It was fabulous, in a ghetto, depressing sort of way.
Aisle half stocked. DVD's locked behind glass cabinets. Oh, and razors locked
behind cabinets too. And we're not talking straight razors here, just MACH 3's

Awkward single person moment -- Kim, her brother and Jay were on one check,
Steve and his boyfriend on another -- so the waiter (quite a character) says in this
loud voice 'Ohhh, and you by yourself.'
Thanks, fucker. Yes. Lonley, lonley me, lonley as a tree.

Moving on. The movie was great, really funny. I loved the speech at the end:
The world can be divided into three kinds of people -- dicks, pussies, and assholes.
Great stuff.

Kim Gray. What sort of a cruel god would put somebody like her into my path and
provide her with a boyfriend (one who's, if not cool, at least very nice). I had a great
time hanging out with them -- but I don't think I'm going to do it again. I have a feeling
that it's not really very...healthy somehow. And thus far, I don't really flirt or drool or
make an ass of myself...but I worry that on some level everybody knows my deal and
can see right through me and they know that I showed up cause Kim invited me and
I just want to hang out with her, truth be told...

My new quote for my King Of Crushes status comes from Eternal Sunshine Of The Spotless
Mind -- "Why do I fall in love with every woman that shows me the least bit of attention?"

Kim Gray. I just got to find some way past all that. Plan B : avoidance. Disappear. Fade.

Saturday we had our reading of The 1940's Radio Hour. We are going to be so pressed for time
(it opens December 2nd) but I think that the cast is really good. It's going to be great to work with
David and Larry and Todd and Debbie and Elizabeth...I'm interested to work with the new people
too....Jason and Josh and the others...I'm sure it will be stressful but at this point that's a relative
term, isn't it.....

After the reading I did some grocery shopping and then Sarah, Jeff, David and Steve Miller all went
to O'boys in Winter Park. And it was nice...maybe it had just been a long time (David's birthday?)
since I had the David and Steve combo meal...but they weren't that bad....very funny, in fact.
After O'boys we all went to The Red Fox Lounge to bask in the glory of Mark and Lorna. Lorna sang
'Sway' and Mark did 'Just a Gigolo'. David and Steve had never been before....we all had a blast.

Sunday was costume parade. I'll be honest, I'm about to go to lunch and today, so far, has been miserable at work and I just don't have the energy to bitch and piss and moan good and proper about Rocky right now.
Maybe later. Or tomorrow.

I'm sure after tonight there will be more material. I can say that we are going to have preview audiences on both Wednesday and Thursday.

To quote Scar from The Lion King, "Oh goodie."

Maybe Next Time I'll Be Born In 1940?

I guess I should mention that I've been cast in Jeff's production of The 1940's Radio Hour.
In the role of Wally Ferguson, the delivery boy (His delivery wasn't good enough)
The full list is at www.baystreetplayers.org
There are a lot of people that it will be fun to work with.
Like David and Larry -- I've been a fan of and friends with them since I knew them as Hinckley and Zangara in Assassins -- I'm glad that Wally has so many moments with their characters.
And Todd got in as Lou -- it'll be cool to do another show with Todd.
And, of course, Elizabeth rules the planet. I just hope that I'll have a Wally that's worthy of my cast.

Is it weird that I feel guilty that Marcie and Jenn didn't get cast? I mean, I had no say about that stuff. Totally Jeff's deal, his show and he can cast it however he likes. But, I don't know, I feel bad that I'm in the show (and I felt indifferent towards it - if I didn't get cast, I wouldn't have been broken up about it) and someone like Marcie was so into the show and the audition -- I don't know, it makes me feel guilty. Like it's my fault or I got a pass or I got handed something I didn't deserve. And this isn't anything that Marcie or Jenn put on me -- it's just the feelings that bubble up from me, naturally. It's funny, when I should feel guilty about something I actually did, I can be a complete sociopath -- but with things like this, when it's out of my hands, I have this heavy feeling in my chest. I must be paying for something from a past life (or a future life - remind me to tell you my theory of nonlinear soul progression -- cause who's to say that once you die, that you have to be reborn in only one direction on the river of time -- in my next life I could be plucked down during The Gilded Age or maybe Feudal Japan.)

We have our first read through this Saturday. Christmas here we come.

Sway Me Smooth, Sway Me Now

I have a lot of odd ticks and mannerisms.
Most of them are nervous 'tells' or unconscious gestures.
I just find myself doing them.
I pull at my earlobes, I bite my bottom lip, my cheeks twitch. I rapid fire blink.
My fingers perform what I think of as 'air piano'.
Lately, I find myself tilting my head at a strange angle. And when I'm standing, I sway.
Back and forth. Like I'm on a boat. I don't know that I'm doing it until somebody asks me to stop
cause I'm making them seasick.

If I thought about it a little harder, I could think of more -- I'm almost constantly adding to my routine --

Two Steps Forward (I Hope)

I've got posters for Rocky Horror. They're actually pretty cool -- it's funny how a few months of disappointment and waste can lower your tolerance for those moments when things go right. So, maybe they aren't the coolest of the cool (the posters) but since I was expecting shit, being handed something less smelly and vile feels nice. You can see a part of the poster on the website www.theatredowntown.net
It's very Andy Warhol meets Night Of The Living Dead.
Anyway, last night's rehearsal went well. We ran The Time Warp a bunch of times, then Sweet Transvestite, Once In A While (fast becoming my favorite part), and then we ran what I like to call the 'oh shit theyzuh killin' er'body' part when Riff lasers Columbia, Frank, and a bunch of phantoms (and Magenta snaps a phantom's neck and throws her at me). Then the phantoms were free to go home.
Tonight, we're going to do a rough run through. We'll see how that all plays out.

You always blog the ones you love, blog fever has infected two more lost souls
Todd (my counterpart in the forklift phantoms) www.averagehero.blogspot.com
Amber, my sis, www.missummm.blogspot.com
And to quote Glinda from Wicked "I couldn't be happier"

More posts later if I get a chance.

Fugue

What is going on today? I'm really having my first little taste of not liking my job. Not that I've ever loved my job -- it's just a job, you know -- but there's something about today that has me totally drained and depressed. My thoughts today are drifting near the subject of my dubious future. And all of those thoughts are ever decreasing concentric circles moving counterclockwise towards the drain.
This mood is merging with my fears and nerves about Rocky and my apathy about 1940s Radio Hour. Seems like no matter how exactly I spend my time over the final months of this year, it'll be a waste. A disappointment. A tiresome mess.
I just want to go home. Wait, a minute, no I don't. I don't know what I want. I wish I could have distilled and bottled my ability to look into the future and see something good for myself -- not the thousands of ways I'm going to fail and fuck up and turn things to shit -- I didn't use to worry this much about where I would be in 5 years, 10 years. And then, sometime after the worrying, I just stopped thinking about it altogether -- until days like this when it hits me. Special little days like today.
What a useless, whining loser I am. I need to get out of this building, I need to get....and that's the problem, isn't it.....I'm great at feeling like shit....I just don't know what it's going to take to get me to the other end of the spectrum.
Maybe it's a fake it until you feel it thing. Smile til your jaw aches, laugh the longest and the loudest.....is it weak of me to say I miss Zoloft on days like this...even though I know (first hand) that this isn't clinical depression -- with that lovely little imbalance you don't need things like the future, or worry, or Rocky, or work to make you feel bad, you just feel bad....I just wish that I could swallow a tiny blue pill and feel......if not normal then at least, I don't know the word I want....

Even. Stable, maybe. Something. Is there any surprise that I come from a long line of suicides?.....
I'd blow my brains out too if I thought that would disrupt this black and red cloud hanging around me.

So, that's that.

Radio Free 1940s

So tonight is Jeff's audition and I'm pretty nervous. He hasn't gotten the turn out that he wanted or expected. Not many people at all. That's really too bad. For the most part, I think the people he's seen so far (Marcie, David, Ashley, Debbie) are all amazing and for me I would love to work with them (Marcie and David) or work with them again (Ashley and Debbie).
Jeff is now reading me for Clifton and Lou in addition to Wally. That's where all my nerves come into play. I would love to play Wally and I think I know the deal with Wally. Lou would be fun too. And Clifton would be great (like being the star) -- the only problem with being Clifton is that that was Jeff's part when he was in the show in college and Clifton is going to be put through some paces -- I'm just nervous that since all I paid attention to for so long was Wally, that I won't have a good reading of Clifton or Lou. And now I think that the musical director's (can't remember his name) boyfriend (can't remember his either) is the frontrunner for Wally -- cause the guy played the part with the touring company of the show. If that's true I really do need to read well for Lou or Clifton -- maybe concentrate on Lou the most since I'm sure Ashley is gunning for Clifton.
Tonight Sarah and Jenn and Andy and Todd and Caroline are all going (no Rocky for some of us!) I don't know what everybody is going out for. Sarah and Caroline both want Connie. I have a feeling that once Jenn and Andy see the drive ahead of them -- they'll both bow out. Todd may make a good Lou. Great, so now I'm carpooling with my competition!

On the Rocky Horror front, all I will say is that we are finally in the theatre. Theatre Downtown. And it's really nice. The set is up and I have to admit that even in its primordial state, it looks pretty damn cool. Can't wait to see it painted and finished. Sarah was put into a bad postion with Jodi (thanks to Seth) and Jodi spent a lot of time yesterday pouting and talking in that slurring-I-could-give-a-shit tone.

Like A Phantom Limb

This is a little funny, watching the Noises Off DVD this past Saturday, I found myself getting nervous right before each of my entrances. I would hear the cue lines and I would think to myself: Oh My God! I Have To Go On!. My heart started to beat really fast and just sitting there on the couch I felt like I was running a race. Weird, I mean, if I had missed a cue on whatever night the DVD was recorded, there'd be nothing to do about it now...thankfully, I didn't miss any.

During the run, I only remember being nervous before that first entrance. I can remember the night that the whole front row was made up of my friends: Jeff, Sarah, Steve Miller, David, Kim, Kris and Bob...and at another performance Amber and Brian and my Dad were right there in the front. I know a lot of people (Jeff, for one) don't like to have that front row full of familiar faces...not me. I love that. That, pressure. That feeling that, 'I've got to do well, they're right there.' To me, there's always more nerves when you've got 'your' people in the audience...I mean, the rest of the audience...they're strangers...they may like it or hate it...but you never really see them again.

It was also interesting to watch all the scenes that I wasn't a part of, to see all the funny stuff people came up with (especially in ACT II - that whole ACT is run run run never look back). I love that show, I would be in a production of Noises Off again in a second. I feel like I could do so much more with Garry/Roger now. Who knows, maybe I'll get another shot at it someday.

I was so impressed with the quality of the DVD. The picture is crisp. The sound is good. There's even a fun little menu page. The only problem with taping a show like that is: The only people who want to watch it are the people who are in it. I've had to sit through enough of them to know. I think it's because in addition to the show, the story...you're caught up in the nostalgia as well. Maybe my mom will want to watch it since she didn't come down to see the show.

Shows I would one day want to be in:
Picasso At The Lapin Agile (either as Freddy, Schmendiman, or if I had the chops, Picasso)
Beyond Therapy (Bruce, Bob, or Stuart)
ART (Yvan, again if I had the chops)
How I Learned To Drive (odd choice for me, Male Greek Chorus)
Lobby Hero (Jeff) (and I've actually been a security guard)

Shows I would love to reprise a role in:
Noises Off (Garry/Roger, and maybe one day as Lloyd)
The Musical Comedy Murders of 1940 (Eddie McCuen)

Shows I glad I had the chance to do cause I'll never be cast in that part again:
Private Lives (Elyot Chase)
Oh, I guess that's the only one.

I can say that I've purged The Rocky Horror Show from my system.
I'll never feel the need to be a phantom again. That is over.
This is going to be my final Time Warp, my final jump to the left, step to the right...

A Little Mental Snapshot

It's rainy outside. So far, this Monday is shaping up to be a 'read the newspaper on the floor watch an old black and white movie' kind of day. Or it would be if I weren't at work. Gerrr, arrggh.

The Weekend Ends Here

The weekend was a blur and here we are at Monday (Moanday).
Even though we may spend more time together than a broken up couple should -- I had fun with Sarah on Friday, ordering pizza and renting the Will Ferrill Best Of Saturday Night Live DVD (Goulet!).
Saturday, I came into work for three hours, then it was off to rehearsal (SSDD - Natalie trying to crank out The Floor Show -- stupid cunts -Anti-Babe, ha, they should call it Anti-Pretty - dragging their feet). After rehearsal on Saturday, me, Sarah, Jenn, Jeff, Andy, Natalie, Steve Schneider, and Todd went to the Ale House to bond/vent/make each other laugh.
That's the funny thing about being in a fucked up situation like Rocky -- you end up making good friends out of it. In a weird way, it's a soldiers-in-battle thing. Cause when I tell the Rocky stories to other people they get them -- but something is lost in translation -- and since we're all in the same miserable boat, you find yourself speaking a shorthand that is just understood.
So, Steve and Todd suggested Jager shots -- Jager? While the sun is still out? What is this you speak of? Yes, of course, I'll join you. By the time I left the Ale House I was feeling no pain.
Afterwards, I went to Elizabeth's house and the Noises Off DVD viewing. Elizabeth is the world's best hostess. It was nice to see David and Patrick (they had to leave pretty quick). Elizabeth and Michael Scott and Ashley and Kevin watched the DVD. Alyson showed up after it was over and we all hung out, went to the hot tub, drank (Kevin makes a mean drink). And it was nice. No Michael or Maddie or Stephanie. Eh, what can you do? I had a really good time, drank too many, what did Kevin call them, Cape Cods? And spent the night at Elizabeth's. Woke up Sunday morning, hangover, drove home, went back to bed.
Funny thing about my some of Noises Off cast - some of them seem to think they know me based on certain mistakes I made. (and I did make mistakes, never doubt it, but I love how in a lot of versions of The Story, I'm the only one who makes bad choices, the villain) For them I am forever that person. And that person has been set in concrete, there's no changing their perceptions. And these mistakes are almost constantly brought up and thrown in my face. When it's done, it's done casually, and don't think when it's done that it's meant to be mean spirited -- that's why I don't really say, 'That's an old, stale ass topic, could we move on a bit.' I would be willing to move on from that and try to put together new friendships with them but...it's weird...I think there's too much history, bad blood, whatever...for that to happen. I think the most we could all hope for is to be civil when we see each other. That's possible. But as to being friends the way we were all friends during the run of the show -- I don't see that happening, which is a shame. That's the way I see it right now, anyway. I mean who wants to hang out with people who are more or less always telling some version of the statement: You're were such an asshole. That gets old.
(sorry, Gentle Reader, if that last paragraph was a little inside - there's no time to explain all the puzzle pieces - and trust me, it is an old, stale ass topic indeed)
So, Amber and Brian come down Sunday to see Rob's final performance of The Last Five Years. It was good to see them again. Then, they went with Jeff to help him out with his auditions for 1940s Radio Hour. That was pretty cool of them to help out.
I did not go to the auditions. Neither did Sarah. Instead, we went to rehearsal (even though the day was suppose to be excused) and were there to learn Touch-A Touch-A Touch Me. Well, Jodi was an hour and a half late. (So, we could have easily gone, auditioned, then been back with more than enough time to spare).
And Jodi didn't have the choreography ready to go. And guess what? We didn't finish the dance. Amazing. Add to that a number of dangerous stunts that Sarah is being asked to do and you have your basic, complete waste of time. It's stuff that prevents her from actually being able to sing her song. Genius. Well thought out. Perfect. Bunch of fucking idiots. Which is more important in a musical: singing or flipping over a pole? You make the call.
Afterward, me, Sarah, and Todd stopped at a Dunkin' Donuts (side note - because of the recent hurricanes -- this Dunkin' Donuts didn't have A/C and it was like a sauna inside, I felt so bad for the old guy working there) to do a little more venting. Starting today we are at Theatre Downtown. Most of the set has been built and we'll have to see how some of the 'finished' choreography melds with the new environment.
11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22 (There you have it. That's how many days left)

The shaven ape sits at work on a Saturday

So here I am at work on a Saturday.
311 is blaring from my computer right now.
The actual work I'm here to do (I got here at 7:05 am) is finished.
Right now it's all just soaking up overtime.

Last night was all about hair: either the coloring of it or shaving it off.
The mop of hair of my head is now jet black (licorice black according to the box).
And my chest, belly, back (wasn't too much of that to begin with - small blessings),
and nether regions haven't been this smooth and hairless since I was ten.

I haven't decided if I like this or not. I will admit it's not as bad as I thought it would be
(and as I've said before - I've trimmed and 'manscaped' before - just not to this extreme)
And I drew the line (almost literally) at my calves, thighs, forearms -- so they are their
old hirsute selves. Overall, beyond feeling a little weird (and on some level, like a poseur-
trying to imitate a hairless guy) it's not bad. I'm neutral to it at this time. With a slight
lean toward friendship.

Now I'm playing a little Beck. Yeah, I should go -- but I at least need to stick around until
Craig gets here. I didn't think this out very well.

Random thought --- you know what I think my motto may be? Over the last, I don't know,
five days or so, I've found myself repeating the same phrase in several different, unrelated
situations --- here's the phrase --- "I don't even want to deal with this."

"I don't even want to deal with this." I have this creeping feeling that in nine out of ten
encounters in my daily life I could say this and it would be true. I don't think I want this
to be my motto -- it's not a very proud moment for me or anything.
Just something I noticed.

MARAT/SADE

Dramatis Personae:

Me - hello, hi, how ya doing. A phantom.
Sarah - playing the part of Janet, my ex girlfriend (once again, that's a post of a different color)
Jeff - my best friend, playing the Narrator
Jenn Wood - a phantom, my show crush, she rules
Natalie - playing Magenta, she also rules, I can't say enough nice things about her.
Todd - a phantom. My dawg, my boy, my {insert heterosexual male term of affection here}
Tammy - a phantom, totally cool. Great dancer.
Tyler - a phantom, small doses person, sometimes I dislike her sometimes she's okay.
Elton - a phantom, weird guy, eats fire, that kind of stuff, did I say weird?
April - a phantom, weird girl, eats, well, eats Elton, I suppose. Sorry I couldn't resist.
Jenn - a phantom, know as UnCool Jenn. Anti-babe. Terrible in the show
Amanda - a phantom, waste of space, Anti-babe, can somebody get this girl a pillow?
Steve S. - guitarist phantom, cool as hell.
Seth - our director, full of great ideas, a little too wishy washy to handle the stuff that's going on.
John - Frank N Furter, he rules, but I think he may be a little too close to Jodi.
Jodi - our choreographer, lazy, unprepared, no motivation.
Kim - our AD, nice, she's basically the Stage Manager because (see entry under Dana)
Dana - Stage Manager, useless for everything that doesn't involve eating funnel cake.
Matt - playing Brad. Fuck this guy. A tool.
Ward - playing Eddie/Dr. Scott. He's okay.
Steve - playing Riff Raff. Eh, also okay.
Katrina - playing Columbia. The girl can sing, in all other regards, she sucks.

Okay, now that you have this handy dandy key, I have one thing to say about last night's rehearsal:

The inmates have taken over the asylum.

So Sarah and I get to rehearsal last night and there's little Tammy sipping on a drink and she looks up at us and says, 'Jodi's not going to be here.' Sip. I'm amazed at how well she maintains her anger. She's all calm as a Hindu cow on the outside but underneath that, she (like most of the cast) is pissed. Actually, let me put that in upper case, Pissed.

Natalie steps in and handles choreography for 'Once In A While'. She is a bad ass. She is now also in charge of the 'Don't Dream It, Be It' section of Floor Show. Jodi's idea for that was just a random grope session, or as Jenn Woods put it, 'a pig pile'. Anyway, Natalie has stepped up to the plate and Seth owes her big time.

Sarah, Tammy, Tyler, and Jenn Woods reworked 'Eddie's Teddy' and now it looks good. Unlike the horrible and dull and stupid crap Jodi had us doing (that she spent about three minutes thinking up).

UnCool Jenn spent most of the night pissing on territory for Jodi, she had lots of "notes" for the non Jodi choreography. Stupid bitch. If Jodi wanted this job she should have put forth some effort. It's not up to UnCool Jenn to grade the new dances, God knows she hasn't said boo to Jodi. I know that's her friend and all but fuck the two of them. Amanda sat on the floor on a pillow the whole night. The two of them are awful in the show anyway. I am on a "Fire The Anti-Babes" kick right now. They're all anchors on the show. In my humble opinion.

Seth covered his ass by saying that, "as we get closer to opening the line between director and choreographer and everyone will start to blur." Natalie asked him if she should start working on something for 'Touch-A Touch-A Touch Me' and Seth said, "um, that's really Jodi's thing and if I take that away from her she'll never talk to me again." To which Sarah replied, "Well, if I look stupid in my song, I'll never talk to you again." And even Katrina chimed in with a, "yeah, Seth, do you want one person mad at you or the whole cast mad at you?" Good point.

Seth offered to give Sarah and Natalie credit in the program for "movement" but they both declined. They knew it would be more trouble than it was worth.

The suspense is incredible, I hope it will last. I would just like to thank Natalie for taking the tiny spark of hope I had for this show and expanding it to a two inch flame. Natalie rules.

Two Reviews, Both Alike In Dignity

Ha. It turns out Todd's voicemail was about a review in the Orlando Weekly.
It was for Mad Cow's Romeo & Juliet, and Scott Hodges (feel free to boo and hiss, Gentle Reader)
did not receive a very favorable review. This would tickle me pink and leave me twittering with laughter if it
weren't for two things: Number 1) The reviewer was Al Krulick (not the best respected critic around). And Number 2) I have nightmares about what the reviews for Rocky Horror may look like.

There you have it, snatching defeat from the jaws of victory. Still, I'm just pissy and mean spirited enough to be a little pleased with the bad review. Just judging from the two things I've seen him in (Bat Boy & Whipping Wally Whomper), he's never impressed me much. Why all this nastiness and pettiness you ask? Why be glad at a poor review of some lame hairlip sporting hippie? Easy:

I don't like the cut of his jib. Ah, enough of him, there's plenty of Hairlip fodder for future posts, I'm sure.

Also in the Weekly was a review of Mad Cow's The Shape Of Things. Rocky's very own Steve Schneider wrote that one (a much better writer and critic). It didn't get a glowing review -- but it does star one of my little crushes -- Heather Leonardi, so, to me, it would be worth seeing. It's not a true crush really. She's just a person from the local theatre community that I wish I ran in the same circles with. She's really talented. And, yes, very cute. But for all I know she could be a complete cunt. Or a Southern Baptist. And since I have a little crush on her, I would be totally incapable of rational speech in her presence. I'm an idiot that way.

Check out the reviews www.orlandoweekly.com There's a picture of Hairlip Hodges and of Heather Leonardi.

The bright little center of the universe

Suddenly I'm in 8th grade again....coming from Crystal's radio (here at work) is a little bit of rap nostalgia that goes, 'All I wanna do is Zooma Zoom Zoom Zoom and a Boom Boom! Shake Ya Rump!' I can almost smell the school bus. Funny song.

Hung out with Amber last night. Her and Brian's concert (Social Distortion - I feel like I know the name but I have no idea what they may sing) was cancelled. Somebody ate a bad clam or something. So, the concert was moved to tonight and their tickets from yesterday are still good for today. This seems like a strange policy to me but whatever. They're gonna go tonight instead and drive like mad for Jax afterward cause Amber has to finish up some work on Friday. For those of you keeping score at home, she's an Art Teacher for 6th through 8th grade.

They may or may not still be asleep on the couch, lucky bastards.

As for me, I forgot that I was suppose to help out one of my fellow phantoms (Tyler) by being in this 10 minute scene for some class of hers. Why do I let myself get roped into crap like this? What's wrong with me? Stupid.
I agreed to do it without thinking, like, 'Yeah, sure, sounds cool, okay, yes.' And now I don't want to do it. And the way my wormy little mind works, I'm trying to think up a reasonable lie to get out of it. Todd also agreed to help with the scene and a little while ago he called my cell -- but for some reason I don't like to answer my cell (that's another post altogether) -- it makes me nervous -- and now there's a voicemail waiting from him -- and I have this sense of dread that he's going to beat me to the punch and get out of the scene before me. Why did I say I would help out? I don't help out with things, I hate helping out. I'm too self centered to help people, it's just a pain in the neck and an ache in the ass and a milky drip from the tip of a sore dick. Helping out sucks. Period. Plus, I think that in order to do this scene -- we'd have to miss rehearsal on Monday -- and I'm already going to be out Sunday and Tuesday (for Jeff's audition). I can't miss another day. Life would be easier if I could just say, "Totally changed my mind, can't help, sorry".

Anyway, enough of that mess, days from now I won't even remember what the big deal was.

Your Friends & Neighbors

Marcie www.annoyingsleepycat.blogspot.com
Gina www.gigimarie.blogspot.com
Megan www.livejournal.com/users/mevinan
Kevin www.livejournal.com/pyke_sanspants
Autumn www.livejournal.com/users/carrus
Bill www.livejournal.com/users/archiedavis

There we are, everybody neat and pretty. I'm sure there is a fancier way to link everyone up but I don't know it yet. Every time I try to go to those Edit Me things under Links I get sent to a dead page or downed server or whatever the term is. I'm such a Luddite. The computer is just an evil spirit that has to be soothed through an intense series of rituals and blood oaths and voodoo charms and holy relics, to make sure it won't swallow your soul.

I am so glad that I had a night off from Rocky tonight, I got so much done. Cleaned the house, did laundry, cooked dinner, worked out, listened to some music (Franz, Scissor Sisters, and currently Death Cab For Cutie).

There is, however, a little Rocky drama tonight. Sarah, myself and a few other members of the cast all asked for permission weeks ago to audition for Jeff's upcoming show (1940's Radio Hour). Seth, our Rocky director, approved of this. Now, because we are so far behind because of our choreographer's (Jodi's) lazy bullshit, he's saying that we are not allowed to miss (the days requested were this upcoming Sunday and Tuesday).

Guess what, fucker? I am spoiling for a fight. Fuck you. Fuck your mother. Fuck your passive shit. Fuck your poor judgement in choosing Jodi. Fuck the fact that you should have confronted her weeks ago, you saw where this was heading. Fuck her for wasting our time and stalling with grope sessions and story time shit.

And I hope that Seth doesn't think that just because he talked to Jeff and Sarah that they'd just pass this info on to me and that's that. No. You have to come to me as the director and tell me (the guy that hasn't missed a single rehearsal, the guy that doesn't piss and moan, the guy doing things he didn't even think he was capable of, the guy that's lifting every fucking person in the show, the guy who's slowly been driven insane from anxiety dealing with all of the shit coming from that end of the creative table) tell that guy who asked for and received permission weeks ago to be off Sunday and Tuesday, tell that guy that because our choreographer has wasted all our time that I'm not allowed to audition for Jeff's show.

I can't wait.

I feel the crazy, red hazed Diann Geoghagan energy sizzle and pop around me like a black envelope of molecules.

I am so ready to unload. I am so ready to have this conversation with Seth. Cause we all know that tomorrow night, Jodi is going to be pulling the same fly by the seat of her pants shit. Whether it's pretty or not, and judging so far, it's not. I know that as I type this, Jodi is not listening to the Rocky music and writing down ideas and trying stuff out at her place. That's not happening. She has fucked this up. That's not my fault. It's Seth's mess cause he let her go this far.

I won't let Rocky haunt my November and December .

Oh, Amber and Brian just showed up, gotta go chat them up and see what's going on.

Getting Into Trouble Weather

I love autumn. Crisp, cool weather. Halloween / Thanksgiving weather. Granted, I live in Florida which doesn't give a person much cause to own sweaters and jackets but I think the fact that down here in the dusty delta antebellum magnolia orange grove tourist trap strip mall Mouseland heat only makes such cool weather even more beautiful and special.
Today the weather is so nice. It's close to what I call 'getting into trouble' weather. I received my first and second speeding tickets in the month of October. I can still remember the songs that were playing on the radio way back then: Green Day's 'Geek Stink Breath' for the first and The Prodigy's 'Smack My Bitch Up' for the second.
70 in a 35. Heading to the Jacksonville Fair. God alone knows what was in my system.
I hope this means that we've seen the end of all the central Florida humidity for a little bit.

Oh my stars and garters!

On a scale from zero to Robin Williams, I'm probably a strong four. Maybe a three. From the waist down I'm hairy as a satyr. Hand me some Pan pipes and goat hooves and send me to forest to dance and cavort. This being my lot in life, I've been asked to remove my body hair for The Rocky Horror Show. Which I will do cause I see nothing wrong with a little 'manscaping'. I just don't want to look like a shaven ape or like my balls haven't dropped yet.

Here's to clean living. And Nair. And electric razors with a number two guard.

The last Rocky related thing I'll mention is Natalie and Katrina doing the reprise of 'Science Fiction'.
The arrangement is like the song 'Midnight Radio' from Hedwig and The Angry Inch and those two just rock out on it. Katrina may be fat, splotchy, lazy, a horrible actress, a terrible Columbia (she's totally stealing Jackie's 'song-logue' almost verbatim), and a diva -- but the one thing I can't take away from her is that she can sing. And Natalie, she just rules no matter how you slice it. Her Magenta is bad ass -- I'm so glad that my blocking gives me several moments to interact with her. She's one of the few things I'm not worried about in regards to the show. And their moment there at the end could end up being really powerful and cool. My fear is that the audience will have already checked out of the show by that time.

Called Elizabeth (from Noises Off) yesterday. She's having a cast party for BABY on Saturday and wants to segue that into a Noises Off DVD viewing later in the evening. If it comes together, I'm be there. I've been curious to see the DVD all the way through since I got a glimpse of it at The Dolly Awards.

Of course if it doesn't work out for Saturday, I'm gaming at Kevin and Marcie's. I can even begin to explain the fun and joy of finding people who like to roleplay and yet at the same time have other interests. Cause a lot of gaming people are a little weird and scary to me. I think anyone who's too into one hobby can get a little weird.

Anyway --- hey that's strange -- I keep trying to hit the italic key and it doesn't work -- or I'm doing something wrong --suddenly, poof, no italics. Okay. Where was I, oh yes -- last time we played Marcie and I wiped the floor with a bunch of zombies (maybe that's another reason I liked Shaun Of The Dead so much). And Marcie went up a level and I'm close. Zombies, bah. Bring on githyanki or ilithids or drow or what have you. Between my psionic monk half drow and Marcie's magic using elven ranger....we cannot be defeated.

Okay, enough geek speak. A lot of people probably read the last two paragraphs like, "what?".

Auditions for 1940's Radio Hour are this Sunday. Can't wait. I don't know if I have the Wally Ferguson in me that Jeff wants but it would be cool to end the year doing another show at Bay Street. There would be a nice flow to doing Noises Off at the begining of the year and then 1940's Radio Hour at the end. Plus, I imagine that downtown Eustis is very pretty at Christmas time.

So, Amber's coming down tonight with Brian to see some concert at House Of Blues. She's going to spend the night and head back to Jax thursday morning. I'm looking forward to seeing her. Even if it's just for a bit.

Steve Miller just sent me an email inviting me to go and see the Scissor Sisters with him next month. And while Steve is surely at times one of the most annoying human beings I've ever met -- I'll freely admit that he has great taste in music and I'd go see a concert with him. I haven't seen a concert since earlier this year when I saw The Strokes (they ruled, thankee-sai). And I bet the Scissor Sisters put on a great live show.

Todd (a fellow phantom from Rocky -- where else do phantoms come from -- the opera) let me borrow a Death Cab For Cutie cd and it's really good. I'm totally keeping Todd around after Rocky is a dim memory. He's cool. And it's nice to have a straight male friend around. A guy, you know. Cause Kevin and Geoff are in Jacksonville and for the most part all my male friends here in Orlando are gay. (The only exception I can think of is Kevin, of Kevin and Marcie fame). But anyway, I'm keeping Todd around. And Jenn Woods. Right now they are the only two people from the show that I want to have anything to do with once Rocky is over. Well, Natalie. And Steve Schneider, he rules too. Funny and razor smart and cool. But that's it.

Man, I have a Nirvana song stuck in a loop in my head. It was one that was released after Cobain's suicide. The chorus goes, "Come on over and do the Twist, I might do it and have a fit". At least I think that's how it went. Can't remember the name of the song though. It's better than the last few days, I had Joy Division stuck in my head......"Love, love will tear us apart, again....love, love will tear us apart, again...". Over and over, depressing, wait, well, it is Joy Division, isn't it.

...without you, it's not as much fun to pick up the pieces...

So, I still feel really bad about snapping at Jeff at rehearsal yesterday. I apologized to him before he left and he accepted it but I'm still carrying around a little baggage from it. That kind of venom should be spit at people who deserve it. Don't you just love it when your hobby turns into this horrible....labor. And all over a pair of red suspenders. Don't ask, it's not even half a story.

What the Hell is wrong with me? Such a coward. I can never tell two different people the same story. Sometimes I feel like I don't really have a personality, just a series of concepts and masks that I change depending on who's in the room with me. I hate that about myself.

It's like all the people I know and sort of know are these differently shaped, colored glass jars (flasks, vases, beakers, whatever). And the shape and color of each of them is their personality and stories and opinions and all the things that make them into people I like (or dislike or am indifferent to, depending on the person). And me, I'm like water that just pours himself into whatever people I'm around, giving them an aspect of myself that more or less reflects their shape and color. And sometimes when there are too many shapes in the room, I don't know who I'm suppose to be anymore. God, rereading that makes me feel a little dizzy and
odd.

I'm a sheep. I never stand up for myself or for my friends. Useless. I just go along to get along. Even when I know things are wrong I just freeze....and do nothing. I would probably have made a great soldier for Cortez, killing Aztecs, or a wonderful NAZI party member, or an aide to Joseph McCarthy. Frozen. Go along to get along. Even when I know I'm doing something wrong. I never want to rock the boat, upset anyone. Confront anyone. I never stand. I hate that about myself too.

Freud Freud go away, come again some other day.

The Purpose And The Random

This isn't a big deal, I suppose. But on my profile they have my astrological sign listed as Pisces -- and all the horoscopes I've ever looked at, I'm an Aquarius.
Maybe I'm a cusp. Who knows.

Rocky Horror rehearsal this weekend, you ask? I can't even start in on that. The only thing that makes me happy is the fact that I'm not the only person with issues. With the exceptions of a small handful of moments, yesterday's rehearsal was a complete waste of my time. Uh-oh, I'm starting in on it....it's all the same stuff, really, SSDD as it were. The only difference is that now we only have 18 days left until we open --- that's the one constant, time slipping away from us. I keep an imaginary hourglass just over my left shoulder and all I can hear is the soft, relentless hiss of sand filling the bottom portion of it.

And I just hate that I keep having these back pedaling conversations with all my friends, the ones who are coming to the show. This 'it might not be as good as all that' type conversations. Sucks.

Got to have a little Gina and Geoff time this weekend. They came down for Halloween Horror Nights and while I didn't go with them to that, we did end up hanging out at my place and staying up until 5 in the morning, talking, catching up. It was cool.
Had breakfast the next day, some Starbucks, then back up to Jacksonville they went.

On a kind of related note, Amber's coming down this Wednesday to see some concert at House Of Blues. It'll be good to see her too. I'm kinda missing my family right now, Mom, Dad, Amber, Jessica, Michael. It'll be good a have a little time with Amber.
At the rate things are going, it looks like Thanksgiving is going to be the next time I see anybody (unless they come to Rocky).

It's weird now... I have so many people in my life that I have to keep in different universes: Amber, Sarah, Gina and Geoff. Maybe it won't always be that way, who knows. Wow, that's a topic for a lifetime of posts right there. Best move on for now.

Other things that could have been listed in my profile:

Favorite TV Shows: Farscape, Samurai Jack, Six Feet Under, The Sopranos, The Office, MST3K, The Shield, Nip/Tuck, Curb Your Enthusiasm, Home Movies, SeaLab 2021, Survivor (my one reality addiction -- I've auditioned for it three times)

Favorite Artists: James Kolchaka, SHAG, Escher, COOP, Edward Hopper, Haring, Mike Mignola, Mike Avon Oeming, Bruce Timm

VICES: Of all the seven deadly sins, I like the unofficial Eighth deadly sin: Despair.

Current Crush: Could fill many a post -- I have a few, fun little crushes, like a little crush on a girl I work with, a little crush on Elizabeth The Yoga Instructor, and I have a little show crush on one of my fellow phantoms, Jenn. But the major one for me (for a whole year at this point- what's wrong with me) is Kim Gray. Redhead (maybe not naturally but it suits her all the same), great laugh, funny, writes fantastic emails, leaves funny voicemails, and has a boyfriend. Fuck.

And to think, one of my favorite quotes is : Fortune Favors The Bold.

I wish I was a little more bold. That might make for a crazier life but I bet there'd be fewer regrets at the end of it.