I Know, I Know....

....I haven't blogged in a while. Here are some other things that I know:

I've finished reading Through The Looking-Glass and I'm very concerned about what sort of relationship Mister Dodgson had with Alice Liddell.

I'm glad that Horror Over Drinks was so well received at The 2005 Fringe Festival. Our crowds for the second half of our run were amazing. Thanks to everyone who came out and supported us - you know who you are and you rule. For those of you that didn't get a chance to see us at Fringe (and I'm totally not calling anyone out - Hell, my Mom and Dad didn't even see it - Damn, I guess I just called them out) we are reprising our show at Theatre Downtown, I'll have more details for you later.

Tim Hays does amazing monster make-up. It was a pleasure to get to wear his Pinhead mask. And he saved me from the misery that was my last post on this blog. Check out his work at: www.monsterfx.net

I'm reading The Little Prince now - I like it. I sort of, almost, kind of, like They Might Be Giants now, as well -- listening to Flood at Fairy Tales so much has changed my opinion of them.

Not this weekend - but next weekend, next Saturday - I'm going to be a 'friend' of Curious George.

At The Fringe party at The Peacock Room, I just didn't have any wax left for anyone's car - 'You're great-no, you're great- no, really, you are great' We're all great - get me outta this room!

I had a great audition for The Rep. I feel really comfortable with my two monologues now. The Christopher Durang one from Seeking Wild had everyone laughing. And I just love the one from Take Me Out. And I hate monologues, so to find two that I love - that's great. When are Mad Cow's auditions?

I made $42 in tips my first night as a bar back at Club Swank. I've never had a job that tipped before. It's kinda nice. Can't wait until I'm back on their schedule.

Journals are sharp things, hard to pick up - like a sword without a handle.

I'm reading The Arabian Nights, a play by Mary Zimmerman (Anna let me borrow it) - it's really good, not what I expected. Scheherezade. Don't you just love that name. Schederezade. If I had a daughter, I'd want her middle name to be Scheherezade. She'd be clever and funny and talented.

My air conditioning in my car is still out - although, for random, chaotic nights - it will choose to work - always at night at this point - is it the wiring? Is there even wiring involved? A short circuit? Does the actual heat of the day prevent the AC from working? Is that ironic?

Brian Demeter is one of my new favorite artists. He's local and we have one of his original paintings at Fairy Tales. Check him out: www.demeterillustration.com Anyone who names a painting, 'Montague's Love Quandary' is okay by me.

I'm excited/nervous about the Sons Of The Revolution audition.

I'm glad I'm off tomorrow - when it was raining so bad this morning, I thought, 'Today is a day to call in.'

Right now I feel good - maybe not great - but good. Which is nice cause I've had moments over the last two weeks where I wish I could vanish off the face of the Earth. Be blown away like chalk dust. Ether. Vapor. Gone. Oblivion. Put out the light and then put out the light - I've started journal entries or blog posts only to tear up paper or hit delete. No light, no tunnel - that old, draining feeling - as familiar to me as a cherished old photograph of childhood. Snip. Snip. Cut. Cut. Sticky notes. Sticky notes. I'd call my One Man Show, Sticky Notes.

Past is prologue. No dwelling. Future is uncrumpled, white paper. No brooding.

And today is - a little dinner, a little time to myself, maybe a new book or a CD, or a cup of coffee. A little date with my couch. Just a handful of time - the metaphysical equivalent to a 'dash of salt'.

And I am SO down with that right now.

Starting to Hate....

....clown white greasepaint make-up and spirit gum and nail glue and powder and nails and spirit gum remover and latex and acetone and 2 hours to get 'half-way' finished and 3 fucking hours to get 'mostly' cleaned up and driving home looking like one of the bank robbers from Dead Presidents and flaking clouds of make-up and sweat coming off of me like a snow storm and leaving smears of white every-fucking-where, my clothes, John's clothes, Mike's clothes, that I still have black eyeliner on even now (okay, that I don't mind so much).....there, okay, man, it had to be said.....I feel fractions better now.

Janet Jackson Presents: "If, A Quiz"

If a was a scientist...I'd invent something useful, like, Batman's anti-shark spray.

If I was a farmer...I'd still be pissed about Daylight Savings Time.

If I was a musician...I'd get my picture on the cover of The Rolling Stone.

If I was a doctor...I'd model all my behavior after Dr. Cox from Scrubs.

If I was a painter...I'd want to collaborate with SHAG.

If I was a gardener...I'd be one of those boring people with a green thumb who are way too excited by plants.

If I was a missionary...I'd probably 'go native' where ever I was sent and end up fighting Indiana Jones on a rope bridge over a crocodile infested river.

If I was a chef...I'd be famous for JOSH'S SIXGUN BEE-STING HALLUCINOGENIC DEAD-BY-MORNING CHILI

If I was an architect...I don't know, people would always be impressed when I told them what I did for a living, I guess.

If I was a linguist...Marcie already used the best joke here, so moving on...

If I was a psychologist...Could I prescribe Zoloft for myself?...

If I was a librarian...I'd buy a pair of those Not Sexy But Sexy Librarian Glasses to wear.

If I was an athelete...I'd be pumped full of illegal drugs.

If I was a lawyer...I'd be an ass.

If I was an inn-keeper...I'd be in a fantasy novel and there'd be hobbits and orcs and trolls running around.

If I was a professor...I get tenure and not do shit.

If I was a writer...I'd write the fantasy novel that's rolling around in my mind.

If I was a llama-rider...I'd be one of a kind.

If I was a bonnie pirate...I'd say things like, "Good job, Wesley, I'll most likely kill you in the morning."

If I was an astronaut...I'd wanna go to Mars.

If I was a world famous blogger...If I gave a shit about that kind of stuff, I'd be worried that this quiz wasn't 'important' enough to post or I'd write a long mea culpa about how the blog is draining my life force.

If I was a justice on any one court in the world...it'd be The People's Court.

If I was married to any current political figure...I'd run right out and get involved in a scandal.

We Talk T.V.

1) Who's your favorite daytime talk show host?
Personally, I like those judge shows - like Judge Joe Brown, he's such a hardcase.

2) Late night talk show host?
Jon Stewart.

3) What's your favorite drama?
Lost

4) Comedy?
Scrubs. I also like The Office.

5) Least favorite show or genre?
Makeover shows - Extreme Swan Home Nanny Power Hour Bullshit.

6) Most unlikely show that you like?
CraftCorner Deathmatch on The Style Network. Set your Tivo.

7) Most unlikely show that you thought you'd like but really hate?
None that I hate - I always want to get into Alias - but half way through every episode I get up and do something else - like this quiz.

8) Worst reality show?
Temptation Island.

9) Best T.V. innovation?
The DVR.

10) Who's the hottest person on T.V.?
Evangaline Lilly, from Lost. Although every single female character from Farscape would also get my vote.

11) And who has a face for radio?
Jennifer Garner - I hear she's gonna win the Triple Crown this year.

12) What major news channel, if any, do you watch?
Umm...none. Unless there's a major attack, then CNN.

13) Bill O'Reilly. Thoughts?
Douche Bag.

14) Best Reality Show?
Survivor.

One Love

Describe the following in ONE word:

1) Your father
Funny

2) Your mother
Medea

3) Today.
Odd

4) Your past.
Fucked

5) Your future.
Unwritten

6) Your job.
New

7) Your favorite place.
Various

8) Your last meal.
Chicken

9) Your best friend.
Complex

10) Leave us with One final word.
Bebop

We Use To Be Friends - A Long Time Ago - We Use To Be Friends

Overall, a really nice weekend.
Today, I don't go into work until 2 pm.
Then I have rehearsal at 10:30 pm.
Kinda gives the whole day a weird structure.

A Great Random Story....

...and I don't have time to tell it properly.

Once Upon A Time.....

This is the first morning in a long time that I can remember driving to work and not feeling - doom, defeat, loathing (both for myself and everyone around me), disgust, apathy, impotence, rage, and horror all mixed together. At Foley, I stayed too long - at Lowndes, my stay was cut short - at AmSouth, I never wanted to stay at all (they were just the first people to get back to me). all of those places - it seems so plain, now, that I'm just not the kind of personality that needs to be anywhere near law offices and banks - places like that - I can't be happy and productive - I can't be what they want me to be - and faking just insults everyone. I don't know - I feel like for the first time in a long time that I may have made a correct decision.

Today was fun. I'm sure that I'll be able to pick up everything pretty quick. Yes, I still need to find another part time job - moneywise, that's at the top of my list. But, I don't know, I feel like instead of fighting within a system that's bound to grind me up - that I'm somehow moving ahead, moving on, and I'm not worried. I'm having this moment where I just feel like things are gonna play out nicely - maybe not easily or cleanly - but, I don't know, it's like I can at least see pathways and outcomes and branches and I want to enjoy this sense of vision. This is pretty rare for me - usually it's all black, no light, fuck - no tunnel, even.

Maybe this sense of vision is because of my air conditioning.

Yesterday, I had lunch with Sarah, drove out to meet her, had lunch, got back in my car, drove home - suddenly, I realize something is fucking wrong, I'm hot, I'm sweating -- oh, silly, the AC is off -- {flip the switch} -- nothing. Nothing. No cool air. No luke warm air. No hot air. Hmmm. What the fuck? Why? Working fine this morning. Yesterday was hot as Hell (which is still about 20 degrees cooler than Orlando in, say, July or August - during those months I won't even have enough saliva in my parched mouth to pronounce the evil names of those months) Get home, call Dad, mess with fuses. Still nothing. Call Kevin, he calls back with some advice, check out the stuff he says to check out, belts, fuses again - nothing. Fuck. Fuck me. Why? Realize I'm going to have to take the car to a mechanic and be fucked hard up the ass, with only my blood and tears as lubrication - I do what I always do - rage around the house for a few, uncontrollable Hulk-like moments -FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK - then, I calm down, breath, and make peace with the fucker, 'This is your lot, you ass, what were you going to spend money on anyway, comic books? Starbucks? Boo fucking hoo.'

And later that night, when I went to rehearsal -- my air conditioning worked again. Just like that. It's fine/It's broken/It's fine again. No reason. Maybe messing with the fuses worked. Maybe. Maybe in the future, I'm a time traveler slash mechanic and I came back to yesterday to correct this horrible mistake. Maybe Odin and Kali and Coyote and Marie Laveau and King Leonidas and Steve McQueen formed a Super Hero Group in the AfterLife and decided to help me turn The Wheel a little. Maybe yesterday I changed Coke to Pepsi. I don't know. Maybe any second, it could all fall apart again. Don't know.

But you've got to smile and try and enjoy such a bloodless victory.

Yesterday and evey idiotic day before it is dead. Good-bye and good luck. Tomorrow, hell, a few hours from now is unformed. Worrying about it now won't give it shape So, right now, I'm going to attempt to just be content with this second, this time, this moment.

{You may feel free to picture a cat hanging from a tree limb. I just did, anyway.}

Enter Sandman

Here's another of my random, strange dreams:

In this dream, Steve Schneider had this videotape he wanted me to see. On the videotape was a little monkey, doing little monkey-type stuff around the downtown AmSouth building's parking garage. We were both very excited about this tape. In the dream it seemed very important and ground breaking. Then there was a nice, dream scene change -- and suddenly I'm standing in a public restroom, at a urinal, barefoot. And behind me, at the sinks, there's a black guy making fun of a retarded guy. Finally, after thinking: why am I in this bathroom with no shoes on? -- I turn around and say, "Okay, you've had your fun. Leave him alone now." And the black guy walks up to me and he's wearing one red boxing glove -- and he places the boxing glove on my chest -- he does this very slowly, as if to say, "And what the fuck are you going to do about it?". And right before the dream ends, I have one of those flashes of quick dream-logic that lets me know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I have been set up.