Pretend I wrote something clever here

Last night I went to the gym considerably later than normal. I usually come home, grab a bite, and hit the gym around 7 or so. Last night I didn't get there until 9. Little did I know that the hotties come out at night. Seriously, there was so much eye candy, my workout flew by. And redheads. There were several really hot redheads.

That's the strange thing about my neighborhood. It's hopping at night. Restaurants are always packed with people at 10 or 11 p.m. Even during the week.

Ah well, considering the number of OTB Europeans, I suppose it's no surprise. But it makes me feel tired just thinking about it.

That being said however, my new workout time is officially 9 p.m.

And speaking of douchebags . . .

I have recently returned from a trip to Jesusland where I attended my high school reunion. Twenty years on and the popular assholes are still assholes, they're just fatter and wrinkly. On the flip side, the ones who were put upon and made fun of are really blossoming. I spent the evening talking to a girl who I was in band with. She is now a chef, looks stunning and is married to a comedian/writer who has an Emmy and is about to get his own series on Comedy Central.

It was one of those karmic victories.

I hope every single one of those bitches who were mean to her back in high school were eating their hearts out. Though she did seem pleased that one of the girls actually apologized for the way she treated her.

While it would have been nice if one or two of the people who made my life miserable back then had apologized to me, I will simply take comfort in the knowledge that I have a pretty fucking amazing life.

In Vino Douchebagitas

Or as we say in English, "In wine, douchebaggery."

Sometimes, while drinking, I say things I come to regret later (or even instantly). And when I examine the situations leading up to saying something I regret, invariably, I find I have only you, my reading public, to blame.

For why were you not at the bar keeping me from drinking? Why did you not nudge me under the table and say "Dude, shut the fuck up."? Indeed, why were you not there?

"Oh," I hear you say, "I have a job and can't watch over you 24/7." "Oh," you whine, "I live across a continent/ocean." "Oh, I only read your blog every month or two."

Feh! That's right, I said "Feh!" You only make excuses because you know, deep in your heart of hearts, that I'm right.

Well, at least I can sleep easy knowing that I was not being an asshole this evening; you were allowing me to be an asshole by your negligence.

You should be ashamed of yourselves.

Pet Peeve

The following words are not interchangeable:

Blond and blonde
Brunet and brunette
Masseur and masseuse

and I'm sure I'm out of fashion with this one:

Actor and actress

Well, that's it for today.

Another meme

From Rick:

Things always in my backpack:
1. Notebook and pen
2. Umbrella
3. Checkbook
4. Business cards
5. Cell phone

Things in my wallet:
1. Receipts
2. Credit cards
3. Book/play/article ideas I've scribble on scrap paper and don't want to lose
4. Driver’s License
5. Money

Things in my fridge:
1. Hard cider
2. Jell-O
3. Apples
4. Milk
5. Two cartons of eggs that expired in May

Things in my closet:
1. My skinny clothes
2. Guest bed
3. Rugby gear
4. Ugly shoes
5. Rugs

Things in my car:
Well, my car is a subway so here goes
1. Street people
2. Fast food remains
3. Unidentifiable odors
4. People with iPods
5. Attitude

Things on my desk:
1. Monitor
2. Books
3. Pens
4. CDs
5. Broadway Bares program

Affirmations

This morning on my way into work, I ran into a co-worker. We chatted about the (horrible, disgusting) weather and she mentioned that she had an affirmation that she uses on days like this "the weather is like a hug." In effect, making something positive out of a hot, humid negative.

That led me to think that I need an affirmation. I started with "Adversity leads to growth." But that sounded too Dr. Phil.

That's when I came up with "I am a strong, black woman and ain't nobody gonna keep me down!"

That was followed by a giggle fit in the (very crowded) elevator.

Five Questions

A while back, RcktMan Rick asked me five interview questions. I'm finally getting around to answering them. You can all stop holding your breath now.

Rick is a pretty amazing guy. I wish I knew some way to ease the pain he's going through now, but the best I can do is say that he is in my thoughts. And in a break from my usual style, I'm going to try to answer these honestly as possible. I may even manage not to sound whiny or glib.

1. In one of your recent posts, you talk about being hit on at a bar, and then you list the requirements for someone to date you. All kidding aside (as I am quite sure you weren't serious when you wrote that, because in my cynical mind, I think a lot of the same things about myself), what are the REAL things that you hope for in a dating relationship?

Yep. Clearly the list was a joke, born out of all the bad relationships (real and imagined) that I've had in the past. More than anything, I just want someone who makes me want to be a better person. Not that the guy wants or needs me to be different, but that I love him so much and am so secure in our relationship that I can let go of all the baggage that I've been carrying around for so long and can be myself, whoever that may turn out to be. My great fear is that I won't find a person like that, or worse, that it's some sort of pipe dream that I've created from a steady diet of TV and movies. But I think I've seen it in some of the couples I know.

I'd also like someone who has some of the same interests I do, but different ones, too. And that he enjoys teaching me about the things he loves that I've never experienced as much as he enjoys learning from me.

And maybe someone adventurous. Not sky-diving adventurous necessarily, but more adventurous than me. Someone who would push me beyond my comfort zone and help me grow.

2. You mentioned in another post that you have dreams where you are visited by your late grandfather. I have had similar dreams as well, only they are with my grandmother. I visit her in her second to last apartment (the one I liked the best) and we just sit and talk, although I can never remember what we talk about when I wake up. What would you like to talk to your grandfather about, and why do you think he wants to talk to you?

It may sound odd, but it's not really about talking to my grandpa. It's about being around him. He gave the best hugs in the world. He's been gone for twenty years now, but I can still feel them, as though he were still here. They felt like safety and unconditional love and comfort and everything good in the world. A part of me hopes that heaven is simply that, a hug from my grandpa.

As for what he wants to talk to me about, or why I've been dreaming of him, I don't know. Could it be him (or my subconscious using him as a symbol) telling me to calm down and not worry about things in my life? Possibly. Whatever it is, I take some comfort in seeing him, even if it's just in a dream.

3. You're in the middle of a pretty intense job search right now. I feel your pain about your current job, because I have felt extremely under-appreciated for the last few years but I simply HATE the thought of having to update (in this case, re-write) my resume, hunt for job openings, and pound the pavement looking for something better. What are the three top requirements you have for a new position, and why would they help you choose whether or not the company is right for you?

Well, that has hopefully become a moot point with my decision to return to grad school. But assuming it hadn't, the main thing for me at this point is that the job be in theatre or the arts. I am so sick of working for a soulless corporation. It would be a lot less money and a lot more work, but I would love to feel passionate about my job for a change.

So, quick answer: 1) in the arts, 2) makes me feel passionate, 3) good people.

In the arts because that's my background. Makes me feel passionate because life is too short to spend 8-10 hours a day feeling miserable. And good people because I want and need to be surrounded by people like that.

4. Your blog name, Crash and Byrne, seems to be the running theme throughout your blog persona. Do you really feel that life is full of 'Crashing' and 'Burning'? How do you rebuild yourself after a 'Crash and Burn' episode?

Crash and Byrne is not something that I put much conscious thought into. Clearly, it's a pun on my name, but really, it was the only thing I could think of. Well, I could have chosen Byrne, Baby, Byrne. But that hated song has been dogging me since elementary school, so it wasn't really an option.

When forced to examine the idea of crashing and burning, though, I suppose you could say it's one of my big fears. Failure. Embarrassment. Feeling ridiculous. Taking a risk and having it blow up in my face. It's paralyzing most of the time. That's why I think I've been in a holding pattern for the last decade, doing as little as possible, taking as few risks as possible, trying to be invisible. In ten years, the only daring thing I did was start playing rugby and even that tanked, mostly through self-sabotage. Whenever a play starts going well, I quit writing it. Or if I do finish one and send it out, the first rejection I get ruins it for me and sends me into a spiral of self-loathing. It's really fucked up.

And based on past experience, I don't really do well after a true crash and burn episode. I'm still really fucked up over a relationship that I had in college. There are things I refuse to do because someone at some time made fun of me for doing them. I live in dread fear of being talked about or laughed at. Normal people move past these things. I wish to God I knew how to.

5. Your use of sarcasm makes me giggle like a schoolgirl. I fully believe that sarcasm is our friend. Do you subscribe to that notion?

Sarcasm and humor are our friends, however they can also be defense mechanisms. It's either make them laugh at someone else so they won't hurt you, or hurt yourself so they don't get to draw first blood. The problem for me is turning it off. Not just when I direct it at my friends and hurt them when I don't mean to, but the constant barrage of sarcastic comments that I throw at myself.

To make an odd and kinda gay analogy, humor for me is The Great and Mighty Oz. Usually I use it when I don't want people to look at the frail old man cowering behind the curtain.

-Fin-

And there we have it. Five questions answered. And, my, oh my, didn't it turn a little dark there toward the end? I think I avoided whiny and glib, but it seemed to have landed me smack dab in the briar patch of my mind. Well, what the hell, those of you who know me probably realize I'm a little fucked up. Those of you who don't . . . feh, what do you care?

Rick, I hope this was what you had in mind. I bet you're sorry you didn't ask the "what kind of tree would you be" question.

Anyway, since this is a meme, I am posting the rules. If you'd like to be interviewed, here's what you do.

So now it's your turn: here are the rules!

If you wish to participate, leave a comment saying, 'interview me'.

I will ask you five questions - totally different from the ones I was asked.

You update your journal or blog with the answers to the questions.

You include this explanation of the rules and an offer to interview others in the same post.

When others comment asking to be interviewed, you ask them five new questions.

Grad School

Things I will have to do in order to apply for Ph.D. programs:

1) Take the fucking GRE again. Probably next month, which means I need a refresher soon. Luckily, I aced the test last time . . . of course that was 16 or so years ago.

2) Get letters of recommendation from two professors to whom I haven't spoken in a decade. Naturally, the person who is most qualified to write a letter on my behalf died in 2004.

3) Prepare a writing sample. Of course, they want scholarly writing and a rather substantial amount. So I can't use any of my plays (creative writing) or any of my theater reviews (too short and not scholarly). The last paper like this that I wrote was a history of swimwear. It sucked. I have no clue what I'm going to do about this.

I'm a little freaked right now.

Pop Quiz

Pick up your pens and open your blue books. This essay will count for one fourth of your semester grade.

Essay topic: Crash, fed up with the job search and dealing with all the bullshit at work, has decided to start applying for Ph.D programs. Is he insane? Be sure to use examples to justify your opinion (good starting points are the fact that students can't afford to pay rent and his rapidly advancing age).

Okay. At first, I just started looking into local Ph.D programs as sort of a 'one of these days I'll go back'. Then I couldn't come up with a decent reason not to do it now. I mean, if I apply now, I won't be starting until Fall 2007 anyway. And when I bounced the idea off my folks, they were really excited.

Is this really something I can do? I am terrified by change.

And, on a different note, a while back Rick posted some questions for me to answer. Then he went of vacation, so I held off answering. Those of you who read his blog (and you all should, he's a good writer) know what happened next. As you can imagine, I haven't felt that I should hurry and answer his questions. Now that he's back, I will. I'll post them tomorrow.

Confidential to Palochi

Palochi, I just found this online dating site, but I couldn't find your profile. I ran searches for ones containing "Starbuck" and "Crichton", but no luck.

For those of you who are free tomorrow

Really busy

I've been freakishly busy lately, but I will try to do some blogging soon.

In the meantime, here is a funny thing. I saw a job listing today seeking a "jack-off-all-trades."

I would totally apply if it were a job for a "jack-off-all-trades-as-long-as-they're-reasonably-attractive."

AVP March Addendum

Amusingly, there is a photo from the march with me in it on Towleroad. Probably the one and only time I'll ever be on it. An A-Lister I am not.

Weekend

Turns out it was a really good weekend.

I met up with FARB and his boys after work on Friday. I was just meeting them to pick up some samplers featuring his new novel, but I wound up staying for a couple of hours. It was great. Left to my own devices, I tend to be a hermit, and it was really nice to have some interaction.

Plus I had a guy hit on me, which is always a nice ego boost. However, as is typical, as soon as someone shows the slightest interest in me, I get hit with a feeling akin to the old Groucho Marx line "I'd never join a country club that would have someone like me as a member." So basically, I'd never date anyone who would date someone like me.

As a brief aside, if you would like to date me, here is the best way to approach it, based on what seems to have attracted me to guys in the past: Be completely aloof and disdainful; Give me just enough hope that there might be a future for us that I'll be willing to pay for everything; Tell me you love me when no one is around, but treat me like shit in public; Tell me you'd totally be into me if I weren't _____ [fill in the blank with something cruel and personal, and come up with something new each time you say it]; Tell me that you're not into me, but show up at my place everytime you're drunk and need to get off.

So, long story short, if you treat me with kindness or tell me you like me, you can expect me to disappear with a little puff of dust like a Warner Brothers character.

So where was I?

After a fun happy hour(s), I headed back to watch the Doctor Who marathon on the SciFi channel. I tell you, I'm just a hair's-breadth away from turning into one of those guys who dresses up as a scifi character and goes to Cons.

Maybe for the next one I can dress up like D'Argo. Palochi, do you still have your Chiana costume?

So Saturday I went to the AVP march and rally. Good, though I really expected more people. Three gay bashings in one week? I would have thought this would make people angry. I guess not. At least I got to hang out with Jase and Charles.

After the rally, I went to work for the rest of the day. Weekends are the only time I can work without constant interruptions.

Sunday was all about cooking and cleaning. Then I went to the midnight performance of Broadway Bares, which was great. Once again, I saw Jase and Charles. I heard Matt and Kevin were there, too, but I didn't see them. I also ran into Patrick and Karen as they were leaving the earlier performance. Bares was fantastic (even better than last year's) and the special guests (Cyndi Lauper, Alan Cumming, Fran Drescher . . . um . . . and others). It was a great time with lots of hot men and women, all in various stages of undress. And they had rocking bodies. I would absolutely love to date a dancer. But, you know, only if he treats me badly. I do have my standards, after all.

Anti-Violence March

The NYC Gay and Lesbian Anti-Violence Project will be holding a march and rally tomorrow to protest the recent attacks in the East Village and Astoria.

People will be meeting at 2 p.m. at 14th and 1st Ave. I hope I'll see some of you there.

Pride Dance

If any of you New York bloggers are interested in attending the Pride Dance on the Pier on the 25th, but don't want to spend the money for tickets, I'm looking for some volunteers to help staff one of the bars at the event.

If you're interested, drop me a line.

Job search

I applied for two jobs in the last two days (I'm working on the assumption that the bad interview I mentioned previously pretty much scuttled that job). I would be great for both of them, but I'm concerned that neither one will be able to get near my current salary.

But then, nothing ventured, nothing gained.

I have 9 more job openings to apply for (and two or three more that I identified, but haven't researched yet).

Keep your fingers crossed.

Off to a good start

Which is worse?

1. Singing to myself while waiting for an elevator and getting caught?

2. Singing to myself while waiting for an elevator and getting caught by a really cute guy?

3. Singing '. . . Baby One More Time' by Britney Spears to myself while waiting for an elevator and getting caught by a really cute guy?

This is why I never get laid.

Well, okay, it's one of many reasons.

At least I wasn't doing choreography.

It's the little things

So last night was the awards event that our company does every year (though it appears this will be the last one . . . but that's another story). My boss got up there to begin his comments and started by thanking all the people that helped put the event together.

Well, all but one of the people who put the event together.

I'm sure you see where this is going.

Dude, where's my liver?

Tonight is the first official night of GB:NYIII (or GB:NY Trinity or GB:NY Electric Boogaloo or GB:NY Return of the Muppet on Crack).

Anyhoo.

Barrage, 47th and 9th Ave., 7-ish. Should be fun. I imagine there will be some drinking and some nudity involved.

It just keeps getting better and better . . .

Today I found out that my office has approved a raise for me. This should, I imagine, bring my salary more in line with the others who do my job, even though I also imagine it won't take into account the fact that I've been doing this job for nearly a decade and due to my experience should be making more than the others.

Okay, fine, whatever.

But here's the fun part. The only reason I found out that I'd been approved for a raise is that my boss let me know that it had been frozen indefinitely while my department goes through a shakeup.

As soon as I get an offer, I'm out of here.

Bingham Cup II

There is a really good article about the cup (with photos) at Outsports. Also, my friend Stuff, who's in China right now, said there was a news report on TV over there. Weird, no?

Bingham Cup

I'm sunburnt and thoroughly exhausted, but I had a great weekend. While Gotham didn't do as well as I'd hoped, they played hard and are much stronger as a team. Now we just have to start working toward winning Bingham 2008. At least the SF Fog didn't win; the Sydney Convicts did. Since they were rather attractive and friendly, I'm okay with that.

The various events were okay, though extremely expensive ($9 for a mixed drink?!?!). Needless to say, I'll be conserving my money for a while.

The closing night party at Webster Hall was a lot of fun; I even danced, which I rarely ever do.

Now it's time to start getting in shape for the fall season. Come hell or high water, I plan on playing.

I'm stuck here forever

So after three really good interviews at the new company, the last, and sadly most crucial, had me basically looking like a glorified secretary. It's a bad start when the guy who is interviewing you, and who is the one who will ultimately decide if you get hired, starts by saying, "I want an attorney in this position, why should I give it to you instead?"

I can do my job. I'm really good at my job. I've won awards for doing my job. So why in the fuck can't I seem to explain why I'm good at my job?

If I can hold on through the night . . .

Last night I watched the first half of The Poseidon Adventure, killing time while waiting for Lost to start.

I realized that I am turning into Red Button's character, Mr. Martin: alone, odd, fussy (though, God willing, I will never wear a cravat). Granted, I'm built more like Ernest Borgnine or Shelly Winters, but in the water, I'm a very skinny lady.

P.S. Did anyone else think that Roddy McDowall looked kinda hot in that movie? No? Okay, it was just me, I guess.

Hog Heaven

This weekend not only features the Bingham Cup Rugby Tournament (which, alas, I am not competing in . . . didn't make the cut this year) but it also is the first weekend of Fleet Week.

Six hundred gay rugby players, probably an equal number of closeted sailors, and I still probably won't get laid.

Maybe I should just go to seminary.

What's the word I'm looking for . . . ?

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

And that, gentle readers, is my day in a nutshell.

Rugby

Last night I remembered why I like to play rugby. Very few things feel better than grabbing some guy around the thighs and smashing him into the mud. Since this was only my third practice this season and I haven't played any games in quite a while, I haven't done any tackling in a long time. It's physically demanding. It hurts. But, God in heaven, it rocks.

After last night's practice, I was bleeding, bruised and dirty. I was also exhausted from all the running. But I felt good. Elated. After I showered and put ointment on my cuts (the soil on Randall's Island is basically half toxic mud and half goose shit), I felt the best I have in a long time.

I also slept better last night than I have in months.

Granted, when I woke up this morning, I felt like I'd been run over by a truck. My right knee doesn't seem to want to bend. I have a welt on my thigh that is turning all sorts of interesting colors. My legs are scraped up. My shoulder is red and tender. My biceps just plain hurt. And my back has more knots than an Afgan rug. But despite all that (and maybe because of it), I still feel great.

I have a lot of training to do before fall season, but for the first time in a while, I'm really looking forward to it.

I Kind of Miss the Zombies

As has been mentioned on these pages (screens?) numerous times, when my mind is in turmoil, I have zombie dreams.

Well, that seems to have changed. Recently, I've started getting visits from my dead grandfather. I'm not sure what the dreams mean or even what has been happening in them. Like a light frost at daybreak, these dreams melt away once I begin to wake up. All I'm left with is a sense of longing and an undercurrent of dread.

Recently death seems to be playing a big part of my dreams. I wish I knew what was up with that.

Spell Check, stat!

From the New York Times online edition (I won't link since they'll probably fix it quickly):

U.S. Restores Dimplomatic Ties to Libya
By JOHN O'NEIL
Published: May 15, 2006

Dimplomacy - The art or practice of conducting international relations, as in negotiating alliances, treaties, and agreements, using nothing but a cute smile.

Empty Wallet

I discovered a Michael's, Home Depot, Staples and Best Buy all within walking distance (a bit of a hike, but not too bad) of my apartment. Between this discovery and the fact that I spent the weekend cleaning and organizing, my apartment is starting to look pretty good.

I also took some art to a framing store so I'll actually have something on the walls soon.

Soon I may even start having people over for dinner or movies.

Well, baby steps.

So f*cking tired

I'm so tired. I can't seem to fall asleep. I'm swamped at work. I've got a bunch of reviews to write. I've got a bunch of other writing to do.

Arrggh.

I need a vacation.

In the news

The Associated Press had an article about Lewis, a cat that has been terrorizing its neighbors.

Here is some of the text:

The neighbors said Lewis' long claws, along with catlike stealth, have allowed the cat to attack at least a half dozen people and ambush the Avon lady as she was getting out of her car.

Catlike? It's not catlike . . . it's a cat. Does no one use the word 'feline' any more?

Worse than death

There are few things worse than a family funeral. Well, clearly there are lots of things worse . . . vivisection, genocide, sleeping with Donald Rumsfeld, to name but a few.

I suppose the best thing to say is family funerals suck. Big time.

For me, it's less about the deceased - they're beyond mortal concerns, in a better place, blah, blah, blah - it's about seeing people I love in pain. When my grandmother passed away a couple of years ago, it was the only time I can remember seeing my dad lose it. We are not an extremely demonstrative family, so when I say 'lose it,' I'm not talking about gnashing of teeth and rending of garments. He just couldn't speak. And he cried, which I had never seen.

Recently, I went to another funeral and this time it was my mom who was grieving. Seeing her cry feels like being cut by razor blades or splashed with acid. It's so unexpected and alien. Deep down inside, there's a part of me that is still a little kid who thinks his parents are invincible. It's always a shock to be reminded that they aren't.

And of course, there is the ever-present reminder that someday (God willing not for a long, long time), I will be standing by the coffin of someone I love, someone who should have been invincible. And when I think of that, I'm struck with a dread, paralyzing fear. And following right behind that feeling is the greater fear that when I'm the one in the coffin, there will be no one standing next to it, mourning me.

The History Boys

I saw the new Alan Bennett play last night. Wonderful. Fantastic cast, great story, terrific production.

Ouch

I went to rugby practice for the first time in well over a year. Needless to say, I was really sore this weekend. Really, really sore.

Man, I am out of shape.

Scary movie

The other day I was in the mood to be cheered up, so I went to see Scary Movie 4. I figured the first ones were okay (with each getting progressively worse, though), so this one would probably be okay, too.

Man, this movie was twelve different kinds of awful.

Anyway, save yourself the money and wait until the DVD comes out. Then don't rent it.

Oh, the weather outside was frightful . . .

But my day was so delightful.

Interview: Aced it.
Charity Event: Wonderful.

Good food. Good wine (really, really good wine). Good company. Got to meet and talk to Anthony Rapp. Saw Patrick in administrative mode. Saw FARB sober. Frankly, it was like being in Wonderland.

So to make up for my fun time yesterday, I overslept this morning and was an hour late to a breakfast meeting.

As the philosopher once said, "D'oh!"

WTF?

It's snowing. Why is it snowing?

In other news, I have another job interview. With any luck, I'll have to choose between the two jobs. On the down side, if I don't get offered either of them, I can pretty much be assured a spiral of depression and self-loathing.

Either way, it's something to look forward to.

Oops

I just sent an e-mail to the HR Director in my company. Since I was trying to find out the number of employees, I wrote "Head Count" in the subject line.

Only I seem to have missed the letter "o".

Thank God for spell check. I think she would have been pissed.

Where to start?

Let's see. Palochi was in town. My liver hasn't quite recovered. I've seen what seems like a bazillion plays and have reviewed many of them for the two review websites I submit to. Last night I saw Red Light Winter with David; very cool, both in terms of the play and the company. I have a job interview next week; the salary is around $10,000 more than what I make now for the exact same job.

Good times.

No, seriously

Pillow. Smother. Now.

I'm actually okay if I keep standing. If I sit for more than a few minutes, I sort of lock in place and have a really hard time standing up.

This blows.

Ouch

Threw my back out this weekend. In a great deal of pain. I used up the last of my muscle relaxers from last time. Crap.

If anyone wants to come over and smother me with a pillow, I'd appreciate it.

You like me!

It appears that I won the Academy Award for best picture last night. As a rule, I tend not to photograph well, so if any of you more technologically-minded youngsters could send me a copy of whatever picture of me it was that won the award, I'd be forever in your debt.

All I need now is a Tony, Grammy and Emmy and I can legitimately call myself the Rita Moreno of my generation.

Mmmm . . . Sloane

Last night English David and I went to see a preview of Joe Orton's Entertaining Mr. Sloane with Alec Baldwin, Chris Carmack, Richard Easton and Jan Maxwell.

Really good, and not just because Carmack is beautiful. The cast was phenomenal, the sets were great, and even though the play is 40 years old, it isn't creaky.

A pet peeve of mine is people who applaud when someone famous makes their entrance. Yes, Alec Baldwin is well-known. But for god's sake, all he did was walk through a door. Save it for the end.

Whee

In what is surely a fit of insanity, I have tickets for six shows this week. One show each on Tues., Wed., and Thurs. and three shows on Saturday. I only have to review three of them.

If anyone wants to be my 'plus one' for any of them, drop me a line.

And now for something completely different

Sorry for yesterday's self-pity post. In a variety of ways, the last couple of weeks have sucked. But as the philosopher says, what doesn't kill us, leaves us in agonizing, soul-crushing pain, screaming for death's sweet embrace.

Anyhoo.

Despite my general bad mood and The Blizzard of Aught Six, I saw two shows this weekend. Well, in point of fact, I had to review them, so I couldn't bail, which is what I really, really wanted to do.

So, the shows were Edenville and Kiss and Cry. Both were good shows (and full of eye candy). Edenville has one of the guys from Dante's Cove, a gay soap opera/supernatural thriller/mini-series thing that was on the Here! on demand channel. The guy was way cuter in person.

Anyway, I think Kiss and Cry was the better show, but both of them were worth checking out. Especially since the tickets are reasonably priced.

Last night I attended WYSIWYG's Worst. Sex. Ever. show which was marvelous, as usual. I'll write a little more about it once I dig out from under the pile of work (and two theatre reviews) that I have to do, but I will leave you with these topics that were covered: underwater cunnilingus performed by Jacques Cousteau; a war between good and evil fought over a vagina; various instances of vomitting on genitalia; and plenty of other stories that make my worst experiences seem okay.

Well, except for the guy I went out with who wanted me to spit in his mouth. That still kind of icks me.

Anyway, more about WYSIWYG later.

St. Hallmark's Day

Nothing like a Hallmark holiday to make your life feel pathetic.

I am so fucking sick of being alone.

A teammate and a friend

If there's another world, he lives in bliss;
If there is none, he made the best of this.
-Robert Burns

Rest in peace, Doug.

Bad Day

It's been a really bad day.

Catch up

So the weekend was fun. I went to Jess and Marc's house. We ate, we drank, we were merry. As always, a fun and relaxing weekend in the 'burbs.

Monday was the NY Nightlife Awards with English David. Fun time. And now I can say that I've seen Elaine Stritch, Eartha Kitt, and Lesley Gore perform live. I also saw Charles Busch and Brian Stokes Mitchell, but I've seen them perform before. I majorly heart Charles Busch.

A couple of stand-out performances were given by A Little Traveling Music (never heard of them, but they were great) and Creation Nation (whom I'd heard of, but never made it over to Ars Nova [I think] to see).

It was a great night.

One other cool thing. So I'm watching last night's Lost and I think to myself, hey, the girl that Sawyer's scamming in his flashback looks familiar. Turns out she's a girl who was in the drama department with me in college. In fact, I was the stage manager for the first play she was in.

Now she gets to make out with Sawyer in Hawaii while I'm stuck in a crappy, drudge job, making out with no one.

Bollocks.

Brokeback to the Future

Really funny.

Light as a feather, stiff as a board

Some friends and I are doing a weight-loss challenge. We each chip in $50; winner clears $300. Woo hoo.

I'm down 9 lbs. so far. Woo hoo, again.

Between the eating right, working out (I got up at 6 a.m. to go to the gym this morning), getting plenty of sleep and drinking gallons of water, I've felt amazing for the last week.

I will admit that having my clothes fit better has perked me up some, too.

And speaking of perking, does anyone else find that they get frisky when they're dieting?

Things You Should Do This Week

Go see two shows before they close.

A Midsummer Night's Dream at Vital Theater on the Upper West Side. Wild, amazing fun. Closes this weekend.

A Myth Cycle: Ahraihsak at Theatre Mitu. Long, but absolutely amzaing show influenced by Asian forms. It uses masks, puppetry, stylized movement and language to tell a story that would have made Joseph Campbell proud. Sublime. Closes this weekend.

Um . . . WTF?

Today I received my online Time Warner bill. It was for $13,567.67.

I think I may drop Showtime and Cinemax.

Sorry

I find that I have nothing to write about.

By the way

My theatre reviewing seem to be going okay. I've had four reviews published and one of my reviews has been blurbed on the show's publicity materials. Woo hoo!

Soon I'll be as famous as . . . um . . . any of those other famous theater reviewers whose names I don't know.

Le sigh.

Speaking of which, if any of you want to join me at a children's theatre show I'm reviewing tomorrow, I'd love the company.

Yeah. I thought not.

So tomorrow, I may blog about my New Year's resolutions.

Yeah, so I'm back

Holidays were fine. In fact, they were actually really great.

Unfortunately, everything has kind of sucked since I got back.

So there you go. Happy 2006.

Bah. Humbug.

Now that the holidays are fully upon us, I'm retreating into my hard, crusty shell (melts in your mouth, not in your hands) and turning my back on my fellow man (there's a joke in there somewhere, but I'm not going to bother looking for it).

Anyhoo, I think I'm done blogging for the year. See you in 2006.



By the way, I've turned on comments moderation since my archives are filling up with spam faster than a Hawaiian who just cashed his paycheck, so if you comment on anything in the next week or two, it might not show up for a while.

I'm turning into my dad

Generally, I like unions. I'm a tree-huggin' lefty who believes that they make sure workers don't get exploited by unfeeling companies.

That being said, TWU Local 100 would have to work pretty damn hard to convince me that they're being exploited. Average salary is $45,000-$68,000 counting overtime (according to the NY Sun). Not damn bad for people who, on average, don't have college degrees. Plus they don't pay for their benefits, get to retire at 55, get full pension after 25 years, and get full medical once they retire.

I have a college degree (three, actually). My salary is slightly above the high range of their average. But I pay for my benefits. I can't retire until I'm 65. And my office has recently cancelled our pensions. And I sure as hell don't get any medical other than Medicare after I retire.

So should I feel sorry for the transit workers? Sorry, ain't gonna happen.

And it doesn't help that their union president is such a cunt. Roger Toussaint pretty much represents the worst that the unions have to offer. He's a little man with a Napoleon complex who is threatening other people's livelihoods and safety in order to get his moment in the spotlight.

Well, thank God for two things: the Taylor laws and my upcoming vacation. With any luck, when Roger throws his hissy and calls a strike, the Taylor laws will smack him down and I'll be enjoying my vacation way the hell away from here.

I always saw myself as Beaker

You are Sam the Eagle.
You are patriotic and devoted. And extremely anal.

HOBBIES:
Patriotism, Being appalled at what everyone else is
doing.
FAVORITE MUSIC:
The National Anthem of America

FAVORITE MOVIE:
"An American In....America"

LAST BOOK READ:
"Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus,
Eagles are from America"

QUOTE:
"Please stop that now! It's un-American!"


What Muppet are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

Things that make you go . . . hmmm

Have you ever noticed that you don't ever see Evill Aaron and Eartha Kitt in the same room at the same time? Three words: Clark, Kent, Superman. That's all I'm saying.

In other news, I'm reviewing a play this weekend and I just found out that a guy I know is in the cast. Jeezum, I hope to God the play doesn't suck.

Berfday

So I'm another year older, but still devastatingly attractive. Well, by BizarroWorld standards.

Anyhoo, today is also a certain Famous Author's birthday. Wish him a happy b-day (not bidet). If you know his e-mail address, that is.

And that's all the posting you'll get from me today. It's a busy work day, then I'm off to see a show tonight (to review it).

Oh, by the way, last night I saw the One Man Star Wars Trilogy. It was hilarious and one of the best nights of theater I've had in a while. It's playing through the end of the month. Go see it.

Earlier this week I saw Thom Pain (based on nothing). Good show. Odd . . . but good. It's worth checking out.

Haikuesday

Birthday's in two days
I'm in the mood for presents
This is what I want:

The God of Biscuits'
Gift for esoterica;
I'll take some of that.

I would also like
A bit of Mark and Brian's
Whimsical nature.

How 'bout a phone call
From Matt's mom with a story
about his childhood?

A touch of Frank's wit
For use in emergencies
Would come in handy.

Bob's sense of humor
Sorry, let's make that 'humour'
Now that he's a Brit.

Jeff's new house, of course,
Would be nice, but how to get
It to Manhattan?

Homer's handiness
With Albert's sense of style would
Brighten up my home

Jase's joie de vivre
Or maybe just his good looks
I could handle that.

Hospitality
Like Jess and Marc, Knottyboy's
Artistic talent

Sardonic humor
From Palochi and maybe
His leather jacket

Brian's hot accent
Or maybe his recipes
Either would be good

Sherry's youth and brains
Faustus and Rob's musical
talent (oh, and David's too)

Speaking of Davids
I'd like his epic drive and
His little dog, too.

But it is enough
Just to have them in my life.
Friends are the best gift.

Note: Yeah, I missed a few of you. Sorry about that, but I'm knackered and it's time for a coffee break. Anyway, I hope you all know how important your friendship is to me, with or without a link in a crappy, but heartfelt, haiku.

Update

This morning I threw my back out. What, pray tell, was I doing at three in the morning that was so strenuous that I threw my back out?

Sleeping.

Yep. I threw my back out sleeping.

I am now officially the world's most out-of-shape person. I fully expect Richard Simmons to come to my house and cut through a wall to get me out with a crane.

Frak.

Anyhoo. Last week I saw three shows. 'Making Marilyn' and 'Rachel' Off-Off Broadway. I wouldn't really recommend either of them. 'Making Marilyn' was kind of interesting, but it didn't really gel. 'Rachel' was abysmal . . . poorly written, poorly directed, poorly acted. Made me want to bitch slap everyone involved.

The other show was 'Souvenir' on Broadway. Cute and funny, but it would have been better as a shorter piece. It didn't merit a full-length treatment.

Other than that, I went out for Korean BBQ with Stuff and friends on Sunday.

The wild times never end in Crashylvania (thanks, Palochi).

One other thing, now that I think about it. I did stay up until three in the morning on Saturday (well, technically it was Sunday) to watch the first snow of the season. It was pretty, but it made walking to church a pain.

We wants it, my precious

You'll note on the right side of this screen, nearly at the bottom, is a link to my Amazon wish list. While I would certainly never be so crass as to ask any of you to buy me anything for my rapidly approaching birthday, you are welcome to browse it to see the odd mix of Broadway, Bel Ami and Blues that I seem to enjoy.

And if, while browsing, you decide to buy something for me . . . well, that's your choice.

Still alive

Sorry I haven't been posting . . . busy, busy, busy.

So here is the last couple of weeks in a nutshell: dim sum, Palochi, two theater reviews published, Gay Expo, two awards ceremonies, trip to mom's, surprise birthday party that was actually a surprise (there's still time to buy me a gift, by the way), Homer exhibit at the Dahesh Museum, Harry Potter (I cried), doing work for my not-for-profits, work, job hunting and TV.

The fun never ends at Crashland.

We deliver f.u.

Why I'm learning to hate the Post Office

1) For the second time, a Netflix DVD hasn't arrived.

2) My postal carrier routinely mutilates my mail putting it in the mailbox.

3) My local post office (which incidentally isn't the nearest post office to where I live . . . go figure) changed its hours to 9-5. Amazingly inconvenient since I work the same hours. That leaves me four hours on Saturday when I can go pick up my packages and oversized mail. Assuming I'm in town.

4) The district manager of my post office says the hours were changed by the local postmaster. The postmaster says they were changed by the district manager.

5) A package that I sent to Zeitzeuge Mark in late October never arrived. And I didn't insure it.

6) A couple of weeks ago, while I was out of town, my mailbox got so full that even my trash-compacter of a postal carrier couldn't crush any more of my mail into it. So he ordered my mail delivery stopped. He didn't leave a note or inform me in any way. Then after a week, he brought all my mail to my place and gave it to my super.

7) They're raising the price of stamps again, instead of raising the price of sending bulk mail.

Why I'm learning to hate UPS

1) They deliver during business hours. Which is when I work.

2) They don't deliver on weekends.

3) If they can't get the package to you they ask you to come pick it up. In Queens, the location is smack dab in the middle of the dead zone with no subways, which means a cab ride on top of the shipping fee. It is also in the middle of the Queens graveyard district, and when the zombies attack, I don't want to be carrying scrapbooking supplies or porn. Um . . . not that I ever order either of those things.

All of these issues would be moot if I still had a doorman. Crap.

An open letter

To the white-trash, goomba, Gotti-wannabe in the huge, silver, tricked-out pickup truck who nearly ran me down in Times Square last night while stuffing a burger in his fat, ugly face.

Fuck you.

Sincerely,
Crash

And I've been cooking

I made chicken breasts with a sherry and shallot sauce the other day. And I made chicken thighs with a sauce of sherry and sauteed artichoke hearts. Yum.

In a Nutshell

I've seen a few plays in the last week.

Cowboy vs. Samurai - Good. A retelling of the Cyrano story by the National Asian American Theater Company.

The Snow Maiden - Children's theater that I reviewed for the online site.

Screwups - Another one I reviewed. Very funny.

Let's see . . . dinner at Jess and Marc's where I got to meet the charming Knottyboy.

Dim sum on Sunday. Hanging out with Jase on Saturday. Laundry. Work.

Patrick is still a great houseguest.

What else? Oh, Lost. How freaking amazing was last week's episode?

Okay. I'm done.

Update

I haven't really felt like blogging lately, so I think I may continue to post less frequently. We'll see.

Last Thursday I saw The Color Purple, the new musical. I really enjoyed it. Good songs, wonderful acting, beautiful sets. All in all, I think it will do well.

Friday I went to see The Great American Trailer Park Musical again. Cast album comes out soon, woo hoo! It's a wonderfully funny show and I highly recommend it.

Saturday I went out with Stuff and Patrick to Pegasus on the east side. Fun time, though one of us had a little too much to drink. I won't name names, but it rhymes with hat trick. And yet, he was up and about the next day for work. Good man.

Sunday was brunch day for Stuff and me. We went to Heidelberg, a German place (naturally) on the UES. Fantastic. Fresh potato salad, sauerkraut and bratwurst. Plus a marvellous Schwarzwaelder Kirsch torte and one of the best cups of coffee I'd had in a while. Yum.

Other than all that, I just caught up on Netflix (I watched the second disk of the first season of Six Feet Under and the first disc of a show called Desperate Housewives, which you've probably never heard of). I also saw an episode of a British sitcom starring Alan Cumming as a gay flight attendant on Here OnDemand. It was horrible; now I understand why Rob Byrnes has such a passionate dislike of the man.

And did I mention that Patrick makes a mean chicken enchilada? Well he does.

My other accomplishment for the weekend was finally unpacking and putting up some of my art and knick-knacks. Starting to look like a real home, my place is. I suppose I'll have to move soon.

Last thing, I'll be reviewing my first show for the online review site this Saturday. Woo hoo!

The student loans were worth it

Well, I just got a gig writing theater reviews for an online site (I wrote about submitting an article a while ago). I refuse to let myself get too excited about this since I'm always expecting the other shoe to drop, but I am a little happy. Nice to know these theater degrees will get to be put to use.

By the way, I am totally open to hot, young directors and actors who want to sleep with me in order to get a good review.

I like me! Right now I really like me!

As part of the new HR/benefits program designed by a bunch of consultants who've probably never worked at a real job in their entire lives, we are now required to write a self-evaluation of our work for the current year.

I was thinking of going the humble route, but fuck that. It occurs to me that my job gets steadily more complex and my pay remains maddeningly the same. So I'm about to write the most pro-me thing I've ever written.

But just to be on the safe side, I think I won't mention my ability to put up with bullshit, navel-gazing, burdensome administrative requirements that have nothing to do with my actual day-to-day job.

Wise move?

What kind of bullshit do you have to put up with in your job?

UPDATE: So do you think I'll get extra points for the sarcasm and pointed digs about how some employees who make more money are held to much lower standards than the rest of us? Or maybe the part where I said that no one has ever bothered to define what the expectations of my job are? This is probably not going to be a fun review.

Rainy Days and Weekdays Always Get Me Down

I've been feeling low recently. Not my mood, which thanks to my lodger, Patrick, has been remarkably buoyant (I'd forgotten how nice it is just to have someone to talk to at the end of the day).

But for whatever reason, the weather, work, etc., I've been feeling so damn tired. Just worn out. All I want to do after work is sit on the sofa and watch TV or go to bed. And it takes everything I can muster to get out of bed in the morning. My arms and legs feel like lead and there are times I wonder if I can make it up the stairs at the end of the day.

This might make sense if I were a laborer of some sort, but I'm a desk jockey.

Anyway, hopefully the weather will change and I'll start feeling better.

My dare/goal/pledge/whatever has been shot to shit. I haven't done anything since last week. But I had a pretty good run, so I'm still coming out of this ahead. Now I just need to get back in the groove.

Last night I watched Another Country (which was based on a play, so maybe that should count for the dare . . . ). Cary Elwes, while certainly still a looker, was so beautiful in that movie (he was 21 or 22 when it was filmed). After that, I watched the first couple of episodes of Six Feet Under.

I'm loving Netflix. Tonight will probably be more SFU and Yossi and Jagger. Then, I start my Buffy/Six Feet Under/Desperate Housewives marathon. Woo hoo!

Haikuesday

Haikuesday again
Funny, no word from these guys
Up to me, I guess

But I am tired
Inspiration escapes me
I need a long nap

Day 20: Beeeoooowuuuuulf!!!!!

In one of Mike's posts a couple of months back, he mentions seeing 'Thrill Me', a musical based on Leopold and Loeb. He says that during a song about how to handle an interrogation, he had the urge to sing 'When Velma takes the stand'. Well, I had a moment like that last night at 'Beowulf' at the Irish Repertory Theater.

Billed as a 'rock opera', the show was entirely sung. During one of the scenes, the Danes are singing praises to Beowulf and keep singing his name Beeeoooo-wuuuuulf which is then followed by a pause and the singing starts up again.

During the pause I said to myself 'Superstar' and had a giggle fit. Because it worked perfectly. Beowulf Superstar, do you think you're who they say you are.

At that point, the show was effectively over for me.

So rather than write a review, because the reviews I've read pretty much nail the shows problems, I submit this in the spirit of Gerard Alessandrini and Forbidden Broadway.

To the tune of 'Superstar' from 'Jesus Christ Superstar'

Ever since the lights went down I don't understand
How you let this threadbare show get so out of hand.
You'd have managed better if you'd had a plan.
Why'd you choose an epic poem set in such a strange land?
The audience today just wants a mental vacation.
Trying to be deep will only lead to mass frustration.

Boy, you got it wrong.
I've got to tell you so.

Beowulf, Superstar,
What kind of show do you think you are?
Beowulf, Superstar
Medieval rock opera's too bizarre.

Stole some Andrew Lloyd when you were writing this show
Julie Taymor, Bunraku and Japanese No
Martial arts and Riverdance to all our chagrin.
All the periods and cultures, even Brantley's head would spin.
Did you mean this show to tank? Was that a mistake, or
Did you think this bad pastiche could be a record breaker?

Boy, you got it wrong
I've got to tell you so.

Beowulf, Superstar
What kind of show do you think you are?
Beowulf, Superstar
Stole from your peers but it's still subpar.

Okay, I'm not exactly ready to be submitting my stuff to Forbidden Broadway, but it was fun to write.

And in the spirit of saying something nice about the show, I point out two good things. First, there is a scene where a puppet dragon walks through the audience to fight the heroes on the stage. It was a wonderful effect. Second, the guy playing Beowulf was cute and had a really nice voice.

Day 19

Best laid plans, et cetera.

Anyway, tonight I'm getting back on track by seeing Beowulf at the Irish Repertory Theater. Today's New York Times review referred to it as "abysmal".

So who wants my extra ticket?

Great Night (Day 18)

Day 18 - did nothing, but I will be back on track today, come hell or high water.

Although I did no writing, etc., last night, it was a 'good for my soul and sanity' night. I started with a cocktail party (sponsored by Drambuie) at a club in the Village. I met up with Mike and his roommate and had a really nice time. Good conversationalists, those two.

Afterwards, I went to Barrage to meet up with some of the other blogger boys (and girls) to enjoy the company of Bob, who was in town for a couple of days. It was just the tonic I needed for my recent bad mood. It was a funny, chatty, boozy, grabby, silly evening and I had a terrific time.

Then back home with my houseguest and I called it a night.

Today I awoke feeling happy and refreshed (and a little hungover, but it was totally worth it). But I'm sure after a few hours of work, I'll be back to my usual grumpy self.

Giggle

Australia says no to chicken choking for children.

Day 17

Didn't do a goddamn thing. I was too busy putting in an 11-hour day at work and then doing some cleaning around the house in order to convince my houseguest that I'm not really a huge slob.

I've got stuff going on tonight as well, so I may not be back on track with the theater stuff until Wednesday.

Haikuesday

Okay fine.

D.S.T.

Christ on a cracker!
How can it possibly be?
The year will end soon.

How? Where has it gone?
Time flies when you're having fun.
Wait. Did I have fun?

Just the same old thing,
Day after day of work and
Night after night, too.

My mind in the past,
Future, or what might have been
Anywhere but now

No wonder time flew
Underappreciated
Leaving me alone

So now a challenge:
Live in the moment, aware
That time is fleeting.

Days 14-16

Didn't do as much as I'd hoped. I did a little writing on Friday, just working on a scene that was stuck in my head rather than working on one of my ongoing plays. Saturday was a busy day (dim sum, a tech expo, dinner and a movie with some of the bloggers and pals) but I did manage to read A Lesson Before Dying by Romulus Linney. Good play, but I wish I'd seen it staged.

Sunday . . . well, technically I didn't do anything that counted under the dare, but I was trying desperately to get the apartment somewhat habitable for my guest who will be arriving tomorrow. Those of you who know me know that I'm basically the lost Collyer brother. So I'm trying to get things put away so I have room to break out the air mattress. Not a fun job.

Anyway, I can sort of claim that I did something on Sunday, because at long last, I have managed to get all of my theater and writing books unpacked and easy to get to. And frankly that goes a long way as far as helping me write. So, yeah, I guess it counts.

This week will be tough to stay on track, but I'll see what happens. Maybe I'll start writing on my lunch breaks.

Day 13

So I'm guessing from the lack of comments that you guys have gotten a little bored with this. Ah, well. Maybe I'll post a sexy picture or something to stir things up a bit. Then again, I'll be getting a temporary roomie soon, so maybe that will liven things up.

Yesterday was just right as far as this dare/goal goes. I managed to do some writing (only about 30 minutes or so), but I did sketch out a scene I've been toying with and write out some "action items" (as they say in consultant-speak) for some of my other work.

Speaking of the scene I'm working on, did any of you go to a Catholic High School, preferably all male? If so, can I pick your brain a little?

Other than the writing, I went to see Deviant by A. Rey Pamatmat at the Sanford Meisner Theater. Great, great, great, great, great! This was the kind of theater I moved to New York to see (and, of course, to write). Simple open set, a couple of multi-functional furniture pieces, not much in the way of costumes, props, etc. The director, Kara-Lynn Vaeni, placed all the focus on the actors. And they were fantastic.

This was a four person show. The story follows a couple, Sara (Jennifer Lim) and Valerie (Courtnie Sauls), who find out their new roommate, James (Daniel Zaitchik), supports his Ph.D. studies by hustling. The fourth character, Wayne (Jacob Blumer), is one of James' pick-ups who starts to turn into something more. It explores any number of things: language and communication, families, prejudice, love, hiding, fear, need, desire, art, academics. The play had lots of non-realistic touches: dream/fantasy sequences, monologues, a dream play, flash-backs. It worked to make this a beautiful, complex play. And if I were an actor, this is the sort of thing I'd want to do. And as a writer, the show really touched me. I loved the theatricality of it, the language, the textures.

Like I said, I was blown away by the acting, or rather, by the fact that the actors never seemed to be acting. They were so in the moment and so true to their characters, that there was nothing artificial about them. Even during the play's many dream/fantasy sequences, where the characters identities became fluid as the dream dictated, they were real to whatever character they were called upon to be and to the style of acting that the dream imposed on them.

Okay, rereading that, I realize it probably makes no sense. Sorry about that. But sometimes it's hard to put abstract feelings into words. Just take my word for it, the acting was great.

The sets, as I said, were simple, but they worked well. The costumes were just right and there was a terrific use of a mask during Sara's dream sequence. The lighting was well done, too (this was a pleasant change after having a wayward light shining in my face during the reading of Orestes on Monday), especially during the various non-realistic scenes.

All in all, as I said, this is exactly the kind of show I moved here to see. I think it only runs through next week, so you should go see it soon. It was well worth it, even having to schlepp over to 11th Avenue in the pouring rain.

Day 12

So last night I worked on one of my plays (and a few little odds and ends). I would have gotten more accomplished, but I watched Lost and went to bed really early. Good thing, as luck would have it, since a young, ethnic couple decided to have a screaming match at 5 a.m. in front of my building.

On the upside, since I was already awake, I managed to get to work an hour early today. Woo hoo.

Back to the plays, I've got to say that this experiment/dare/whatever to do something related to theater every day has been helpful. I've seen 8 shows so far this month (with another one planned for tonight) and I've read 5. Plus I've worked on two of my own. I feel like I'm moving forward for the first time in a while. Nice to have goals, even nicer to be steadily moving toward them.

Day 11

Well, I didn't write last night after all. I got a ticket to Forbidden Broadway: SVU. Very funny, as expected. I've seen five or so of the FB series. The performers were very talented (and one was pretty darn hot) and the parodies were very funny.

Day 10

I went to see a reading of Anne Washburn's adaptation of Orestes produced by Red Bull Theater (a really great group that produces 'heightened language plays' with a special focus on Elizabethan and Jacobean plays).

I have to say, while I appreciated Ms. Washburn's way with language and her sense of whimsy, I didn't much care for the show. It was played for laughs and I just don't think tragedy works when the audience has ironic distance. It was cute and clever (in the original sense of that word), but it was more like a spoof of Orestes than an adaptation.

That being said, two of the actors, Jennifer Dundas as Elektra/Tyndareus and Thomas Jay Ryan as Helen of Troy/Menelaus/Pylades/Trojan Slave, were amazing and had a wonderful way with the language and a dramatic flair. I also thought it was very well directed by Johanna McKeon.

I'm glad I saw it and it gave me some ideas for a play I've been working on, so it certainly wasn't a waste of time.

Since I've been seeing lots of theater and not writing much, I'm going to write tonight.

Day 9

Didn't write again, as such, but I did jot down a few ideas for shows. It's a step in the right direction.

Otherwise, my theater stuff on Sunday was seeing The Great American Trailer Park Musical at Dodger Stages and Naked Macbeth at the Sonnet Theater.

I went into Trailer Park with no real expectations. Some friends had liked it, others hadn't, so I went into it a blank slate. I thought it was great. Fun and silly with catchy songs, it was a great diversion. I just wish they'd been selling the cast album, because some of the lyrics were hilarious and I wanted to listen to them again. But this show is definitely worth seeing, especially if you're from the South. I was impressed with all the actors, set, costumes . . . really, just about everything.

Naked Macbeth was good, not great, but I will give the director credit for going out on a limb. Personally, I'd rather go see a version like this where the director is trying to make the show fresh, than to see a technically perfect show with no vision.

The cast was all male and as the title indicates, there was some nudity, but the 'naked' really referred to the stripped down version of the show. Minimal sets, lighting, props, sound . . . just the things that were necessary. Also, some of the dialogue was cut leaving a fairly fast-moving, tight play.

My biggest problem with the show was that some of the actors just weren't up to the task of working with Shakespeare's language. Some of them were great: Jonty Valentine as Lady Macbeth really knew how to work the language and to be dramatic and feminine without overplaying either; Nathan Perry as Banquo who also seemed at ease with the language and carried himself with the swagger of a warrior backed up with a good heart and keen mind . . . if that isn't present, it makes Banquo's murder less terrible. Unfortunately, others were unable to master the language and that brought the show's pacing down.

I really admire the director, Russell Taylor, for some of the choices he made. I don't think all of them worked, but it made the show interesting. When the house opened, three of the actors were arranged in a tableau that was jarring, but effectively set the mood. He used one actor, Jack McGowan, to play all three Weird Sisters. Not something I would have thought of, but in a lot of respects it worked. The way he set up the cauldron scene (he doesn't use a cauldron . . . I won't say how he does it, but it's really a great idea) and the placement of the line 'Lay on, Macduff' were really clever. He also combined a number of the lesser characters into one Attendant role which was interesting in that it created this double agent who was working for Macbeth and against him. Again, not a choice I would have made, but it did add a new twist to the show.

Other problems I had were the costumes, which seemed to lack a central vision or theme (they ran the gamut from 'This is Spinal Tap' to GI Joe to Dungeons & Dragons), a kiss and a familiarity between Macbeth and Banquo that hinted at a relationship that was beyond platonic, but wasn't fully explored, and a Duncan who didn't really come off as sympathetic (he seemed dismissive and there was kind of a creepy vibe between him and his son, Donalbain). Not sure if that was a director or actor choice, but if Duncan isn't sympathetic, it takes some of the horror out of Macbeth's murdering him.

Overall, though, I think the show is worth seeing. Plus people should get out and support shows that take risks, otherwise theater becomes stagnant.

But if you do, bring a cushion to sit on . . . the chairs in the theater are terrible.

Day 8

Read John Patrick Shanley's Doubt. Very powerful. Must see it on Broadway.

And yes, Shanley's a great writer. Pulitzer. Academy Award. But please remember, he also wrote the screenplay for Congo. And he'll be in Purgatory for a while for that one.

Tee hee

Today's Savage Chickens cartoon made me laugh.

One of my roommates in grad school was one of the most malapropian sons-of-bitches in the world. He would then justify his use of the completely incorrect word by claiming that language was fluid and that his new use of the word simply added to the existing meaning of the word.

This justification used to drive me batshit crazy.

So when he wasn't around, I'd teabag his toothbrush.





Kidding.







Or am I?

Day 7

I wrote a review of The Bubble and submitted it to one of the online theater sites. If they pick it up, I'll get paid and will have to give up my amateur status.

My only other theater experience today will be to attend this cabaret act. I'm so excited I could just pee. Though, God willing, I won't.

Day 6 (continued)

So Absurd Person Singular was cute. Clever concept, like all of Ayckbourn's plays.

The play follows three couples at Christmas. Each of the three acts is set in a different couple's kitchen in a different consecutive year. As I said, typical Ayckbourn. He likes to play with location or with some other aspect of the play to make that the central conceit around which the play runs.

And it was fine. A good cast, Alan Ruck (Ferris Bueller, Spin City), Clea Lewis, Miereille Enos (who was in the recent Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf), Sam Robards, Deborah Rush (Strangers with Candy), and Paxton Whitehead.

Lots of funny bits, but ultimately a bit of a trifle. Worth seeing, mind you, but easily forgotten.

And while it has nothing to do with playwriting, I watched Harry and Max last night. Good movie. Interesting concept. A little disturbing, but I really enjoyed it. And Cole Williams is adorable. I had forgotten that he was in L.T.R. in Boys Life 4 (mostly because it wasn't very good). Still, it will be interesting to see where his talent takes him.

Wow

Counting tonight's show and the two shows I'll be seeing this weekend, I will have seen five shows in the past two weeks using my Play by Play membership.

That means I will have saved $361 off the regular ticket prices (this takes into account that I bought two tickets for some of the shows . . . yes, occasionally people are willing to tolerate my presence, especially for free theater tickets).

So far this year I've seen 13 shows using them. What a great deal this has turned out to be.

Tonight

Okay, I can't go because I have the ticket to the Ayckbourn play and had the date wrong for this event, but if you are free then you should go to:

VANISHING POINT at ENSEMBLE STUDIO THEATER

Call the theatre's main # at 212-247-4982.
They should answer between 10 - 6, M-F.
Tell them you are making a reservation for the OCTOBERFEST project VANISHING POINT on October 6 at 8:30 pm in the 2nd Floor Mainstage theatre. The address is 549 West 52nd Street, between 10th and 11th Avenues (closer to 11th, on the north side of the street. There is a Blue Banner above the entrance that says Ensemble Studio Theatre)

This show by Rob Hartmanm (a wonderful writer and boyfriend of this man) is amazing. I saw it last year at the Symphony Space (read about it here and here).

It is really a brilliant show. To give you an idea, I saw it one time over a year ago, and there is a song that I find myself humming from time to time now. Go see it, you won't be disappointed.

Day 6 (so far)

The nice thing about public transportation and getting stood up for lunch is that there is time to read a play or two. I read Terrence McNally's The Stendhal Syndrome which is made up of two short plays: Full Frontal Nudity and Prelue & Leibestod.

Amazing stuff. I love McNally. He's up there with Tom Stoppard and Christopher Durang as my favorite playwrights.

So even if I don't manage to write tonight . . . and as God is my witness, I shall write tonight . . . I'll still have kept up with my program.

UPDATE: Well, a ticket to Absurd Person Singular by Alan Ayckbourn just fell in my lap (not literally), so I guess I won't be doing any writing tonight. But I will very likely be doing some laughing.

Day 5

No writing last night; I think my muse has been sick. So instead I read three plays by Jonathan Tolins: The Last Sunday in June, If Memory Serves, and Twilight of the Golds.

More about them later.

Day 4

Last night I didn't feel like writing, so I read Julia Cho's BFE, a very interesting play.

From the show's press release: "An Asian American family attempts to escape its stifling Arizonan home life in BFE, which tells the story of Panny, a spunky fourteen year-old; her socially awkward uncle; her homebound mom who fantasizes about General MacArthur; and the serial killer that stalks their neighborhood in search of bubbly blondes. A cautionary tale about the devastating effects of an image-obsessed society, BFE calls into question the nature of beauty and desirability in contemporary America."

Really odd, really theatrical, but really good. I wish I could have seen it onstage.

I Will Dare Myself

So my goal for the month of October is to do something every day that moves my playwriting forward. This can include going to see a show (as I did on the first and second of the month) or actually working on my plays (which I did last night).

So here are a couple of mini-reviews.

Short Eyes: This was a staged reading at the Public Theater. Pretty interesting play, though it sort of suffers being presented now that prison dramas like Oz have been somewhat mainstreamed (some of the actors in this reading were, in fact, Oz alumni). But I can see how it would have been shocking in its time. The acting was a little uneven; some of the actors were amazing, some appeared to be reading the script for the first time. But still, a well-spent evening.

The Bubble by Frank J. Avella at the New Cockpit Ensemble: I really liked it, but I don't think it will be everyone's cup of tea. The play is in three sections: first, a playwright (Joe Pistone) struggling to create a show and having to deal with his characters who don't really appreciate his efforts and are willing to let him know it; second, the same playwright, now in rehearsals of his show, constantly reworking everything to the actors' distraction and having to deal with his own personal drama; and finally, the play itself, where the playwright (or rather the character he wrote based on himself) deals with his life and his family. I think anyone who has struggled with the creative process will appreciate the play. And the plays within the play.

A clever show, good cast, a hot naked guy . . . all it needed was an audience. It was very poorly attended the day I saw it, and though the actors gave it their all, you can only do so much without feedback. Go see it. Hell, just for the cute naked guy if nothing else.

The Basic Training of Pavlo Hummell: Holy fuck, what a great show! This was another staged reading at the Public Theater of a Viet Nam War era play. It was amazing. The cast was strong (especially Chris Messina in the title role . . . you'll remember him as Ted, the lawyer who eventually married Claire on Six Feet Under), the direction (by Philip Seymour Hoffman) was well-done, the audience was into it, and the play itself was really riveting.

I had two celebrity sightings at the theater: Philip Seymour Hoffman, who brushed up against me as he went down to the stage to congratulate (I would assume) the actors, and Ben Curtis, most recently in Joy and formerly in Dell commercials, who sadly did not brush up against me at all.

Strangers with Gavels

I've never really thought of President Bush as a really off-the-wall, think-outside-the-box sort of guy, but how else to explain his nomination of Jerri Blank to the Supreme Court?

August Wilson

I didn't always agree with his views, but he was an amazing playwright and a giant of the theater. His vision and voice will be missed. Rest in peace.