Wedding Lessons

Me as Carmella backstage.

In my last three weeks in Tony n' Tina's Wedding, I was put on the schedule for 3 performances, out of 10.

I actually worked for all 10 of them.

People got sick and I had to fill in. Or they wanted time off and asked me to trade. Or they realized they were understaffed. And, in a couple of instances, the Assistant Stage Manager found ways to sneak me onto the schedule (because he's awesome).

In one of my final weeks, Dan Mega and my friend John got to come see the show. John seemed like he didn't want to be there, but Dan played along whenever one of the bridesmaids asked him to dance. It was just nice to have a couple more people see what I've been working so hard on for these last few months. I may not have played a major role, but it has been a major part of my life, and I like being able to share that with people I know.

I got to develop Farina further. And jinkies, she got tips! She got money every time she danced on the bar. Men LOVED her! I even got a couple of proposals as Farina.

I got to give Carmella a proper send off, playing her twice in my last week. It's really neat how much she grew as a character in those three months.

One night, Hot Cocoa even got propositioned by one of the groomsmen (Dominic -- generally he proposes to his girlfriend Donna, but she turned him down. He tried to end up with Sister Terry, but she walked out on him, too. So he turned to Hot Cocoa for some lovin'). I was Hot Cocoa in my final performance, and I think I had some of the best improv that I've had during the preshow. It was a lovely way to leave.

My good friend Dan (who had played the Black Staff character Vito, the boyfriend/ex of Hot Cocoa) finally got to go up as Dominic (the dumb groomsman) for my last couple of weeks. I was thrilled for him. I mean, it was bittersweet for me to watch, as he was getting to do what I'd wanted so badly to get a shot at... but still, I was happy.

I lived vicariously through him and Mel, who started playing Donna (Dominic's girlfriend, the attention whore bridesmaid) several weeks ago. If you'll remember, the three of us have been together since before we were hired. Watching them on their journeys has made mine feel a little more complete.

Me (as Farina) flirting with Mel (as Black Staff Sophie) in the women's dressing room.

I know that my situation was created out of circumstance. I know that if I hadn't put my notice in, I'd be playing Sister Terry right now. I know that. But it doesn't always make it easier to take.

Before you go up as a character, you have to watch roughly three performances (which I did). You have to write 9 pages worth of answers to various questions (which I did). And, lastly, you have to have a meeting with the director to talk about the ins and outs of the character to make sure that you have everything locked up, from blocking, to backstory, to motivation (which I did not... it usually happens the day you go up).

When Dan had his meeting, the director asked him how long he'd been on Black Staff. Dan said three months, and the director said, "Really? Wow! You guys really put in your time, didn't you?" He clearly had no idea that we'd been there that long. The director then said that Dan had been doing a great job as Black Staff, "And so has that girl who started with you. What's her name? Amanda?"

Yeah, that's right. He STILL doesn't know my name. But at least he knows I was working hard. That makes it a little less painful.

Later in the meeting, the director told Dan that the next character he'll be playing will be Tony, the groom. And then he said, "And if that girl who started with you were staying, she would've been Tina next."

*tear*

If only...

Someone told me a long time ago that when someone is in consideration for Tony or Tina, they have to stay on Black Staff longer so that they have time to really, fully absorb the show (those characters have more lines and set blocking than any of the others). So I guess that explains why Dan and I were stuck on Black Staff for three frickin' months. Oh well.

For the record, I think I would've made a great Tina. And it would've been SO MUCH FUN playing Tina against Dan! He and I have always had fun together in Black Staff. Heck, we hit it off the first time we met. He's one of my favorite people, and I know we would've made a great on-stage couple.

Dan and me... Wouldn't we have made a great Tony & Tina?

In the last three weeks, a total of 8 people (EIGHT!!!) have put in their notices at TnT. That number, for the record, includes the current Tina. Which means if I were staying, I'd most likely go up as Tina by the beginning of September.

It also means that the next round of people who audition will probably go up as characters in a matter of 2-3 weeks after being hired, simply because the show is going to be short-staffed.

Both of those things were painful to know.

I'm a big believer in the idea that "everything happens for a reason" (note the top of my sidebar). And I've been trying to come up with a reason for this. Why didn't I get to be a character? Why am I leaving RIGHT BEFORE I could've been Terry, and within a month of being Tina? Why can't I put a real character on my résumé?

Here are the reasons I've come up with thus far:

- Maybe I'm supposed to learn that hard work doesn't always pay off, especially in this business. Putting in your time doesn't mean you'll be recognized. The theatre is a cruel mistress.

- Maybe I have to learn that I need to do this for myself. I can't go into any theatre experience looking for validation from others. I can't expect the director to tell me I'm doing a great job. I can't expect the audience to be eating out of my hand. When I give 100%, I have to know that at least one person is satisfied, and that person has to be me.

- If I got into Tina, I might just stay here. I might end up feeling like I couldn't leave the security of this show. I might not move on to bigger, better things, and miss out on opportunities as a result. Maybe I'd even turn into a "lifer".

- Maybe this was to keep me humble. The character of Tina is a diva, and at least one of the people I've seen play her turned into one as a result. I have now worked for three months doing a job that felt more like labor than acting. I was, in many ways, a member of a costumed, choreographed stage crew. Playing the people on the bottom of the totem pole who get yelled at during the show AND after it? You can't possibly be a diva.

- Maybe it was to help me learn that being a part of the show has to be about teamwork and looking at the production as a whole. When you're Black Staff, you're never saying, "Look at me!"; you say, "Look at over there! Look at them! Look at that!" You have to realize that your role is small, and that there are more important and more interesting things for the audience to be paying attention to than you. That doesn't mean that you should slack off or give up. What it means is that you have to know how to give up focus. You have to know what your role is, and how to make the experience better for the audience. You can't be selfish and look for praise for yourself, because you're doing the production a disservice if you do.

- Maybe putting "Tony n' Tina's Wedding" on my résumé would be detrimental to my career, as my coworker once suggested. Maybe it's better to just leave it off entirely as opposed to proudly displaying Sister Terry. It's less upsetting to erase "Hot Cocoa" from my career history than it would've been with a real character.


So I guess there were reasons. Or maybe I'm just lying to myself and there is no good reason. I am, after all, rather adroit at convincing myself of things.

After the show, I went out to the bar with the cast one last time. I brought along my beloved game "Apples to Apples", and said whoever won would get to keep it. But I won the first game... So then I stayed out of the second game and just proceeded to get intoxi-tipsy. I got to see a couple of the other actors in the cast do their impressions of me (which all involved dancing and were pretty hilarious). I said goodbye to all my favorite people *waves to Carol*. It's weird to think that I may never see them again.

Me and my costumer buddy Carol.

Before the show, the four of us who were leaving last night were asked if we wanted to make little speeches. I didn't speak long, because I haven't been there long. I said that I'd never come into a running production before, and I had been worried that I'd feel like an outsider. The cast welcomed me with open arms and made me feel like part of their family. I'm grateful for that, and have enjoyed the last few months. Even though I wasn't a character, I know I gained a lot from it, not the least of which is a new circle of friends.


May you understand that things happen for a reason, and may you learn lessons from everything that happens.

~A~


P.S. Dan has decided that he is going to prevent me from going to the Sunshine State using "force... or through sexual temptation... whatever does the trick." Haha.


ETA:


Dan and me messing around during pre-show as Vito & Hot Cocoa

The Last Day

(NOTE: I'm posting this on the heels of a more interesting post, so don't forget to read that one).

I showed up to my last day of work an hour late, having been up (blogging this) until an ungodly hour of the morning. It actually seemed to be okay... I'd already used all my vacation time, so they might take money out of my final paycheck, but I don't mind.

I was, shall we say, distracted. And no, it wasn't because I was hungover or tired. Heck, it wasn't really even because it was my last day. I was distracted because I kept drifting off into daydream territory trying to relive and piece together the night before. Have you ever had something hot happen to you that you just can't shake out of your brain for a couple of days? That's what I was experiencing.

Some of my coworkers clearly cared more than others about my impending absence. The terrific fellows I've been lunching with for the last couple of months have let me know that they'll miss me. My break buddy told me he doesn't know how much longer he'll be able to last at the job without me around to keep things interesting. My buddy Ben (the pudding guy) who works on another floor came to visit my desk and bought me a Cherry Coke. A couple of other coworkers didn't even say the word "goodbye" to me at any point during the day. Oh well. I guess you can't be friends with everyone.

I didn't have a hangover when I got to work, but somehow I ended up with one as sort of a delayed reaction around noon. That was unpleasant.

I had emailed all the people I knew at work the day before to tell them I'd be going to California Pizza Kitchen for lunch at 1:00pm, and they were welcome to tag along if they were available. It ended up being me, my boss, and a handful of people from my department. The service was incredibly slow, and we ended up being out almost 40-minutes past our lunch break, but my boss said not to worry about it since it was my last day.

I guess I got my going-away party after all.

Near the end of the day, my coworkers surprised me at my desk with a bouquet of pink and orange roses, a card, and a massive chocolate cupcake from the Hershey's store (which I ate in two sittings and was DELICIOUS). I didn't read the card because I didn't want to get emotional (or worse, NOT get emotional and have them all be disappointed that I wasn't moved by the long, sentimental messages that they'd written).


(me with the coworker who brought me flowers last Tuesday)

Clearing out my desk was the strangest part of the day. All the little meaningless things that I've kept to make my desk more interesting seemed so inconsequential. Even the things that I decided to take with me probably won't make it to Florida. I need to minimize. I don't need to bring a solicitous card that talks to you about insurance when you open it... but damn, it was funny for all those months at work.

It was strange not having work today. It was a Monday, and I was home, not having to use vacation or call in sick. It wasn't a holiday. I had no one to answer to.

I'm not technically unemployed yet, as I still have a few possible performances of Tony n' Tina's Wedding... But I might as well be. (That job, while hard work, doesn't feel like a job.)

I've been at my job since December 2006. I can't tell you how bizarre it is to not work there anymore. I don't think it has fully hit me yet. I'll let you know when it does...


May you find closure in saying goodbyes.

~A~

The Naughty Bartender

I'm barely employed at the moment (for like 2 weeks... yay for a break!), so you'd think I'd be a more frequent blogger. But no. If anything, I feel lazier than normal without my scheduled hustle. I have several things to write about, but I'm going to break them up into several posts (which I intend to shoot out as soon as I finish them. Two posts in one day? It might happen... *gasp!*).

I'm glad so many of you enjoyed that last post of mine... I slept through my alarm clock and ended up at work an hour late (but it was my last day, so I don't think anyone cared). If I had gotten up at the normal time and not had to rush to work, I'm sure I would've taken it down before I left. Instead, I remembered that I had written it around 10:00am. I went to take it down, but saw how many amused comments there were and decided against it. Nights like that come few and far between in my world. It's not a bad thing to have a record of impulsive fun. When I'm dying in grad school, I'll probably look back on it fondly.

Later in the day, I got a facebook notification that the bartender had accepted my friend request from the night (morning?) before.



Yes, that photo is him. I feel weird about posting one of his face, as I didn't ask permission or anything (besides, there are only a handful of pictures of him on there, and most contain other people). But that's just so there's proof that I didn't make him up or anything.

I learned a lot of jarring information in a brief period of time. Let me walk you through it in the order that I saw things, along with italicized bit of inner-monologue...

1. Directly after accepting my friend request (we're talking within two minutes, according to his feed), his relationship status became "It's Complicated".

(Wait, what? What was it before that? Was it single before and now suddenly it's Complicated? That had better not be about me. But oh God, if it's NOT about me, then was he cheating on someone with me? Am I the "other woman"? It does NOT say "open relationship", so the odds that she would be okay with this are not good... Wait, maybe SHE broke up with HIM, because it doesn't say it's complicated WITH someone, and that's how facebook handles it when the other person initiates the break up... But what are the odds that it would happen within two minutes of becoming my friend, hours after making out with me?)

2. I notice his status says "is moving."

(Oh my God! He was totally living with his girlfriend, and then he probably came home at like 4:00am and he told her he made out with some random chick and she threw him out! OH MY GOD! I'M A HOMEWRECKER!)

3. I try to look at his past statuses to see if I can find proof that he was already in the process of moving, or to see if he had been in a relationship with someone before. I discover that he hadn't had any activity in over a week before I requested him as a friend.

(Wait, didn't we have a conversation last night about our most recent break-ups? We totally did! I don't remember most of it, but I know he was talking about an ex. Which means he just got out of a relationship. Or he was lying to me because I told him that whole story about how anti-cheating I am, and that's why I wouldn't get with the guys who had been hitting on me... because they all had girlfriends. So he lied to me and said he'd broken up with his girlfriend! HOLY CATS! I AM THE OTHER WOMAN! But is that my fault? I mean, if he lied to me, how could I have known? But I SHOULD have known! I'm just so gullible! No, not gullible... I'm TRUSTING! And he betrayed my trust. HOW DARE HE!)

4. I go back to his main page. Less than five minutes have passed since I first looked at it. His relationship status has now changed to "Single".

(Wait, maybe they broke up a while ago, and he just hadn't changed his relationship status. After all, he's not on Facebook very often. He hadn't been on at all for over a week... That's not so bad. No problem... I wonder if anyone wrote encouragement on his wall regarding a break up...)

5. Only 4 posts on his wall, total. One was from the night before from a female who thanked him for going out on Sunday (I was reading this on a Friday, for reference). The others were months before.

(No mention of a break up, but clearly he's been hanging out with women at bars... so he's probably single... Right?)

6. The wall post directly before that? From April 28th. It says, and I quote, "Your daughters are so adorable!".

(OH MY GOD! HE HAS DAUGHTERS! OH MY GOD! Daughters with an 's', meaning PLURAL! He probably just broke up with his baby mama! OH MY GOD, WHAT IF HE WAS MARRIED? Calm down, Angela. Maybe you misread it. Maybe it's an inside joke... Nope. Definitely not.)

7. Look at his photo albums for evidence of daughters. Find pictures with two ADORABLE little girls. He refers to them as "My girls". There is also a picture of a woman who looks like she could definitely be their mother.

(I'm a horrible person. I'm going to Hell. This man has two children and a baby mama. Wait, no... HE'S a horrible person! Unless he's single. The pictures have clearly been there for awhile... I CAN'T BELIEVE HE HAS KIDS AND DIDN'T MENTION THAT! But then, I know EXACTLY why he didn't mention that. It would be a stupid thing to bring up... Must show female coworker and ask for advice.)

8. Coworker asks to see picture of him. I find a couple and realize just how Hispanic he looks.

(Oh man, he's the biggest liar ever! He was going off about how he was 100% Sicilian, and how his grandmother was the youngest of 11 children and was the first one born in America. And he told me the story of how his best friend's mother spoke Spanglish, and that's how he started learning Spanish... But he totally looks Hispanic in these pictures! How did I not notice that last night? Oh, wait... I DID notice that last night! And I asked him if he was Mexican or Puerto Rican or something, and he said he was Sicilian, and I said I didn't believe him because he was fluent in Spanish... He is SUCH A LIAR! And I am SO GULLIBLE! Oh my God... What ELSE did he lie about?)

9. Check his birthdate. His birthday is in December, and he's 30. Just like he said.

(That doesn't prove anything. He's still not an honest person... He's... still... really hot. Damn.)

I do a lot more freaking out.

The coworker that I showed everything to started coming up with conspiracy theories based on her experiences with dating players in the past. She thinks he told me he was Sicilian so that if I talked to him around any other girls that he had hooked up with, our stories wouldn't match and we wouldn't realize we were talking about the same guy. She also said to stay away from him so that I don't have to deal with any baby mama drama.

(Have you seen the movie The 40 Year Old Virgin where Jay starts warning Andy that Trish's baby-daddy might be in prison and have boys on the outside who were going to hunt him down? It felt like that kind of conversation. Pretty funny, in retrospect.)

Then begins the second part of the drama...

At some point, I guess I sent a text to my TnT buddy Dan saying that I had experienced a PG-13 night. To be honest, I'm not really sure when (or why) I did that... Dan then tried to get me to tell him who the guy was, via text. I wouldn't. Dan texted, "then at least tell me who went to the bar," clearly assuming that it had been someone from TnT. I wrote back that I never made it out to the bar. I guess I thought that'd be the end of the story.

So imagine my surprise when I walked into the dressing room half an hour early, and one of the actresses said, "so I heard you made out with Nick last night." Um, WHAT? Color me shocked.

As it turned out... Dan had arrived at the theatre early. He asked the handful of people who were there if they knew where I'd gone the night before after the show. Carol, the costume mistress, told him that she thought I had gone to the bar. The others said that no, I hadn't. Carol said, "well I left her with Nick and the kitchen staff... And Nick said he'd take her to the bar." Dan then proceeded to tell them what he'd heard from me, and the rumor was born.

And my freak out reaction to said rumor? Well, that confirmed it.

Fantastic. So now? I'm pretty sure that everyone in TnT knows.

One of the girls actually told me how jealous she was, saying that she thought he was hot. She then said that the reason she hadn't gone after him was because she thought he was gay, and was glad to know that he's not.

Happy to help?

I think that at least one of the guys in the cast is actually bitter about the whole thing... Jealous, I think. Oh well. Sorry buddy. It's not like I planned it.

I ended up talking to the kitchen staff before the show, and they confirmed that, to their knowledge, the bartender is not actually 100% Sicilian. One said, "I think he's half-Italian, half-Boricua" (Puerto Rican). When I asked if they knew why he had tried to convince me of his Sicilian background, he said, "I think he wanted to impress you."

The funny thing is, it wouldn't have mattered if he'd told the truth. I had a massive crush on a Puerto Rican named Pedro once. (Mmmm... Pedro...) I would've been equally excited (impressed?) by that background. Hell, my first kiss was with a Mexican guy. I have a thing for Hispanics. He really gained nothing with that lie (except maybe a harder to follow trail for his baby mama's private investigators).

Remember when I wrote my theory of the fine lines of personality? This guy is TOTALLY the Charming/Con Artist... with a dash of Sexy/Evil.


May you know what you're getting into,

~A~

Hot Stuff

Note: the following post may contain significant spelling and grammatical errors, as I am currently heavily under the intoxication of alcohol while composing it. Then again, it's me... and I'm not the sort of person who would normally allow that sort of thing, so I wouldn't be surprised if, even while intoxicated, the errors aren't numerous. Nonetheless, I felt the need to forewarn you.

Secondary note: Yes, I'm a pretentious b**** when drunk.

Tertiary note: Not always. Just when I'm drunk-blogging, apparently.

Wish me luck!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I am drunk.

I just had an extraordinarily hot encounter with a 30-year-old Sicilian bartender.

I have to be at work in less than (fewer than?) 5.5 hours (probably more like 4.5 by the time I finish writing all of this with as few typos as humanly possible).

But despite this (and ignoring the fact that I'm pretty sure I blogged yesterday-ish), I'm going to tell you some strange semblance of the story.

Drunk-blogging, here I come!

His name is Nick. He used to be a bartender for Tony n' Tina's, back when they needed two full-time bartenders (we're talking like 5-6 years ago -- the show is not running out of massive demand at this point, but rather because it's a "family business", from my understanding). Nick also used to be a drummer in the band, back when there was a TnT band (they have since replaced the band with a DJ after realizing how much money it would save them to only pay one person instead of four).

For the record: I have a thing for drummers.

(But honestly, even if he weren't a drummer, I totally would've gone for this guy.)

I first met him several weeks ago when he was filling in for our usual bartender. I saw him a bit more during Frankie Avalon week (when we actually needed two bartenders). And then I saw him tonight, as he filled in for our usual bartender (not sure why, but I don't really care at this point... do you?).

After the show tonight, instead of going out to the bar with the rest of the cast, I made the unusual choice to wait with the costumer as she did some repairs and did a couple loads of laundry. The new costumer, Carol, has only been around for a few weeks, but she and I are becoming fast friends (due in no small part to our mutual affection for Neil Patrick Harris in "Doctor Horrible's Sing-Along Blog"). I decided to keep her company.

When we were finally leaving the theatre, we ran into replacement-bartender-Nick and the kitchen staff (three Hispanic men, who are hilarious and cook darn fine Italian food) at the bar of the reception hall, drinking. Nick invited Costume-Chick Carol and I to stay. We both refused (Costume-Chick Carol had to drive home to Indiana, and I had promised to make an appearance at the bar), but Nick eventually convinced me to stay, and gave me a bottle of water. Then I let him talk me into a cherry coke. And after that, a Corona. I'm not entirely sure how all of that transpired at this point. I do remember joking with the Hispanic men (who all speak Spanish far better than they speak English -- Nick speaks Spanish relatively fluently despite not being Hispanic, which he claims is due to his bar-tending experiences).

I usually get a ride home from TnT person at the bar, so I was planning to head over. Nick said not to worry, and that he would give me a ride home. But somehow we didn't make it to my house. I had already told him that tomorrow (today?) would be my last day of work, and he convinced me to go out to a bar (claiming that if it were my last day of work, no one would care if I showed up hung over). And, as with most intoxicated logic, it made perfect sense at the time.

Nick tends bar at some random place uptown that I'd never heard of before. We ended up there. He bought me a lot of drinks. I danced to "Pour Some Sugar on Me" with one of the regulars... Then he tried to kiss me in the bar. I remember resisting at first and saying, "What are you doing?" Past that, I think I just went with it.

Actually, now that I think about it, I think he may have tried to kiss me before that. I remember at one point him leaning in close to me... I put my ear toward him, but he didn't say anything. And then I said, "what," and he said, "I wasn't trying to say anything," and me saying, "then why did you lean into me," and him saying, "you really don't get it, do you?"

Yes, I really am THAT oblivious when guys are flirting with me.

Not long after that, he kissed me. While sitting at a bar. I don't think anyone has ever done that before. I don't think anyone has ever kissed me while sitting at a bar counter before tonight. I'm also pretty sure that I haven't ever kissed them back while sitting at a bar before tonight. So it's safe to assume that I hadn't ever had a second-base makeout session at a bar before tonight.

Holy cats, it was hot.

And far from the cries of "get a room," it seemed more that we were being applauded. Or, rather, I think he was. Probably at least in part because he usually works at said bar and people knew him. And in part because they thought I was hot.

Not to say that I AM hot. I'm not vain enough to proclaim such a statement self-referentially. I'm just saying it because I heard a drunk regular say it.

Oh, boy. Just saw clock, and it's 3:36am. No matter. I'm going to keep going. Because I've come this far, right?

As soon as he kissed me, I pulled away and said, "What was that for?"

He responded, "It's for me wanting you since I saw you play Hot Cocoa during Frankie Week."

No, I'm not kidding. Those were his exact words. And despite the fact that I played sultry, flirty, horny Farina tonight, for some reason he (and most other males in the cast, inexplicably) is more attracted to Hot Cocoa. Go figure.

Did I mention that he kept buying me drinks? Because he did. Strawberry Stoli mixed with cranberry lemonade. I'd never had it before, but boy, he nailed me. It was the perfect sort of drink for me. Didn't taste like alcohol or oranges, but certainly contained alcohol.

Generally, alcohol does not lower my inhibitions. But I thought, what the heck? He's single, which is more than I can say of most of the men who've hit on me in the last month. He's HOT. He's straight. And he's exactly what I've been looking for...

You know, I've actually never had a random make out session before. I've never kissed a guy that there wasn't a back-story with (if not someone I was dating). This is completely out of character for me. And I sort of loved it.

I won't go into details, but let's just say that being kissed in a bar was not the only first for me tonight. There were a handful of firsts. For example, I've never been fearful of being arrested before. But that definitely happened tonight. To say anything more would be TMI (hey, look at me! Self-censoring while drunk! Impressive, is it not?).

We ended up parked in front of my apartment building for a long period of time. I ended up breaking things off out of necessity (i.e. I really had to pee), and he played the "Goodbye Game" (i.e. doing anything you can think of to make the other person forget that they were about to go) with me for a long, long time. I told him that he was not allowed up to my apartment (for multiple reasons... 1. I have a twin bed. 2. My floor is covered in boxes. 3. I have work at 8:30 today. P.S. Why am I still typing?).

At the end of the night, as he begged me not to leave, we exchanged numbers. I may or may not see him again. He said that next time, he hopes I'll end up over at his place.

By the way, he knows about my sexual history already. Or, rather, my lack thereof.

Right. Probably shouldn't be writing this on the internet (as this is something that I've struggled with not-saying for months), but the hell with it: I have never had sex.

Had you guessed that already? Does it surprise you? Well, in any case, it's the truth. Perhaps I'll elaborate at some point. Perhaps I won't. As you have no doubt noticed, I am a complicated and confusing person even without that aspect of my life dissected, and it is only a minute fragment of the being that I am. So I think it best not to discuss it at length online (for a multitude of reasons, actually).

Anyway.

Have I mentioned that it was hot? Because it was. And I wouldn't mind revisiting that.

I can count the number of people I've kissed on my fingers. And that INCLUDES the people I've kissed on stage. In fact, a few weeks ago I was concerned that the people I've kissed ON stage might overtake the number that I've kissed OFF stage. But lucky, I just threw another mark in the OFF column.

Have I mentioned that he's HOT? Because seriously, he is. I don't think I can name a hotter person that I've ever made out with. Wowza. HOT. Wish I had a picture to include, because all the ladies that read my blog would be hella jealous. Yes, I just used the word "hella", proving how drunk I am (as I normally contend that it is NOT a word).

May you feel sexy out of the blue.

~A~


P.S. I love Donna Summer. Hence the post title. Don't hate.

Backhanded Goodbyes

If I had any mixed feelings about leaving, they're gone now.

I gave my notice at Tony n' Tina's Wedding last week. I knew that this would condemn me to Black Staff for the rest of my days (despite claims from some in the cast that "don't worry, they'll let you go up [as Sister Terry] before you leave"... Oh, please. Why would they bother putting in the time to finish training me now?).

What I didn't anticipate was being punished in another way: not being put on the schedule.

I've worked every single performance for the last two months (I've been in the show for three). I've worked hard. I've been completely exhausted as a result. And I expected that to continue.

Imagine my surprise when, out of four shows this week, I was only scheduled to be in one of them.

And on top of that, the director made it painfully obvious that he was going to great lengths to avoid putting me on Black Staff. Like on two nights, scheduling only one Black Staff to do it single-handedly (which is damn well near impossible). Or bumping the current Tina down to Black Staff and calling in an old Tina to take her place. He even scheduled someone for one performance who had already gotten approved to take the night off. THAT'S how far he went to not put me on.

I was upset. Understandably, I think.

This show is about to be short-staffed for a month, due to four of us leaving on the 9th. Shouldn't they use me while they've got me? But no, the director has decided to punish me for leaving. It just seems like an immature decision to me.

You know, as much as it sucks that I've been stuck in Black Staff for three months (which, if you recall, is like being on stage crew -- or being a waiter, but for way less money -- and having to be in character on top of that), I like it. Yes, I wish I were a character. Of course I do. But I've made the most out of Black Staff. I give my all every single night. I've created complex, interesting, energetic characters. I'm great at getting the audience involved (even the people who came into the show with the idea that they were going to hate it).

I love performing. I love being part of a show again. And I won't be able to do it again for a long time (in my grad school program, you're not on stage for your first year).

Additionally, the cast of TnT has become my friend group. We go out to the bar every show night. We have a lot of fun, both during the performances and after them. And not being in the show means missing out on that.

Things ended up working out alright. Someone called in sick on Wednesday, so they called me in. Someone needed off on Friday, so they called me in. And there's too big of a house for one Black Staff to handle tonight, so they've called me in. My one-show week has turned into a four-show-week. And while most people in this show would love to have some time off, I'm thrilled to be working.

And to make things more interesting for myself, I created yet another Black Staff character last night. Her name is Farina. She flirts with every male in the room (young or old, cast or audience). She thinks getting married in your twenties is a bad idea, because you should play the field while you've got time.

It's always fun to create a new character, but I'll probably stick to Hot Cocoa and Carmella for the rest of my shows, as I love them both and probably won't have many more opportunities to play either of them. I've been told by the ASM to expect to only be on the schedule one time next week, and one time the week after (although if I'm lucky, I might be able to squeeze in a couple more shows the same way I did this week)

On top of dealing with this at my night job, there are problems with my other job. My day job. My "real" job.

I had some vacation days left that I wanted to use before leaving. My last day there is going to be next Friday (August 1st). So I took a half day yesterday, I'm taking a half day on Thursday, and I decided to take Wednesday off. A good way to sort of break up my last week, I thought.

Two of my coworkers have birthdays this week (one on Sunday, one on Monday). One of my other coworkers found out last week that she got a job in a different department, and her last day will be the week after mine. And another coworker is approaching his 5-year anniversary at the company.

So my boss had the brilliant idea to combine the two birthdays, two going-away parties, and anniversary party.

And she put it on Wednesday, July 30th.

Yeah, that's right. The day I'm going to be gone.

KNOWING FULL WELL that I was going to be gone.

They're throwing me a going-away party, and I'm not even going to be there to attend it.

And on top of that, they've asked me to donate money to help buy food for it.

I wanted to scream. I pointed out that I wasn't going to be there, and the response I got was, "Oh, that's too bad."

They probably just didn't think about it.

It reminds me of the end of last year when my whole department was taken out to lunch by our VP because we'd exceeded our goals for the year. Everything was served family style, so the people planning things ordered the food a week in advance. Before placing the order, they asked, "Hey, Angela, you're still a vegetarian, right?" I assured them that I was, and they said they'd make sure to get several things that I could eat. When we got there for the meal, I saw that they ordered two salads and about six main dishes. One of the salads had anchovies, the other had bacon. And they only ordered ONE meatless dish (fettucine alfredo), which other people polished off before the bowl made it down to me. Then they said, "Well, that's why we ordered two things with chicken and one with fish. We figured you could eat those." (Apparently, none of them knows the definition of the word "vegetarian"?) They ended up ordering another bowl of fettucine so that I could eat SOMETHING.

That sucked. But this whole party-for-me-without-me thing? Infinitely worse.

As one of my coworkers pointed out, "when you have a going-away party for someone who is there, you're saying 'we're going to miss you.' When the person isn't there, you're saying, 'hooray, she's leaving!' "

I've been working there for a year and a half, and I have been a DAMN fine employee (okay, not so much lately... but last year my performance review was outstanding and said I "often exceeded expectations", which is high praise in my department). And now I'm leaving. I'm not just going to another floor, like the other girl who's leaving. I'm moving out of the state. To a state that's very far away. And these people that I've seen five days a week for the last year and a half? I might never see them again. And they're throwing my goodbye party when I WON'T BE THERE.

Maybe I'm overreacting, but I cried. A lot.

But, you know what? It's my party, and I'll cry if I want to.

There's more to this story... Like how my boss BEGGED me to ask for Friday off from TnT so that the department could go out for drinks on my last day, and then (after I had asked for it off, something that probably hurt me in TnT) decided that we shouldn't go because three people in the department were going to be out that day. Or how my boss TOLD ME that we would have a party on my last day, and then changed her mind. Or how, when I took Wednesday off, my boss said, "Oh, but then you'll miss the double-birthday-party," and then she went on to combine it with my going-away party after that conversation... There are several more things that I'm bitter about, but you get the idea.

And yes, I COULD switch my day off and just reschedule the things I planned to do that day. But now it's a matter of principle. Why should I rearrange my plans to go to a party that clearly no one cares if I attend?

I'm upset. I'm frustrated. And I want out.

I have worked SO HARD at BOTH of my jobs, and NEITHER appreciates me. Instead, they wave goodbye to me with the backs of their hands.

I'm ready to leave now.


May others appreciate the work that you do.

~A~


P.S. I have been told three times in the last week that I remind people of Marisa Tomei circa "My Cousin Vinnie" when I play Hot Cocoa in TnT.

You're All Invited!

As most of you know, I am heading down to Florida to get my MFA in Acting. I will be moving sometime between August 11-15 (not 100% certain yet). My last day at my day job will be August 1, and my last night of Tony n' Tina's Wedding will most likely be August 9 (so if you want to see me in that, you'd better hurry up and go!).

So, I'm throwing myself a going-away party, and I wanted to invite all my readers, lurkers, dot-comrades, and bloggy buddies!

Want to meet me before I leave?
Want to see me one last time?
Want an excuse to hit a bar?

If you answered yes to any of the above, HERE IS YOUR CHANCE!!!

So here is the party information:

Wednesday, August 6th
9:00pm - 1:00am (or something like that)

THE SPOT
4437 N Broadway
Chicago, IL


So here's the deal... The party is at a bar called The Spot. There will be karaoke on two floors (but don't worry, I won't make you participate if you don't want to... but I sure will!). Everyone that comes in and mentions they are here to celebrate my going-away party drinks $3 beers, $4 cocktails and $5 specialty drinks ALL NIGHT LONG, so that's a nice bonus. There is also apparently a patio, so you can drink outside if you want to get away from the karaoke.

The bar tells me that there is valet for $10, and they validate if you stay out past 1:00am (but it's on a Wednesday, so I don't expect any of you to stay out that late... But if you want to, I will. After all, I won't have work in the morning).

Also note: I will be drinking. This is a rare event, so if you'd like to see an intoxi-tipsy version of me, that's just an added incentive.

To RSVP: Please email angelaboration@gmail.com

May you be in Chicago and free on August 6th!

~A~


Note: The above picture is me, sober. Just imagine how awesome I am after a couple of drinks!

Stranger in My Own Town

I have been having one of the most fun weekends in recent memory. And I've loved every minute of it. (Well, except for the minute where I cried in front of my boss... but we'll get to that.)

On Thursday, I officially watched Sister Terry for the first time in a performance as opposed to a rehearsal. And, I have to say, it was beyond bizarre. First off, when you're watching a character, you don't go out during the pre-show, and I was rather sad about it. It's so fun being able to interact with the audience in character. I didn't realize I'd become that attached to the opportunity, but I have.

Then I got to sit in on the ceremony, which is a part of the show that I haven't seen since I attended a performance before being hired. It was neat to see that again. I'd forgotten a lot of what happens during it.

The strangest part was the reception. I've become accustomed to performing certain tasks during every performance. I usually take certain things upon myself, like standing guard to prevent audience members from getting in the way of a chase sequence, or pre-setting certain props. But when you're in training for a character, you sit at a table at the back of the room and observe. You're not supposed to lift a finger. And the first time you watch, you're not even supposed to take notes. You just have to keep your eyes glued to the character you're watching (even at the times when they're just ad-libbing). I kept wanting to assist my fellow Black Staffers, but had to supress the urges. What a strange thing that is, the desire to work when you don't have to.

Friday night, I had arranged for two of my favorite people to come see the show: my college buddy Renee and my dotcomrade-turned-friend Jenn.

Before the show, there was a complication with reserving their tickets. This led to me having an irrational emotional breakdown in front of the stage manager, the director, and the director's mother who runs things. So basically, my three bosses (or the three people who have the ability to fire me). Yeah. Not the most professional thing. It was horribly embarrassing. Especially when the director's mother loudly asked if I was on my period (for the record, NO... I was just a little sleep-deprived).

I played my Hot Cocoa character (although I grabbed the wrong name tag, so they thought I was just a really ghetto Carmella or something). And my buddy Dan (perhaps my favorite person in the cast to play off of) was playing Vito. Usually, Vito and Hot Cocoa have a pretty volatile relationship, as we've decided that they're exes. But on Friday, they were both pretty into each other. I can't tell you how many times I got felt up on Friday night. Or how many times I turned my head and noticed that Vito was standing behind me checking out my rear. Or how many times I was being grabbed without warning. And at one point, we were talking with our faces so close to each other that I actually got lip gloss on him (on his mouth, I think... awkward. Does that count as a kiss? SUPER awkward.)

As soon as the show ended, Renee, Jenn, and I went off to the sensabulously amazical (yes, I just made up words -- want to fight about it?) huge Chicago Blogger Meet-up that we've been anticipating for what seems like years. To be honest, I'm sure I can't even remember everyone I met... Here's who I remember being there:

- Angela (um, that'd be me)
- Angie (angilio)
- Dan (Dan Mega)
- "Deutlich" (Speak On It)
- Jamie (Oh! How Lovely!)
- Jenn (You are flawed if you are not free.)
- Jessi (The Everyday Adventures of Me in the City)
- "Joy" (Big Time Fancy)
- "Kayleigh" (No Guts, No Glory)
- Maxie (i hate so much...)
- Pete (the situation has deteriorated)
- "Princess Pointful" (...and hijinks ensued)
- Rachel (I'm a mom in real life)
- Renee (A Beautiful Day in the Reneeborhood)
- Veronica (unemployed Cornellian)

Forgive me if I've forgotten anyone (and remind me!). But did you SEE that list? When was the last time you saw a roster of a blogger meet-up that had that many people on it? I'd have to go with... never. Which proves, once and for all, that the Chicago blogger community (at least within the sub-group of Twenty Something Bloggers) is the most social.

Actually, I shouldn't use this as an example. After all, it was only because we were hosting out-of-towners that the evening was so successful (Renee, Deutlich, Maxie, and Princess Pointful all had to roadtrip in).

We met at a bar, and talked up a storm. Pete and Joy discussed "Call of Duty". Dan Mega and Jenn explained their tattoos to each other. Renee, Maxie, and Deutlich discussed recent happenings on the 20sb forum. Everything flowed smoothly and without any detectable awkward moments. It felt like we all knew each other already (because, well, we did).

Afterward, nine of us continued on to Clarke's to grab some grub and be generally ridiculous. I got a baked apple pancake thing. It was massive, and served with 5 packets of butter, but no syrup. I ate about a fifth of it before giving up entirely and just singing along with Maxie to whatever songs were playing while we dined. It was delightful.

Dan Mega, talking with his hands at Clarke's

The next morning, I met up with Deutlich, Maxie, Jenn, Jessi, and Jamie to go on the Chicago Cupcake crawl that has been in the works for months. We started out at a desert shop called Sweet Mandy B's, which was cute as a button, but busy as all get-out.

Me, Jenn, Jessi, Maxie, Jamie, and Deutlich's arm. (Deutlich has been cut out to preserve her anonymity... she's like a superhero, and only a select few can know her true identity.)

From there, we headed on to Swirlz Cupcakes, which I think we'd all agree was the winner of the outing. The people there were delightful, and the cupcakes were delicious. Deutlich and I were both having difficulty deciding between the "Banana Nutella" and the "Chocolate Peanut Butter", so we decided to get one of each and split them. And they were both just sensational. When the woman running the shop found out we were a group of bloggers, she gave us some extra cupcakes for free so that we could share our knowledge with our readers. She gave us a gluten-free red velvet cupcake that tasted no different from the regular red velvets we already had on our table (so note: if you know anyone with a gluten allergy, this is the place to take them!). We savored our cupcakes and giggled like little girls. I loved it.

Cupcakes from Swirlz

Jamie enjoying a cupcake.

Jessi & Jenn

Jenn, Me, Deutlich, Maxie, and Jamie

After that, we headed to The Taste of Chicago, which happens to be going on this week. It was a madhouse. The streets are filled with booths of food from various restaurants, and you trade tickets for various confections. I had a nutella crepe. Maxie had tempura. Jessi, Jenn, and Jamie had hotdogs. I don't remember what Deutlich ended up with... I just remember her distress at being unable to get a turkey leg because the wait was too long.



Walking through The Taste

Maxie, Jenn, and Jessi in front of Buckingham Fountain.

The best part of having tourists in town? It provides a marvelous excuse to do all the touristy things that I've never done in the two years of living in this city. And so, for the first time, I went to Millennium Park.

Deutlich in front of The Bean

There were lighted faces on brick walls that spat water at us. There was a giant Bean that reflected us like a fun house mirror. There was a garden. There was a trench of cold water to kick our feet in. It was magical.

Jenn & Maxie standing in the water between the spitting brick wall face things.

Jenn dipping her foot into the icy cold water of the foot bath trench

Jessi, Jenn, Maxie, and Jamie at the foot trench.

I left my darling ladies in order to get a special rehearsal for TnT to learn choreography in case become a bridesmaid before Frankie Avalon week (odds of that actually happening: slim to none... or just none). It was some of the cheesiest choreography you've ever seen in your life, and I LOVE it. Hilarious. And because I had gotten there so early, I also got fitted for a Sister Terry costume. I can't begin to tell you how stoked/amped/geeked/pumped I am about that.

I then watched through the show, taking notes. It's unbelievable how many things happen during the course of the production. Depending on where you're sitting in the room, you'll get a different sense of the story. I've done something like eight or nine weekends now, and while I was watching on Saturday I saw things for the first time. Like one character going through the purse of another when she wasn't paying attention. Or a male character kissing a female character, causing her to run out of the reception hall in hysterics. Or a male character lifting up his shirt and displaying his nipples proudly to a table of women in the audience (I'm fairly certain that doesn't happen every show). It's so much fun to be a part of a production like this, in which you're constantly being surprised by the other actors. It forces you to pay attention to everything, and to always react in character.

After the show, I met up with the bloggers again. But at that point, Jamie had been replaced by Dan Mega and a guy named Stan at a Giordano's. We sat around talking about anything and everything, as bloggers are prone to do. After we left, Jenn and I purchased hoodies at a Walgreens because of the unexpected chill in the night air. I got a lovely piggy-back ride, courtesy of Dan Mega, which made me and my tired feet extremely happy. And we ended up chilling at a bar in Lincoln Park for awhile longer.

It felt like no one really wanted our time together to end. Even after we'd all decided to go home and had begun to go on our separate ways, I ended up on the corner of Belmont and Clark talking to Dan Mega and Jessi for an additional 40 minutes in the rain. That's how much we enjoyed each other's company; we kept extending our goodbyes.

A glorious transvestite and her posse, as observed by Dan Mega, Jessi, and I on the corner of Belmont & Clark.

I should've gone to the Gay Pride Parade today to support the Tony 'n Tina's cast members who were walking in it, but I didn't. I stayed inside, doing very little of anything, and reflecting on how much fun I've had in the last few days.

I love summer. I love bloggers. I love Chicago. And I'm so very, very happy right now.

My heart feels full, not broken.

And for that, I'm grateful.

So thank you, to all the glorious bloggers who made me smile this weekend.


May you be a tourist in your own town.

~A~


P.S. You know my coworker who thought I looked like Lindsay Lohan? She has now changed her mind and thinks I look like Stella McCartney. Um, what? No, I don't.

P.P.S. I will be adding links to everyone else's versions of the Blogger events as I stumble across them:

- Jenn's version: Only the Best Weekend Ever
- Dan Mega's blurbs: Well and Sometimes
- Jessi's version: Olympic glory & a blog-errific weekend
- Angie's mention: how i love my lists
- Joy's version: Chicago Bloggers, Wedding & Beer Pong
- Rachel's version: How to be late meeting a Chicago blogger
- Pete's mention: high ate us
- Deutlich's version: Boystown and Booty Grease
- Maxie's version: Chicago!
- Princess Pointful's version: When bloggers collide- Parts 3, 4 and 5

Chameleon

As I prepared you for in my last post, I've again started dealing with a facet of myself that I don't particularly care for.

I'm a chameleon.

I adapt easily. I am fully willing to change.

Doesn't immediately sound like a bad thing, does it?

But it is.

It comes out in relationships. I have a tendency to mold myself into whatever it is I think the other person wants. And, as a result, I sometimes lose sight of who I am and what it is that I want.

I do whatever the other person wants to do. I watch movies that I have no interest in watching. I listen to music that I would never listen to otherwise. Hell, I watched Monday Night RAW (yeah, that's right... professional wrestling) sitting on a couch next to my then-boyfriend for about a year.

And I liked it.

Or I thought I did. At the time.

I even had a favorite character (Edge). And favorite moves. And I knew all the back-stories of all the wrestlers (both the performers AND their characters).

But I don't know if I ever actually liked it. I don't think that I ever really enjoyed listening to U2, watching Mr. Show, or suffering through The Fast and the Furious with my exes. What I was actually deriving pleasure from was making them happy. Seeing how excited they were that they had finally found someone with whom they could share this thing that they loved? That was the real magic.

Maybe it has something to do with me being an actor. Maybe I crave the opportunity to play these roles. Maybe I just have low self-esteem. Or maybe I think that it's impossible to find someone who I'll actually have things in common with, so I find ways to synthesize that.

When I recently discussed this with a coworker, he said that all relationships are like that. That there's a level of give and take. A balance. And that you each spend time giving the things that the other person likes a chance.

Unfortunately, my male counterparts are usually not as eager to contort to my favorite things as I am to them.

Brian was different, to some extent. We had aligned tastes in music from the get-go. We were excited to learn new music from each other. To look at it honestly, I think I was probably more excited to hear his music than he was to hear mine. And I shared mine with him more frequently than he sent any back... But still, it was a start.

And here I am, watching his collection of Battlestar Galactica, trudging through episodes I don't like, while he holds my copies of Arrested Development and The Office somewhere in the desert. We share these things even now, after all that's happened... We're learning to like things that the other person liked first.

It's more out of friendship now, I guess. I hope. I think I'm watching this show at a friend's recommendation. It's not because I'm semi-consciously trying to be the perfect girl for him.

Yet, I can't help but wonder... Am I watching because I like it, or because on some level I think it'll make Brian happy if I like it?

The honest answer is that I don't know.

And that scares me.

Here's another weird thing... Brian got me interested in the music of Kara DioGuardi and her band, Platinum Weird. And I know, I KNOW, that I genuinely like that music. But I haven't been able to listen to it since I left Nebraska. I skip over it as soon as it comes on my iTunes.

So how come this thing that I actually enjoy is something that I'm now removing from my life, and this other thing that I only like sometimes doesn't bother me at all? What's the difference?

Maybe it's because I listened to Kara's music WHILE I was with Brian, whereas BSG only really entered my life when I was in Nebraska. Maybe, somehow, BSG doesn't remind me of him as much?

The girl sighs.

Why can't I tell the difference between things I like and the things I try to like because other people do? Is it just because I'm good at convincing myself of things?

I don't always know who I am or what I want. I've always been willing to sit through things I didn't like if my friends did. Heck, the thing that got me on stage back in 6th grade was my best friend auditioning for the musical. I thought I should do it, too. The whole reason I'm on the career path that I'm on was because I was pretending to like something that someone else liked, and it just sort of stuck.

In the movie Runaway Bride (I've never seen it in its entirety and I'm splicing together fragments here, so please forgive inaccuracies), the main character is like me, but in an extreme form. She molds herself so closely to the desires of whatever man she's with that she never really knows who she is or what she wants. She doesn't even know how she likes her eggs, because she's so used to eating them however the current male in her life does.

That's how I feel sometimes. I question whether I like eggs at all. (Metaphorically speaking, that is.)

There's another problem I can spot from this behavioral pattern. One that might be worse...

I have this semi-conscious desire to be the "cool girlfriend". So I put up with a lot. I convince myself that I'm not bothered by things that should, by all means, bother me. Like the time that my long-distance boyfriend didn't return my calls for three weeks straight, and I said, "That's okay. I know you've been really busy lately." Or the times that I've let a relationship go undefined for too long because I didn't want to pressure the guy into submitting to a label, and then felt used when it turned out we hadn't been in the same place mentally. Or how I kept dating a guy after he didn't return my phone calls on our 2nd anniversary.

Why? Because I was trying to be the kind of girlfriend I thought I should be. The kind I wish I were. Completely laid back, low-maintenance, and cool. I pretend to be that girl a lot. I feel like I SHOULD be that girl. I want to be her. And so I act like I'm more okay with things than I am. I try to convince myself that things are fine, when clearly I don't actually feel that way. I ignore my instincts a great deal because I feel like I'm being the whiny shrew in the relationship if I don't, and that's not what I want to be.

I don't know why I do it. Maybe it's because I have low self-esteem. On some level, maybe I feel like no one will ever love me as I am. So I try to be something that they will love. I try to do all the things I think they'll want me to do.

Also, I never fall first. I only go after guys that I already know are interested in me. Low-hanging fruit, I suppose (please forgive the corporate buzzword). I guess I'm so shocked by the idea that anyone could want me that I WANT to want them back. And we already know that I'm good at talking myself into things. Add this to the list.

How horrible is that? Maybe every feeling I've ever had has been one I convinced myself to have.

I can't keep doing this stuff. I can't. I deserve better than to settle for someone just because they want me. I shouldn't have to put my needs on hold in order to be the cool, low-maintenance girlfriend. I shouldn't have to be the only one trying to adapt. And I definitely shouldn't pretend to be someone I'm not.

But I'm not sure that I know how to stop.



May you be happy being you.

~A~


P.S. I'm watching Sister Terry twice this weekend in TnT. Woo-hoo!

P.P.S. Renee and Jenn are coming to see TnT tomorrow night, and I'm super excited!

P.P.P.S. I'm also going out with a bar to meet up with a thousand bloggers tomorrow night, and then on a cupcake crawl on Saturday. Best weekend ever? Quite possibly. :)

Everything's Swell

You know what sucks? Being sick. I am so not a fan.

I started feeling it Wednesday after the TnT matinee, on my way the Swell Season concert with my friend Amanda. We had stopped at a Thai restaurant for dinner and I was filling her in on my entire situation with Brian (the three of us went to high school together and she knows what a good guy he is... it's nice to be able to discuss the situation with someone who doesn't assume that he's the bad guy).

The Swell Season (a.k.a. Glen Hansard and Markéta Irglová, a.k.a. the people from Once who won the Oscar for their song "Falling Slowly" in February) was tremendously good live. Glen did some splendid, insane storytelling between songs. A couple of times it felt like it spent more time setting up the meaning of the songs than it took to actually play them.

One of the songs he said was about the manner in which we face obstacles. He said sometimes you come up to a wall, knowing that what you want is on the other side. And at some point, after realizing you can't climb over it, you have to turn your back on the wall and just start walking in the opposite direction. You walk, and you walk, and you walk... until eventually you walk all the way around the world, and you find yourself on the other side of the wall.

I'm not entirely sure what he was talking about, but it was a neat metaphor.

At another point they were singing a song about the moon, and he started talking about staring at the moon, and how he thought there was some truth to the origin of the word "lunacy" (luna = moon...), and that if you stare into a mirror you start to forget who you are... I don't know. He rambled into madness. It reminded me of watching Hamlet. :)

One of his stories involved falling in love with a Goth chick in high school, and buying her a grave in a cemetery for Christmas one year. And he stood down in a hole in the ground, wanting to ask her to marry him, but deciding he should ask something bigger and more important than that... So he asked her if she would be buried next to him.

My favorite bit of his rambling had to do with the tarot card "The Fool". I don't know anything about tarot (I'm Catholic, so I'm fairly certain it's against my religion), but he said The Fool was the most respected card, and that we should all aspire to The Fool. After all, The Fool serves his most immediate needs as they arise. Glen said the coolest people he's ever met were either children or old people. The rest of us spend our lives strategizing, planning, manipulating, analyzing... Whereas the very young and the very old will just think something like... "I'm hungry". They serve their immediate needs, and they don't worry about the mess outside of them.

During "Falling Slowly", their most famous song, Glen mildly screwed up the lyrics at one point. He blamed it on the fact that there was a special person in the audience: Barack Obama. Everyone started craning their necks in the massive Chicago Theater trying to get a glimpse of him. I assume the Senator was watching from backstage, and we were all wasting our time. Still, it was neat to be in the same place as a presidential nominee. The fact that Obama and I listen to the same music sorta makes me like him more. (Not that I would vote based on musical opinion...)

After the concert I had planned to go see my DJ coworker headline at a club, but I felt too miserable. I ended up using one of the precious few vacation days I have left and staying home sick on Thursday. I had a horrible sore throat and a bad fever. I was so tired that I couldn't even sit on my bum and watch Battlestar Galactica. I couldn't even swallow (that's what she said).

My fever broke around 4pm. And despite the fact that I still felt truly awful, I went to the Air One Blogger Meet-up that I'd been looking forward to for so long. I got to hang out with my favorite J-ladies: Jenn, Jessica, and Joy. We sat around eating free food that the airline had provided for us and talking about everything and nothing. It was exactly what I needed.

Jessica & Joy

Jenn & Me (don't I just look like the picture of health?)

Delicious food at Gioco.

My favorite J-ladies.

I'd tell you more about the meet-up, but I'm sick, tired, and generally lazy. So go read Jenn's version, Jessica's version (which includes her own Swell Season experience), or Joy's version.

I spent most of Friday and Saturday running on fumes and speaking in the "sexy Kathleen Turner voice" that often accompanies ailments to my throat. Made my character in Tony 'n Tina's a little different, that's for sure. But I still gave it my all.

Friday night I went out with the cast to a bar, and spent a little time talking to the Guy-Who-Asked-Me-Out (hmmm... want to refrain from using his real name... GWAMO will do as code for now, okay?). I decided to tell him the guarded secret that I'm leaving Chicago for greener pastures come August. I've now gone through full disclosure with this guy. He knows I'm leaving. He knows about Brian. He knows that I'm an emotional f***wit right now. Therefore, any and all attempts to win me over past this point I declare to be at his own risk. If he's been listening, he should know what he's getting himself into.

Saturday night I went to a dance-y bar called "The Hangge Uppe" with my dear friend Dave (who got me good and drunk right a few weeks ago, as noted in Getting Through It). It was the first time I've been out dancing since the last time that Dave took me there. That was a year ago June. The week after I broke up with Ex #1. I got very, very drunk, and cried when some drunk guy stepped on my foot (although the tears had more to do with my inner turmoil than the immediate physical pain).

GWAMO joined us, as did my friend John (a good friend I haven't seen since December, as mentioned in Dialogues & Somniloquies), and three of Dave's friends (one of whom was a girl who seemed rather interested in Dave). We danced. Well, no... I danced. And I forced the rest of them to dance with me. And I had fun. I think they did, too.

I stuck with cherry cola all night, remembering the last time I had been at The Hangge Uppe. By the end of the evening, the girl who was into Dave was very, very drunk. She stepped on my foot. Hard. In heels. While I was in sandals. It reminded me of the event that made me cry a year ago when I was going through a different sort of heartbreak with a different sort of guy. But I didn't cry this time. Maybe I've gotten it all out of my system. Maybe I'm a stronger person now than I was a year ago. Maybe I just have better control of my emotions when I'm sober. Or maybe I really have made progress on this journey of healing. All I know for sure is that I have a nasty bruise covering the tops of two of my toes, and I didn't cry.

I felt nastily ill on Sunday, so I stayed cloistered in my apartment and watched more episodes of Battlestar Galactica than a person should watch in one day.

I loved the second season, but didn't love the season finale. And hated the first few episodes of season three. I didn't really want to continue watching, but I did anyway. I felt like I was supposed to. And, lo and behold, the middle of season three improved massively. I love it again.

As I battled through the less interesting episodes, I remembered a realization I've had about myself in the past. A not too pleasant one, actually...

But I'm going to save that explanation for next time. I'm too sick to properly psycho-analyze myself.



May you take the time to recover from whatever ails your mind, heart, body, and soul.

Much love and many blessings to you.

~A~

Words Will Be Enough

I had to stop blogging for a bit. To collect my thoughts. To prevent myself from writing things I'd regret. To live life instead of thinking about life.

I was wrong a few posts ago when I said I was done crying. I wasn't. I've cried a few times since then. I'd like to say I'm done now -- I feel like I am -- but I won't make that promise. I'll feel completely fine for long periods of time, and then suddenly feel wrong again. I woke up Saturday feeling fine, and I've been okay since then. Hopefully it'll stick this time.

I could tell you what's happened with Brian in excruciating detail, but I won't. It's not going to help me heal. And it's not helping him any, either. I know he'll understand if I continue to write about him. He'll support my right to use this blog to vent. And I won't stop altogether, because that's not my style. But this blog isn't about him. It's about me.

I will tell you one thing about him... He's gone.

I don't mean from my life; I mean from the country. He's in the armed forces, and he is now on another continent. For a while.

It's probably the best possible thing that could happen for me right now. I can't call him and ask him the same questions ad nauseum (the sorts of "but why?" questions that he's been so kind as to put up with thus far). I can't text him. He was never in reach, but I feel like he's finally been put at a distance. And it's exactly the sort of aid I've needed to get over him. The kind I haven't had before. I'm glad for it. Almost relieved, in fact, that some of the decisions I would've made are being prevented. It'll help us to be friends in the long run.

I'm going to write him letters while he's gone, but I'm not expecting responses. He's going to become my "Mr. Henshaw". I'll write the things I need to write without worrying who's reading them the way I do with this blog. I know I can tell him anything, because I already have. And not having regular responses will be good for me. Not having written things to look back on and agonize over, but rather ones sent off into the void... also good. I hope he doesn't get annoyed by the whole thing. But I'm not too worried about that. I think he'll be happy for any contact he has to the USA while he's gone.

Other than the little I've scribbled to him so far, I haven't written anything lately. I haven't worked on my novel because my emotions were clouding those of my characters. I just kept wanting to kill off characters. Or create situations in which the main character was feeling what I'm feeling. I'm taking space from it so that I won't ruin it. I care too much about what I've written so far to muck it up by using it as therapy.

I'm actually supposed to go to a write-in tonight, where I was planning on picking it up again. But it's been so long since I've just been home for a night... so I'm skipping it. And I'm blogging instead.

I forgot that I missed this. Writing, I mean. It's only been, what, 9 days since I wrote a real post (I'm not counting that filler thing about what celebrities I get compared to... wasn't really my style)? I'm sure many of you didn't even notice the absence (which is fine... I read so many blogs that I often don't notice when people stop posting for weeks at a time). But I noticed it. I've considered forcing myself to blog, but I'm terribly against that. I've said it before, and I'll say it again; I don't blog for you guys, I blog for me. And if I have nothing to say, then I'm not going to say anything at all.

And when I have a lot to say? Well, then you get the mini-novellas that I'm sure you've come to expect from me.

Actually, it feels like longer since I've posted, as I was making a conscious effort not to mention Brian. Censoring myself makes it feel like I'm not really writing at all. It feels too... calculated or something. I don't know.

I have been busy, though. I mean, I've made time to blog in the past when I was busy, but I've had enough distractions that I was able to convince myself that I didn't have time for it. I've been going out and visiting people. I go out to the bar with the TnT cast after every performance.

When I'm not out of my apartment, I'm watching Battlestar Galactica and writing notes for Brian about my reactions to the episode. It's like live-blogging, but with paper and pen. Whenever something pops into my head that I would've texted Brian (or said to him if he'd been in the room), I pause the DVD and write it down. It takes longer to watch an episode than it normally would, but it's kinda fun for me. Makes it feel like an active thing as opposed to just sitting around watching DVDs all day. (By the way, it's an INCREDIBLE show, and I highly recommend it. Also recommend Firefly, which is the other series Brian lent me before running off to fight the bad guys.)

I've started reading It's Called a Break-up Because It's Broken, and I HIGHLY RECOMMEND IT if you've gone through any sort of break-up and/or heartbreak, even if you were the one who did the dumping. I wish I'd had it during my break-up with Ex #1. It's really, really helpful. Of course, the authors of the book would tell me to stop writing to Brian, but I think I've recovered enough that it's possible to do it now. The hurting I was going through before has lessened significantly. And letter-writing doesn't make me cry the way phone calls would have. It feels like it's helping me heal. I'm gaining closure, and I'm redefining our relationship as one of friendship. In some weird way, it's helping me let go. Counter-intuitive, I know... but I believe that you should "do what works", so I'm going to keep doing it as long as it's working. If it's not working, then I'll become a better student of the book and stop writing him altogether.

(Huh. Wasn't planning to talk about Brian at all, and here I've done mostly that. Ah well. This is where my extemporaneous style brings me, I suppose. Writing about things I didn't intend to write about.)

Anyway.

I'm frustrated that I still have not been assigned a character to train for in Tony n' Tina's. Remember when the director had me watch the nun at a rehearsal? Yeah, that didn't stick. He gave me a new character to watch at last week's rehearsal, bringing my total up to three. I don't think he has any clue what he wants me for. Maybe that's a compliment. I'm versatile, and he knows he can put me in a bunch of places? I don't know. I'm just worried that he's going to keep changing his mind and I'll be on waitstaff until the day I leave.

Speaking of leaving, it's coming up soon. I'm leaving my day job on August 1st. I'll probably stay in TnT for a week after that. But my lease here ends August 15th, and my grad school orientation starts on August 18th. When I originally got this offer from grad school back in February, it seemed so very, very far away. And now it's almost here, and I have so many things to try to squeeze in before I leave.

Part of me feels like a lot has happened since February. But really, I can sum it up in two subjects: Brian, and TnT. That's it. That's all that's changed. I mean, of course I'm over-simplifying (as the last few months worth of blog posts can attest to), but that's the meat of it...

Anyway.

I've made good friends at work recently. Three guys at my day-job eat lunch with me every day now. It's nice to be just one of the guys without having to worry about any of them being The Woodwork Guys. Two are engaged, and the third has a serious girlfriend whom he intends to marry. So for once, I'm the one who carries the label As Good As Gay (or, I suppose, As Good As Male). And I'm just fine with that.

We talk about things that could get us fired if mentioned at the office under the clauses of the sexual harassment policy in place, but that doesn't bother us. For someone of my level of naïveté, I'm not very shy about subjects I'm willing to broach in public settings. Maybe it's because I don't know better... In any case, it makes me fit right in when surrounded by guys with filthy minds and raunchy mouths. That, and the fact that I will jump right in when gauging the physical attractiveness with females in close proximity (the guys call this rating procedure "verifications"). And sometimes before heading back to work, we take a detour through a department store cologne section so that the boys can "musk up". And we have a large collection of private jokes that we discuss in code on our work email accounts. It makes the day go by a bit faster.

I watched the Tony Awards at a bar on Sunday night. I talked the bartender into changing the channel on one of the many televisions dedicated to sports for me. I cheered obnoxiously whenever people I liked were shown. ("You go, Deanna Dunagan! Bring it home to Chicago, baby!") I actually know someone who won a Tony this year, which is exciting. Todd Rosenthal won for set design for the play August: Osage County. He designed the set for a production of The Comedy of Errors that I was in a couple of years back, which is how I know him (not well, but still, I know him in real life). I'd call to congratulate him, but I lost his number when I lost my phone... Oh well.

This was the first time in the past 5 years that I have not donned some sort of fancy dress to watch the Tonys. If I owned a television, I would have. I intend to again in future years. It makes the whole thing more fun if you dress up.

Last night I hung out with some of my novelist friends in the 'burbs playing the video game Rock Band and generally acting like idiots. It was a good time. Of course, I didn't get back to my apartment until nearly 2:30am, and then had a couple of emails that I urgently had to answer... I was pretty useless at work today as a result.

Tomorrow will be intense. I'm going to my day-job from 8:30-11:00am. I have to be at TnT at 11:30am to get ready for a matinee. Then at night, my friend Amanda and I are going to see The Swell Season (Glen Hansard & Markéta Irglová, a.k.a. the people from Once who won an Oscar for "Falling Slowly" this year). And after that, I promised I'd go see my coworker (one of the engaged ones) work his night gig: he's headlining as a DJ at some bar.

Thursday I'm going to the "Air One - Blogger Meet Up Chicago" (note: if you are a Chicago blogger and haven't heard about this, let me know and I'll get you the info... there will be hors d'oeuvre's, cocktails and an Italian lesson at the event... and potentially some SWAG), which I've been looking forward to for awhile.

Friday and Saturday I have TnT performances. Sunday will be my first real free day since... Well, I think since I was in Omaha. That'll be nice. It'll give me more time to watch Battlestar Galactica.

Wow. It felt really good to just type all of that. I have a feeling it was painfully boring, but I don't care. I needed to organize my thoughts. I need this.

I love being a blogger.

*sigh*

I feel better.

Alright, I'm going to go watch a little BSG, clean my apartment (yeah, right), and go to bed early (probably a lie).


May you be able to write your cares away.

~A~



P.S. The title is from the song "All the Words" by The Bridges. Their album just came out, and you should totally buy it. They rock. Hard.

P.P.S.
All the words that you said
Made you matter in my head
I was tied to the thought of you
Thinkin’ back to the day
That I found you on my way
To a place I was goin’ to

Simplify all these years
In another round of tears
I’m so lost when it comes to you
Broken in and again
Now you’re everywhere I’ve been
So it’s hard to deny the view

Did you know I had you goin’?
You got your heart back
It was stolen
And there’s nothin’
I can do at all

And it’s still there
On the road we had
And it’s alright
Keep the memories tied to your heart dear
And the words will be enough
~ The Bridges, "All the Words"