Technically Considered a Rough Day

It began at about 6pm.

I was just about to head over to class to get in some pre audition reads with my partner, when my cell rang.

It was BU. She was calling me back.

Not ready to speak to her directly, I let it go to message. As I was packing up and heading out the door, this is what she said.

Hey, good to hear from you. Thanks for calling. I'm fine. I'm sort of an old fashioned girl, and when a guy doesn't call me back for two weeks, I sort of write him off. It's cool, no problem. I had a fun time with you, but if a guy doesn't call a girl back in two weeks, that pretty much spells it out. I'll see you around. Have a good year. Goodbye.

So, that is that. She is right, it does spell it out. I was calling her partly because I felt obligated. Now, it is done. Wish it had gone different, but still, I'm glad it didn't. I might have doubted it if it were good. Now, I can go forward.

Still, it did feel like a dump. Strange, it was a dump by someone you already dumped, but a dump all the same.

Then, at the class audition, my teacher said that we would come into the room, read for the agents, take a question, then leave. If we bombed it, he would give an adjustment. Yikes. He said he would only do that if we really bombed, because he didn't want to mess with a good thing.

I was fourth. People were going in and coming out all excited. They were doing well. The night was going strong. Just before going in, I said to myself, Fuck it. Go do this.

I walked in, did my read. Noticed one agent pull my picture out as I was reading. Thought that should be a good sign. Finished.

Then, it happened.

He said he was going to give me an adjustment.

AAAGGGHHH. Death.

I smiled. Took the note. He said go faster. Pick up the pace.

Did it. Felt it went good.

Came out.

Everyone eyed me. Well, well? Told them he gave me an adjustment. Their mouths dropped. No!

Everyone went in to read. The night ended. He brought us into the room after the agents read. Went one by one and told us how we did, and what they thought.

Everyone was loved. You did great. You'll get a call.

It came to me.

He said, Honestly, you blew it. They thought you were green.

My classmates gasped. One said, No.

I tried to give you a second shot, but you didn't really take the note. Not a bad read, just not enough.

I poured myself a tumbler of some of the extra wine. Fuck it, indeed. Me and agents. Sheesh.

The class wanted to go out and celebrate. Sorry, not me. I gotta go see my ex wife.

Got into my car and burst into tears.

Drove out to her school. On the way, she called and asked if I could pick up some more beer.

Sure.

Got to her school. Called to say I was there. Needed help with the beer. Loud music from the dj. She couldn't hear me. Told me the doors were open. I shouted I needed help. She couldn't hear me.

Her friend J came out and greeted me. Said she couldn't lift the beer due to a back injury. Turned to go get someone.

I grabbed a couple and walked in. On my way, two guys nodded, and I pointed them to the car with the beer on the roof.

Got inside. X was there. Told me she couldn't hear me. Uh-huh. Where to put the beer? Then, she was gone.

I put the beer in an office. The two guys came in, and said, You're putting it here?

I don't know where to put it. Put it wherever.

I grabbed a bottle as they took it away. Walked out into the party. Loud music. People dancing, people milling about. Nobody coming over to me.

What am I doing? I should just leave.

Then I saw.

X was standing by a guy. I knew right away. It was him. She was too free, and too close. He was nervous. Looked like Richard Dreyfuss in The Goodbye Girl. Only Jewish. Bearded, glasses, nebbish.

Still nobody came to me.

What am I doing here? What am I doing?

Then she was there. Told me even though the gallery doors were closed, the gallery was still open. Told me to go on in. It was raining, and the roof was leaking, so she had to throw some plastic over it. Told me I would still be able to see it. Then she was gone.

I walked to the gallery. Opened the door and walked in.

There before me was a 36 foot boat. Huge. Covered in plastic. Colorful. Jagged. Awkward. Amongst the muffled music could be heard a drip, drip, drip. Sounded like the creaking of an actual ship. It was quiet.

There was the boat.

When we split, X told me a story.

One of her favorite movies is Apocalypse Now. In it, Martin Sheen always says don't get outta the boat. Every time they do, something bad happens.

After we split, she was watching the movie, and she said she realized she had gotten outta the boat, but when she turned back, the boat was no longer there.

So, she built a boat.

There in that gallery, as I stood alone, with my ex talking to her new boyfriend, was my relationship, the boat, covered in plastic, and being dripped on.

Again, I burst into tears.

Made my way around the boat. Hid behind the plastic. I felt so small. I wanted to climb into the boat. I wanted to sail away, never to see anyone.

Then the gallery door opened.

Shit.

I peeked through the plastic. It was her friend, J. She asked if I liked it. I tried to wipe away the tears, and lower my voice from a crack as I said yes.

Still, she heard it.

You ok?

Yes. I thanked her for telling X to give me the heads up. She nodded. Asked if I needed a drink, saw my beer, nodded. We stood for a moment silent.

X came in. She was giddy. She had a great day. Everyone had been flattering her. I smiled.

This is why I came. To support her. Told myself to put myself aside. Told her I loved the piece. Told her I was proud of her.

Let's go dance she said to us all.

We went out.

J and another friend, E, stuck by me all night. They made sure I was alright. I fell in love with them for that last night.

The dj was playing The Clash, The Pixies, The Talking Heads, Iggy Pop, lots of punk and new wave.

E and I started to dance. Then, I went wild. I thrashed about. I threw off my jacket, and shortly after, my sweater. I sweated. I pounded. I stomped. I tried to get out everything inside.

I was electric. A girl actually came up and tried to hit on me. Didn't know who I was. I told her. She walked away.

I jumped and clapped and wiggled and kicked.

X would come and dance near me, but not with me. Not being rude, just being cautious. Polite, to him.

He stood in the corner all night long. As I went crazy and everyone at the school came by and talked with me, and her friends danced with me and shouted with me, I felt good.

I thought, Yeah, this is what she had. This crazy unpredictable bastard is what you are going to be compared to. Good luck.

At the end of the night, we walked to E apt to sleep. E had put her hand on my back and asked how I was doing. I said I was good. I smiled at her, and she back. I said I had my game face on. She nodded.

As we drifted off, X asked if it was tough on me tonight. Yes, I said. It was weird. She said she was sorry, but didn't know what else to do. I said she did just fine, but that it was weird no matter what would have happened.

How do you say, I still love you, but not enough to take you back.

Even if you would want me.

I slept hard. The floor hurt my ribs. The dancing probably didn't help either.

This morning, we got up early. Drove for breakfast with her family.

Her father, upon getting out of the car, strode right up to me and hugged me. Her mother the same.

I couldn't do this again. Goodbye was too early this morning, so I shifted. I turned on. I became the comedian, and all through breakfast had everyone laughing. I didn't shut off.

As we hugged goodbye, I choked up. I didn't say goodbye, but I felt it. I told them when I next swing through Davenport I would look them up. We laughed, but the sentence got hung up on reality and the laughter slowed down quicker than the moments before.

X and I drove back to the gallery.

She wanted me to see the piece without the plastic. I helped her take it off. The color sprang out. The immensity seemed even greater now that it was free. A man walked in off the street and looking at her piece exclaimed wow.

She asked me to read her statement.

The piece was entitled, After making some decisions, no matter how inconsequential, there is no going back.

She wrote how the boat was made with no blue print, no structure in mind. She worked on it in five separate pieces, never putting them together until the very end. She worked on each separate piece as if it was the only one, not considering the other pieces. She made each mark, every cut as it occurred to her.

Just like life.

Every decision is made in its own context. Every action taken in the moment. Then, after a while, all of these seemingly random meaningless actions add up and create a thing of significance.

I had always secretly wanted her to make a piece about me or us the entire time we were together. Now she had, and it was her best. But it was too late.

She said she had to go. We walked outside.

We stood there a moment looking at each other.

I wanted to say, I don't want to leave. Take me with you.

I wanted to hug her, and go have coffee with her, and then lay down and sleep. I was so tired and sad, and lonely. I wanted to say I'm sorry. But was I? Did I?

She asked if I was ok. I nodded. I was choking up. I couldn't hold it in. She asked if we needed to talk about this. I said no.

I told her I was proud of her. I told her I thought she was a success, and I wasn't only referring to the sculpture. She smiled weakly, and said thanks.

Then, I turned around and got into my car.

When I looked back, she was no longer there.

Like the boat. No longer there.

Now this might be awkward

So, tomorrow I am going to X's thesis show.

This is very important to her. It is what she has always wanted. This was all put into motion while we were still married. In fact, it is part of what broke us up. Her becoming true to herself, at the same time that I was inspired to do the same, caused both of us to realize that what was true for ourselves was not for the other, and so, split.

Awkward yet?

So, the real thing is, she is having her final art thesis show, and I promised to support her. It is bigger than her graduation.

I have a major acting class tomorrow night though. My teacher is bringing in five agents and managers because he wants all of us to be represented. Which is great. Very important to me. The true me.

So, I am going late to X's thesis show. Not getting there til about 10PM.

Here's where it gets weird.

Her family is going to be there and would like to see me. I would also like to see them. After all, the last time we saw each other was when we both went back right after we were married. So, the last time I saw them, they were starting to call me son, and now the next time I see them will be to say a goodbye, forever.

Slightly weird, but still regular family type weird.

Wait.

Because I am getting there so late, they will already be asleep. So, we have decided to have breakfast together. Which means, because it is an hour drive away, I am going to spend the night. In a sleeping bag, but still.

Ok, starting to get weird.

Going to my X's thesis show, to support her, and see my ex in laws, who will be asleep when I get there, so I am sleeping over, to then go to breakfast with them and say goodbye, or whatever you say.

Not normal. Weird.

Think I'm done yet.

Wrong. Weirder coming just around the corner.

So, X called me tonight to give me a "heads up".

Seems that she has gone on a couple of dates with a guy she met out at school, and he is going to be there tomorrow, and she wanted me to know ahead of time so that things didn't get weird.

He knows about me already. Now I know about him.

Oh, and we get to meet.

Then I get to sleep over!

Now, that's fucking weird.

I can't believe it.

I know I went on a date, and this is probably the same thing for her, but still.

WHY ISN'T SHE PINING AWAY FOR ME?!

That's ridiculous, but shit man. This is weird.

Fuck it. I'm just going to walk right up to him, and shake his hand hard and say, Yeah, well, I was intimate with James Bond's son!

That will show him who's who.

What have I got myself into?

I called her

Her being BU, the girl I had a date with two weeks ago.

I texted her the next day saying good time, and she wrote back let's do it again soon.

Then, I never called.

Partly because I was sick, and sound awful. Partly because I have NO time to take off and go out. Partly because enough was not there with her that to move mountains to do it again seems not worth it.

But...

She was nice and funny and pretty and likes things I like. So...

I have been having this recurring dream.

In it, I am sleeping in bed. I roll over to change positions, and wake a bit when I do. In waking and rolling, I realize there is a woman in bed with me. She has her back to me, and I can't make out who she is, but she is naked. So am I. I scoot closer to her, and spoon her, and I can feel the warmth of our bodies. She sleepily pushes her back into me and I put an arm over her and fall back to sleep.

That is the dream. Nothing crazy, but it sure does make me wake wishing it were true. It also drives me crazy that it isn't a specific someone.

So...

With that dream in my head, and some recent conversations with other guys about their girl dating activity, and nobody else to call, I called BU.

Also, the night my show closed, a guy who knows both of us told me she was wondering why I didn't call. I said I was sick. The guy didn't press it, he is smart not to get too much in to it, but I don't think the I'm sick defense is a sure one.

So, I called. I left a message. She hasn't called back. I don't think she will.

Which is great, actually.

Like I said there was too much not there between us for us to keep going. And if you go on a second date, then things start to change. Then you are committing. I mean most everyone knows you sleep together on the third, or the very least the fourth. So, I would be half way to naked on another date.

Also, if she is mad at me, and punishing me by not calling back, then my god, I don't want that in my life right now.

I want someone who is fun. Funny. Hangs out and laughs. Good looking, so I enjoy staring at her, but not drop dead. Someone who wants to sleep with me, but is also got too much in her life for a relationship right now.

Is that so tough?

I'm not going to call BU again.

Unless she calls me back. Then, we'll see. I mean how tantalizing was that sentence, I'm half way to naked!

Up and Away

So, our show ended last night.

God, what a good show it was. I nearly fell over laughing at my co stars. They were on last night. We had a HUGE house. The stairs were full of people sitting, and there was still people standing on the sides of the theatre. I'm guessing about 130 people in a 99 seater.

After the show, they announced the people who got moved up to the Zebra (advanced troupe) and I was one of them. That is cool. I hate to toot my own horn, but I deserved it.

Problem is, the current Zebra show runs for 4 more weeks, and the next show is already cast and it runs for 16 weeks, so I can't be in a Zebra show for 20 weeks, or 5 months to you and I.

So, I told my director that I would do the next Yankee show, because I don't want time off. So, I have to pay dues still to be a part of it, but so be it. I'm in Zebra, that's what matters.

Also heard from my friend that they are looking for a name actor for the movie role. Bummer. I really did what I wanted to do, and that was impress the casting director so that hopefully she will call me in for other stuff, but there was a part of me that thought what if.

It would have been cool. Imagine, maybe, me having my own trailer! How much would I fall down and laugh if I did a shoot, and they gave me a trailer.

All the actors in class always bitch about losing roles to name actors, so now I can go in and be like whine, whine, whine.

I love it.

I Almosht Losht It

So, I had my audition.

I think it went great. I felt going in that this was mine. I was confident.

Teachers always talk about going in and owning the room. I felt that today. I walked in and just was, and felt like I could do no wrong.

Connery, Jason Connery, was a small, nice looking, quiet man. He shook my hand, then sat in the corner. When it was time to read with me, he gave it his all. An actor's actor, you can tell.

He got to a line that reads, I'm not much for the social scene.

As it was going, I was trying to connect and match him to give a sense of intimacy and connection. I was listening to him.

When he said that line, he said it just like you would think his dad would. I'm not much for the shocshial shene.

Instantly, I saw a moment of hilarity. How funny to be seducing James Bond. Sheriously.

I almost lost it. Bad time. It was a real tender moment. I just breathed through it, and kept my cool.

Just like Bond would.

Now, I'm off to do the final episode of my improv show. It is prom tonight, and everybody is buzzing like it was a real prom.

Should I have gotten a boutiennere?

You Go Girl

Boy did she do it.

Shooz, my dear friend has gotten me an actual, bona fide audition.

For a real live movie.

She works with the casting people, and dropped my headshot with perfect timing.

I am going up for the role of a confident gay man, who is pursuing a less confident man.

The less confident man is the star, Jason Connery.

I am playing confident to James Bond's son! Me!

Actually, the role is good for me. Very sarcastic. Comic relief with tender vulnerability.

I am trying to approach it with my successful "fuck it" theory.

I have been analyzing the script and read through this morning with a friend. He said I needed to develop a stronger as if.

That's where you replace what you're doing or feeling in the scene with something that actually happened to you. It's "as if" that situation were happening again.

Rather than try to seduce Connery, I am using an as if person to seduce.

This may be telling, or not, but when he said get a good as if, I immediately thought of TO. So did he.

He knows about how I felt, but thinks it ended long ago. Still, she was the one he said I should use. Too bad she won't be at rehearsal tonight. I could use some recent memory material for tomorrow.

Well, still and all, the fuck it approach says just be glad to do this, and have a good time. So far, I'm right on track.

Me! Confident against Bond blood! Ha!

Random...

Not much in the mood to write today, but I have two hours until work, so not much to achieve until then.

No hot water here today, so no long, loving shower.

No movie quick enough, and worthwhile enough.

Could fill out the divorce papers, but really, that would be moving on, and somehow I can't do that right now.

So, I will write.

But about what?

Ain't got no love to bitch or brag about.

Deep thoughts are on the sad side, and not that deep, so what is the point. (I almost wrote paint, which might be Freudian, I'll look into it.)

My calendar is light and repetitive. Acting yesterday and tomorrow. Show ends this Friday :(
Next show starts next Friday :] (That isn't a full smile yet, because I'm not yet sure about this next show)

Got my Fed return back, and it is sweet. I might be able to go to Amsterdam after all.

Still have my cold, which is lodged squarely in my sinus and lungs. I sound worse than I feel, and feel better than I look, but look better than I should, and should sound better than I do.

My cat threw up on the bed while I was in it. I didn't realize it.

I went back to drinking coffee after I realized my TMJ is only a slight bit of my problem, but I only let myself drink two cups, and then no more.

Never called my date after the next day call. That will be two weeks ago tomorrow. Don't really feel like calling her. I know I said I would give her a second date, and I might still, but it takes so much effort to organize our schedules, and I have to give up work or improv to do it, that I don't think it is worth it right now.

I am seeing my soon to be ex in laws next week at X's big thesis show. That will be odd. They want to see me, and they are cool people, and they don't judge the divorce, but I do. What do you say to people who a few months ago were family, but who might never be seen again? And do you buy breakfast when you do it?

I bought a stromboli for lunch. I don't really know what a stromboli is. Sounds Italian, so I guess I should know, and should like it. We'll see.

Still horny. Let's not go there.

Don't have that great piece of music that really gets you grooving. I've had the Clap Your Hands Say Yeah CD in my car on endless loop for about a week now, but it already is time to change it. That's good, but I'm talking about music you can't be without. The Arctic Fire CD played in my car endlessly from late October to late January. Now that is music.

Don't really have a woman I'm focusing on now. Good and bad. Starting a show with TO, and I hope I don't go back there. There is a girl in the class I TA, but that would be wrong so I'm trying to stop that thought before it begins. Still on the look.

Looking over this, I have determined it was a waste of time. Sadly, I did not report that to you until you got to this point, and had determined the same thing. Nyah!

Future?

I was talking with MM yesterday.

Driving him home from work for the first time in a while, we got to talk, also for the first time in a while.

I told him that I have had my divorce papers for almost over a week, but can't seem to bring myself to fill them out.

We got to talking about the future, what it holds.

He made these predictions, and I thought I would write them down for future fun.

He said that there would be more divorces. I thought he was about to reveal something to me about his relationship, but when I asked him who would get divorced next, he said AV or CL.

Neither of these guys are even dating right now!

One just got out of a two year relationship.

MM seems to think they are getting desperate, and the next girl who agrees to date them will get rushed into marriage, and it will not work.

I laughed at the thought, but, to be honest, I can actually see that happening.

I asked if they would have kids before their inevitable collapses. He said no.

I asked who he thought would be the first to have kids. He was quiet.

I said KK and R.

He said no.

No?

He said no. He thought they were too busy with their personal goals still to devote to children.

I asked if he thought it would be him and M. No.

Who else is there, I asked.

He said me.

????!!!!!

He said that it would be a while, but the next relationship I have will be a whirlwind of love, and living together to marriage and kids.

The thought kind of made me choke, but some how I couldn't disagree.

Weird.

Well, it's now written for the ages. Let's see what happens.

The story of Doris

Doris was a friend of my mothers.

She was my age, actually a little older.

She used to work for a company with my uncle and my brother. It was a low morale place, and my brother left for other work. Eventually, my uncle left too, and started his own business with two friends.

Doris drove up to his new job one day, and said she had just left the old company, and thought my uncle would need a secretary. She offered to work for no money until the new start up could afford her.

So, she did. She became my uncle's secretary.

My mother and my uncle were close, and my mother got to know Doris. They became friends.

Then, my uncle got cancer, and Doris and my mother became better friends, as both would mother my uncle. After a three year battle, my uncle died from cancer. In his memory, Doris and my mother started to hang out.

It was good for my mother.

She started to revere my uncle after he died, and Doris was right there with her. They both liked to drink, and both had a spontaneous, childlike approach to doing things in life.

Doris had a husband, and two boys. The boys were from a former marriage, and she had had them when she herself was only 17 and 20.

My mother could relate. She had her two boys at the same age.

They started to hang out all the time, and Doris' husband started to join, with my father coming out too.

They were a couple's couple friends.

I always found it strange that my folks were good friends with people who were my age. Actually, Doris was two years older than me, and her husband another two older.

I would fantasize about what it was they would talk about.

My sister and brother, who still live where we grew up, got to know Doris and her husband at events. My brother had known her from the old job. Everybody liked her, and said her friendship with my mother was a good thing.

My folks don't really hang out together a lot. My father likes to be indoors on his computer, and my mother likes to drink and go do silly activities.

Doris was the same. She liked to go do silly things, get bombed, and come home to her husband who liked to stay indoors. The women had the same problems, and same history, and the same many things.

Last year, when I told my folks I was getting divorced, they were shocked. They couldn't understand. Then, a week later, Doris and her husband decided to also divorce.

My mother said it helped her with my divorce watching Doris go through it too. Doris and her husband were doing it amicably, like us, and just felt like they wanted different things from life.

My mother was still friends with both, and Doris' ex would sometimes come around the house, but after that, Doris and my mother started hanging out all the time.

My mother introduced her to her other friends, and Doris was now part of the group.

Doris would talk about her boys, both of whom were in their early twenties. The oldest was in trouble, in and out of jail, the youngest was a sweetheart who doted on his now single mother.

Then, two weeks ago, when my sister found out she was pregnant, after a year of trying and much worry, my mother tried to call Doris to tell her the good news. She couldn't get through.

A friend of both of theirs drove by Doris' house and saw several police cars. She called my mother and said that something bad must have happened.

My mother called Doris' ex.

That Saturday night, Doris' older, troubled son had gone out partying. He got real high on drugs, and when he came home, he tried to break into his brother's room to get more money. Doris woke up, and came out to stop him.

He pushed her hard, and she fell down the stairs and hit her head, knocking her unconscious.

The son then went into the kitchen and grabbed a butcher knife and stabbed his mother, Doris, to death.

He got the money, and got more drugs, and then called a hooker. The hooker arrived, did the deed, and then noticed all the blood. She called her pimp, scared. The pimp called the cops.

By the time the cops got to the house, the hooker was also stabbed dead. She was 19.

They arrested the son. He had wrapped Doris in a sheet and put her on her bed.

He is now in jail.

Doris was 40.

Here's to Doris.

I only met you once, long before you and my mother were such good friends, and I am going to miss you. You were good for my family. I wish yours had been better to you.

One track

Man, I have been horny lately.

I look back at my posts, and I think maybe the reason I've been thinking of my ex is I ain't gettin any, and she was the last.

I keep trying to think of where I can find some girl who is cool, but also just looking to get her rocks off. I really don't want a huge thing right now. Just a toss.

Grrr.

The show went well last night. I feel I got my character back into a integral situation. Good thing. The last show is next week.

The director came up to me after the show. This is a man who is not normally a very communicative person. A nice guy, but pretty quite and reserved. He came up and told me I had a good show, and then said that he felt I was an actor's improviser. He said that I always have solid characters that I totally invest myself into.

That really made me feel good. It is true. I do try and totally invest myself. I try to disappear. Ironically, the best way to disappear is to make the person you are hiding in almost totally like you. They are still someone else, but so similar that you rock when doing them.

My next characters are still very much aspects of me, but not the uber self that my current character seems to be.

I had a dream last night. I dreamt that TO and I were just hanging around one of our's apartment working on whomever's computer, and we were just lounging, holding hands.

It seemed so real and so nice. I don't really still have the torch for her. I act totally sane around her, but I did think the other night, while she was pitching her character, that she is just one of the cutest goddamn girls I know. She was doing this little chirp thing to make a point with her character, and I just wanted to walk over and hug and kiss her.

She knows how I feel, and realizes that I'm totally cool about it, but...

Anyway, it will be fun to do the show with her. We will become better friends. I hope to achieve that. Even if I don't get to hug and kiss her. Or even fucking hold her hand.

Wow. I really do need to get laid.

playing with my memory

Just finished watching Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.

Strange that I should see that movie now.

I have been thinking about X lately.

I remember going to see that movie with her. She wanted to be Kate Winslet in the film. She loved all the different hair colors she had.

Our friends joked that the movie was indeed written about us, because of the hair and Kate's personality, and because of the quirky geekiness of Jim Carrey's character and how similar that is to me.

Boy is that movie written about us even more now.

Watching it tonight, I started to cry.

It is true that even if love treats you wrong, you may want to forget the pain, but not the good.

I have been thinking about X lately.

There is a specific memory that seems to play over and over in my mind.

We were driving in the Jeep. Going to a party at TH's house. I was driving. We popped in the New Order CD, and the song that goes she's got one red eye, she's got one green eye came on, and we both started to dance and sing. Not for each other. Simply for ourselves, and with the utmost of joy and freedom of expression.

It wasn't the best memory of our time together.

It isn't romantic, or particularly a memory indicative of us as a couple. It just was so free and joyful that it plays often in my mind.

I try and remember the bad times. The feelings of separate desires that I know drove us apart. I can't quite recall them now.

I also don't really remember the good. Our early days together were so long ago that I can't quite remember them with feeling and emotion.

I just remember the little insignificant things that make a life.

I don't know if I am thinking about this recently because I am sick. It is such a comfort to go to easy places when you are sick.

Not that this is easy.

Maybe it is on my mind because I am looking at the divorce papers on my email as we try and answer separation questions in order to finalize all of this.

Maybe it is on my mind because her thesis show is coming up, and I am going to it, and her family will be there, and that will be odd and tough.

Maybe it is on my mind because I don't have another woman I am thinking about right now. My date isn't really a connection, and I lost TO, and I just don't meet anyone that even piques my interest these days.

What a funny movie to come across. A brilliant film. A pain in the heart.

What if you were told at the start of a relationship that the future held only the pain of your breakup, but it was a long time until then, and things would be good until that time? Would you knowingly go through with the relationship, or would you avoid the pain from the start?

I wonder.

what girls are for

girls are for treating you like a baby when you are sick.

they make chicken soup and buy juice and rub you forehead and rent your favorite movie.

girls are for cleaning up your house.

they tell you all the spots you missed and show you the store products that help get the job done.

girls are for play.

they bring over games you haven't played since you were twelve and they read all the rules and sometimes let you add the strip to get naked option.

girls are for boobies.

no explanation needed.

girls are for dinner.

they make you eat a complete meal and don't like the television on and tell you to rinse the cheese off of that plate or it will get too sticky to wash.

girls are for life.

they tell you to go for your dreams and help you dress for that big job and make plans with you for how you will spend all that money.

girls are for love.

they hold your hand when you walk and kiss you when you cry and they whisper secrets in your ear at parties and that makes you laugh.

girls are for making you look better.

they always look pretty and dress real nice and they tell you that tie is ugly and that color doesn't look good with your eyes.

girls are for your family.

they smile at your mom and tell her she looks pretty even though when she leaves they complain that she is condescending and shouldn't visit so much.

girls are for courage.

they tell big guys at bars that you will kick their ass and then turn to you and kiss your forehead and say goodluck.

Ok, Ok

Sorry I haven't posted in a couple of days.

I'm fighting off a hell of a cold, and I think sleeping all the time will help. I just have no time to sleep.

Monday I did a murder show in the afternoon, and worked at night.

Tuesday I am at the studio all day assisting or studying.

The few times I am at home and awake, I am sitting on the couch enjoying the on demand feature I discovered in my cable. I have been watching old episodes of The Sopranos.

I love that show, and the premiere this week gave me a too strong taste that can't be quenched. So, I found on demand and have been going back to watch the last few eps from the season two years ago.

Strange, but that show really makes me feel like I am at home. My family aren't killers, and there are only a couple of very slight mob connections, but the whole attitude and conversations is so reminiscent. For good and bad.

Trying to come up with new characters for my next go at the show. I find it difficult because I have never worked in an office to really grab ahold of fun stereotypes, but I think I am getting around that. We'll see.

Well, that is all you are getting for now. Too tired to think and write.

Gotta go see Tony S.

The Worst

In talking about dates, I thought I would tell the worst one.

Still in the year 1994, just much earlier. March.

I was in a sketch group, and we were doing a show that was multi media. We had film, and a band, and honest to goodness live people.

I had created a short film for the show called Underwear. In it, I walk around Chicago in nothing but my tighty whities. The joke is, nobody gives a damn. It was hilarious, and got great reviews.

A friend came to see it with some friends of his. One of his friends liked me and asked him to set us up.

So, he did.

I felt odd about going on what was for me a blind date, but for her was not only not blind, but she had already seen me in my underwear.

I guess that was a good thing.

I called her, and we made plans to meet at a Caribbean restaurant I had recently discovered.

In getting to the restaurant early, I discovered it was now closed. I stood out front waiting for her, not knowing what she would look like.

This blond comes walking up to me in a very hurried manner.

This was my date. Not really pretty, but no dog either. She just seemed stern, and that put me off.

She also took charge.

Right away she says her sister dropped her off, and I would need to give her a ride home. I laughed. I didn't have a car. I told her no problem, my car is the yellow one with the taxi light on top.

She didn't get the joke.

She also wasn't thrilled when I told her the joint was closed for good. I suggested a Mexican place up the street, and she begrudged me.

At the place, I lit up a cigarette, and she told me it was disgusting to smoke.

We are on our first date! You are calling me disgusting! Hey, you wanted this date!

I made sure to smoke a lot during that meal. We ate, and drank, and got the hell out.

We were on the north side of town, and she lived south in the heart of the city. We walked along the lake. She grabbed my hand, which was so odd. It wasn't like their was any romance. It was more like obligation. I remember being unable to think about the conversation, because I couldn't stop feeling our cold hands locked together in some desperate plea to form a bond.

When we got to her place, it turned out she lived with her sister. Her sister asked me in, and then asked if I would help her place a rug in the living room.

We had to move a couch, and then some tables, and then lay the rug, and then move all the furniture back. My date kept apologizing for making me work, and I kept saying it was all right, but I couldn't wait to get the hell out of there. I should have lit a smoke.

My date offered to drive me home, which I tried to decline, but to no avail.

When we got to my house, right away she says that this date had been her idea, and that if I wanted to see her again, I would have to call her. Then she told me how she was going to be out of town for a few days here and there, so not to call then, but to try and remember when she would be in town, and to call on those days.

I just glazed over and listened.

It's like when you are on the phone with someone, and they say write this number down, and you have no intention of doing it, so you say, ok, go ahead, and they give the number, and you repeat it like you were writing it down, but you are really just standing there faking like you care.

It was like that.

I just took in the dates like I was going to call, but I was just faking it because I had NO intention of ever calling her again.

When her speech was done, I said, Ok, good night. I hopped out of her car, and didn't even look back.

After a few weeks, my friend called on her behalf. He asked if we were going out again, and I laughed and said no.

He seemed troubled by that, but I knew he was thinking how he was going to have to break up with her for me.

He would have to be gentle. She would probably not take it well.

I did feel bad for him.

A Tale of Two Dates

In telling people about my date, many have asked why I would want to go on a second date if I didn't really feel "it" on the first.

To that, I have a story.

October 1994.

I was working at a restaurant. There was a long legged red head who worked upstairs in accounting, who I wanted to go over her figures with. Ynuck, ynuck.

There was also a tiny, pouty brunette who was so much a prick tease that even I got caught up.

I was trying to make it with both of these girls. Neither were giving me much.

Halloween came, and I went to a work party dressed as Frankenstein. Covered in green makeup. I won a bottle of wine.

The long legged girl was dressed in the requisite cat girl/sexy outfit. She came up to me at the end of the night and told me had I not covered myself in green, she would have taken me home.

Now that's just cruel.

Cut to two nights later, as I sit at the bar of a small place where the pouty brunette worked, and drank and drank to just spend some time with her. I knew it wasn't going to happen when I spilled my drink all over the bar, and in trying to catch it, spilled two others. She just looked at me, and I tossed down my money and walked out.

Now, I was feeling a bit "done" with women.

I went over to my friends' house after a bit of shopping. It was on a lark, I was in the neighborhood, and he was the type of guy who I could just drop in on.

MM and his wife were hosting some friends of hers for coffee. They said come on up, and introduced me to them. One was a guy I had once met at their house, SW. He was a real shaggy, lovable loser. The other was a really well put together, raven haired beauty.

She was X.

I sat and had coffee with them, and to entertain (which I must always do, it is my default), I told them the tales of the two women disasters.

They laughed, but the raven haired one seemed to want to analyze my stories. That put me off right away, especially because MM seemed to be siding with her. NOT the job of a wing man.

I decided to focus my powers of prick on her, and I would argue what she had to say. She talked about how she was against the fur industry, but that the fur she was wearing was ok because she had bought it at a vintage store, so it wasn't her paying for the fur to be killed.

I told her that was a gross rationalization. She didn't understand why I would say that.

To her the fur was already there, and she wasn't driving the market.

To me, if you're against fur, you're against all fur. As for driving the market, maybe some girl sees her in her fur, and not knowing it was thrifted, goes out and buys one for herself. Oops, that's driving the market.

Needless to say, when they left neither X or I were sad to see the other go.

Right after they left, MM said he thought X and I would make a good set up.

I though he was crazy. I told him I wanted none of her old town moneyed family ways. He said she didn't come from money. Her parents were educators. I said I thought she was stuck up, and snobbish. He dropped it.

Cut to a week later.

During a Saturday night shift, I am trying to patch things up with the pouty brunette. She is teasing me, but I'm not sure in a playful or hurtful way.

I get a call at the restaurant from MM. He and several people are at a bar by his house, and he tells me I HAVE to come. I tell him I won't get out of work til midnight, but he says fine, just get here.

After my shift, he calls again. I promise I will be there, and grab a cab.

Entering the bar, I see them together. A small group, MM and his wife, the stoner SW, and some girls, and X.

I head to the bar, and do a shot, and join them.

X was wearing a multicolored newsie hat, and seemed to be in a much more playful mood. I sat at the table with her and two other girls and joked around. All the jokes were working. I started to not even notice the other two girls.

MM asked if we wanted to go get some diner food. The bar was closing, and I felt like continuing the talk, so I said I was up for it. X agreed.

We got into a car, just the three of us, and started to drive. At a light near MM's house, he jumped out of the car. X and I were left in the car alone. It was the most unsubtle thing he had ever done.

I told her she didn't have to go, now that it was what it was, but she said she was hungry and I agreed and we went.

I remember setting up traps for her. If she is vegetarian, then that's it. She ordered a bacon omelet. If she doesn't read, then that's it. We were reading the same book, Miller's Tropic of Cancer.

That floored me. We talked for hours, and I remember thinking it was the easiest conversation I had ever had with a girl. During the talk, I asked her out on a date. She couldn't go that night.

Rather than feel rejected, I asked her when she could go, and we found a night. When the meal was over, we got into her car. She offered to drive me home, but I lived across town, and I said no. I rode with her to her house, and got out and caught a cab.

It had been one of the best "dates" I had ever been on. I remember I couldn't sleep that night. I just wanted to see her again. I got up after four hours sleep, and told my roommate all about her. He commented that I seemed smitten.

Such a difference from date one, to date two. I know the first really wasn't a date, but it was an impression, and it was shattered on the next occasion, which also wasn't really a date, but sort of became one.

So, that is why I will go on another with her.

Keep an open mind.

I'm in it

Well, that mini milestone is now behind me.

I completed my first date in twelve years. I think it went well.

I don't think we are "right" for each other. I might date her still, but I don't know.

She is a very pleasant, sweet, and pretty girl. She wasn't as breath taking beautiful as I remembered her, but as the night went on, I grew to appreciate her beauty more.

She is also a bit high maintenance, a complete type A, and goes to bed at 10Pm ( I rarely get dinner before 10), and worst of all, is not only not really a drinker, but has a bit of an issue with people who are.

Those were kind of the kiss of death for me.

I am NOT looking for a high maintenance girl. Hopefully, there are some out there who aren't. Like I said, she was only a bit of one, and it could have been just a fluke. It would take more time to decide.

The type A thing doesn't really bother me, but they usually don't have much of a sense of humor. She seemed to have one, so that would be under review.

The early to bed thing is a serious problem. We would never see each other. We even joked that we would see each other next time our schedules aligned... in June.

The issue with drinkers is a deal breaker. Look, I don't mind if someone only has one or two. Plus, I am not a huge gotta get drunk guy, but I do like to drink, and generally have two or three. She said she doesn't like people who drink because she had some bad experiences, most recently with her ex boyfriend who "liked to drink too much, and was from Chicago too. What is it about you boys?"

So, right there I would forever be linked with the troublesome ex. Plus, I'm not looking for judgment in my life. I only want to judge.

Her positives were her humor, her ease at conversation, her kindness, her beauty, and her common interests.

We talked without a pause. We joked quite a bit, even at each other's expense (which showed our comfort with each other), she is a very sweet Midwest girl who places high values on family, and as I said, she grew prettier throughout. She also is a movie nut, and we had many similar interests.

The real problem with the night, and the sole thing that makes me wonder whether I should ask her out for a second is I didn't feel that drive to touch her. I mean, don't get me wrong. I am a guy. She is pretty, and I would have had no problem. I just didn't feel that butterfly in the stomach, wow you are what I want pretty thing.

Which in summation is all totally good.

I had my ice breaking date.

I did well.

I am charming, and can do it.

I wasn't nervous. I was before picking her up, but once in it, I just let myself be.

Also, I didn't fall in love on the first one. I was concerned there might be that bug inside me who was just looking for a female home. Not true. I am looking for one, but not desperately.

So, I don't really know about a second. I mean, we had a pleasant enough time that I guess we should try one more, but I know, from experience and age related wisdom, that there are qualities to her that would make this thing not work.

Do I still date, for practice and fun, even though I know it has no future?

I don't know if she wants to date me again.

I think she was a bit freaked out by my age. She asked me point blank how old I was, and when I answered she didn't believe me. It took me telling her five times before she dropped it, and then twenty minutes later she asked me again. I finally convinced her I was indeed 38 (she is 27), and she said she thought I was only 27. So, I don't know if that turned out to be a good thing, or bad.

I didn't kiss her at the end. Didn't seem right. I pulled up in front of her apartment (one of those neighborhoods where there is NO parking), and we made some pleasantries, and then we hugged and she left.

It was only 10PM!

I went home and had two more drinks and went to bed at my usual time. 2AM.

Dinner at 8

It is an actual date.

Just got off the phone with her, and we set the time and place.

Talking to her is very comfortable. I'm glad we had these phone chats before, because you can hear the comfort in both of our voices.

She asked if I picked a spot, and I had. She liked the choice.

I then asked what time, and proposed a time based on how I know she goes to bed early. I think she actually appreciated that.

Then, I asked if she wanted to meet there, or have me pick her up. I fully intended meet there. My god, I drive a Metro. Why would I want to show that off. Plus, I figured she would want to meet there for her own comfort.

She said why don't you pick me up. She lives on the east side, like me, so it did seem rather natural. So, now I am picking her up. Wow.

I am both super calm, because it has always been pretty easy with her, and kind of uber nervous, because this is it. I'm back in it.

I keep focusing on the fact that she is probably more nervous than I, and I am going to go out to dinner, which I love to do, but never get to do.

Enjoy myself, and just be me, and bam! How can I lose.

I better go clean my car.

So, To Put A Cap On It

Couple of things got decided yesterday.

First, it looks like I am doing another round of my improv show. The next cast has to start pitching characters, because the start date is in three weeks.

I have been put in the next cast. Granted, I could still be moved up and replaced, but this close to the opening makes me think the decision is final.

Still, I got lucky and was put into a great cast. Myself and MM, who I have always worked with, and who is one of the funniest women in our troupe. She won an award at the theatre's awards show. Also in is BB, who always manages to get a laugh. TO is also in, which will make for some interest, and finally, RM is also in. He isn't one of my favorite people, but he is a skilled improviser.

Rounding out the rest is three new people, one of whom I think is pretty solid.

Now to see what type of format it will be. I'm hoping for Space Shuttle. Maybe Old West. We'll see.

Second, I now officially have my first date. Tomorrow for dinner.

I find it funny that I first asked for drinks, got downgraded to coffee, then pitched for lunch, then granted dinner. I think she is more comfortable with me from talking on the phone, so I got dinner out of it.

She actually confessed to not dating much, and not being savvy at it. Ha.

Well, like I said, I am going into it with an open mind. Just looking for fun, not serious. I'll just be open and try to have fun, and see what comes.

At the very least, I'll get a dinner out of it. At my expense.

A girl, some bills, and a show

Monday.

Had a good time at the Oscar party I attended. Mostly my group. I say mostly, because it seemed odd that it was seven guys and one girl.

Another girl did show up later, but seven months pregnant, and without her hubby.

Our group has certainly been transformed lately.

After the show, we played poker. Fun, but I was the first to crap out. Sat there talking with everyone else, but I could tell I was a distraction, so I left the table.

Then, on a lark, I texted my date.

I was going to go for silly, and bet her Crash would win the Oscar(3 hours after it did), but then I thought, what if she is working and taped the show, and then gets my corny joke and I blow it all for her. So, I went for even cornier and bet her Star Wars would win.

After I sent it, I felt a bit silly for doing it, but I let it go. It wasn't until an hour and a half later that I checked my phone and saw that she had responded almost immediately.

She made a crack about being thirty years too late for Star Wars to win, and that I had better not be talking about ep 3.

That made me smile.

I know I should be talking to other women, and that the chances of this working out are very slim, but I am having a good time with it. The guys ragged me again last night about getting out there, and I was trying to keep my eye open this week, I just didn't meet anyone, or see anyone, that I felt compelled to approach.

My friend in the wager actually gained a pound, so the bet is now going backwards, but let's see what the next few weeks brings.

Made a dentist appointment today. There goes more money to the docs. I just paid $800 for my other thing, and might not be done, and now here comes the dentist. I'm probably looking at $400, because of this TMJ thing, and now I think I have a cavity too. Ugh.

Got into an interesting debate last night about the improv show.

I was asked if I actually wanted to move up to the higher company.

They have been struggling with there show, and the two friends of mine who moved up without me have lamented not being in my show. Poetic justice for me, but still the whole point of this company is to move forward.

Plus, not paying dues would be a generous help to my monthly budget.

One of the guys said however, why would you want to leave this great show you are doing?

Begging the question really, is the success due to the people or the show? The show I am in has been built by many of the people who are advancing. We made it great. However, the format is a very open one, and the higher company has not yet found as similar of an open format.

Right now, they are doing our show, but with half the cast as puppets. It isn't working.

They are already talking of scrapping that format, and maybe doing a musical next. That would be more open. A musical scares me, but hey, so did improv.

I think that the company makes the show. I think if the key people, who helped build our show now, all get moved up, as they should, then we can build a great show as the advanced crew as well.

It will be a challenge.

Seriously, though, I'm not worried. If I move up, then it means no dues and a new challenge. Fun.

If I don't move up, then it means a new show where I feel comfortable, and can just have fun. Fun.

My Love Is Bad For Me

Turns out coffee can have an effect on your bite. TMJ does sometimes stem from caffeine.

Here's the great thing about that though. Caffeine will cause TMJ because of an allergic reaction.

Who is allergic to caffeine? Well, mostly people with mental disorders!

That's right. I may also have a mental disorder.

Of course the article puts a broad definition of mental disorder, but I fit in there snugly.

Still going with out coffee, although I just made a pot this morning.

X is coming by to sign all the paper work and I have breakfast available. So, I made coffee.

Do I have some? Hell, yes! It's coffee!

Ok, she's here. Gotta go.

Old is as old does

My body is sabotaging me this week.

I know that the ribs are feeling better. So, in a way, my body is working for me, not against me. I still take five minutes to maneuver out of bed, but I can go the day without screaming pain, or jarring spasms. I even did all of yesterday without any medication.

However, I am still feeble and hurting, and will most likely be for some time. Poor old body.

Now there is a new dilemma. My bite is off.

It has been a bit crooked since December, but this week it suddenly went haywire. I can't close my mouth.

Just to line up the back molars, I have to concentrate and force it, and when I do, my front top teeth bang up against my lower front teeth.

TO told me at rehearsal that it might be TMJ.

She asked if I drink a lot of coffee. Ha.

She asked if I was stressed. Ha.

She asked if I grind my teeth at night. I said since I answered yes to the first two, what do you think?

She told me to cut out coffee. Now. She also said TMJ wasn't reversible. She said I would get a night guard, but you can't correct it.

Boy, was I shaken.

I kept returning to her all last night as if I was trying to discern her credentials. I would ask her just how she knew these things. She told me that I kind of am obsessive. I laughed. Just getting to know me, are we?

Well, my ACTUAL doctor, KK, told me none of that was true. No coffee concerns, and it can be reversed.

Then, I went on WebMD, and to my surprise, they say the same thing. No coffee relations, and can be reversed.

So, I think I will call my dentist. I did stretch my mouth super wide last night, and I heard a pop, and my bite is just a tiny bit better, so who knows.

Still, I sit here this morning having not made any coffee, because, you know, I'm a paranoid obsessive.

Maybe I'll watch a Woody Allen movie today!