The Weekend

So, if you need to pee, or want to grab a hot cup of joe, do so. This is going to be long.

First, I apologize. I haven't kept up the posts like I would like to. All that comedy writing is taking its time.

Speaking of which, I am done. Just got back from my fourth rewrite session in two days. Now, I can write here. Right here.

Thursday:

At night, we have rehearsal for the Bosnia show. 7 to 10 pm. We have a guy who will be going with us, and he will do our sound. He needs to see the whole show, and learn the cues. He is a young, wiry kid from Cuba. Real cool, both in personality and style. Does sound for big rock and rap acts. Has done the USO tour before with other acts. Is very world traveled, actually.

I like him. Seems laid back and fun. At break, I lean into him and say, so you know Bosnia, huh. I lower my voice and say, Do you know where I can get....

Just as he is about to say something, another guy asks, what? The Cuban quiets up. I say, that's the trick. You ask do you know where to get.... and then wait to see what they offer up. You blew it, I say. The Cuban says he was just about to list things he thought I meant.

We all laugh. I then lean in close and say hookers. Again, laughs. He stops laughing, and then says, right out the front gate.

Huh.

So, I got that to look forward to.

Near the end of rehearsal, the director decides she wants a glass of wine, so in order for her to drink, she offers us all drinks. We finish rehearsal, and continue to drink. Three bottles of wine later, we decide to get dinner.

Burgers at Bob's Big Boy was the meal, and we were giddy like stoned teens. The whole cast really gets along well. One guy is a slow meat head, but a good heart. Plus, we make fun of him to his face, and it is really funny. He laughs. I wonder if he gets it?

The meal came too late to suppress the drinks, so I drive home slightly more pickled than I would prefer. I'm going to be hung over.

Friday:

Wake up with the fucking brown bugs back. I had done some laundry and washed the bedding, hoping that would do it. I even turned the mattress over and sprayed a bug spray all over.

No dice. I wake up with them crawling on my arm. Grodey. Creeps. Yuck!

Get up, hung over and still tired. Call a writing partner and tell him I will be late. Coffee and fruit, a quick shower. I'm at his house, and we begin to rewrite a sketch.

That takes two hours, and goes well. Straight from there, I go to the director's house, as we have a murder show that day. We leave a little late, so were in a hurry. She is crabby. Probably, hung over.

Stuck in traffic. It takes us two hours to get down south to this country club. During the trip, a friend texts me saying his brother is in town, and to join up with them at night. Then, I get a text from a girl I work with who is leaving for Europe. She wants me to come out at night too. Two requests, same night. A half hour later, they both text me back saying they are going to the same place, so it works out.

The show goes great. Play to about 200 people, mostly senior citizens, but they keep up, and love it. Lots of laughs. It feels great.

Get back to the director's house about 11:30 pm, and I head out to the bar where I'll meet the others. The girl is already wasted, so I talk only a little to her. Some friends of hers are also wasted, and cute, and they seem to flirt with me, but they are too drunk.

A stranger, female, walks up to me and says, Hey, sexy. I can't believe she really means it, and I'm thinking she just wants some one to buy her drinks. I joke it off. Looking back though, I wonder?

My friend's brother is a treat to see. I knew him when I was in college. He went to the same college as his brother and I, and we were all there my last year. I haven't seen him since. He lives in Taiwan. We swap college stories, and laugh. I can't believe some of the stuff he remembers. He tells stories about the far East. Tells of the time he almost went to jail in Thailand. When the bar closes, we go to my friends house, and stay up drinking, telling stories, and playing cards until four.

Saturday:

Wake up with a bug in my armpit. The crawling wakes me. This is so disturbing. I vow to get some natural bug killer. Wont have time til Monday. Shit.

Not up an hour, when I go to class. Get there early to rehearse. I'm putting up four sketches with my name on them. Most people put up two. Some one. I'm going with four.

First one gets a couple of laughs, then dies out. Silence. Awful. The teacher, BB, makes fun of how bad it is. He gives good notes on how to fix it. The catch phrase from the sketch becomes the running joke of class, synonymous with terrible.

The second one is experimental. Mostly silence in the sketch. It will all be in the acting. I'm nervous. Especially after the last one. It goes great. Everyone laughs where they should. Success. Redemption.

The third is timed to music. Tough. We forgot to put in space to hold for laughs. It goes well, but a bit rushed. Still, everyone loved it.

The fourth one is with a girl who is crazy and a terrible writer. I didn't have the heart to say no to her when she asked me to write with her. Luckily, I came up with an idea that played to those qualities. It went great. People afterwards told me I made her look good. Lots of laughs. In it we are handcuffed to each other, and I pick her up. I pulled my back trying to lift her from the side due to the cuffs, and when I get her up, the cuff digs into my wrist, almost cutting the skin. Ouch.

The class ends and the teacher says that the sketch with all the silences is in the show. Out of 42 sketches pitched by our class, only 4 are guaranteed slots in the show. I feel good to be one of those four.

I drive straight to work, and knock out a busy shift. I get off at 10:30 pm, and call one of my writing partners. We meet at my house at 11:30 and start to rewrite our sketch with the notes the teacher gave us. We finish at 1:30. She leaves. I pour a margarita and try to relax. I can't get to sleep, and am up again until four.

Sunday:

I wake up to my cell phone. It is one of my writing partners, the crazy girl, and she is outside. I throw some clothes on, brush my teeth really quick, and she comes up. We rewrite our sketch. She leaves, and I call my parents. I haven't talked to my dad since May. Can't ever catch him at home, or he can't catch me with time. He talks for a minute, and hands the phone to my mom.

Ok. Then, she proceeds to tell me she has foot in mouth disease. I think she is kidding, but she isn't. She got it from a pool, apparently. Sores all in her mouth and throat. Geez, put dad back on.

Take a look at a picture of a girl. MM works with her, and she saw my picture and expressed interest. So, he sends me her picture. Thing is, I don't think she is all that pretty. Terrible, I know, but what can you do? I think I might still meet her for coffee, but not expect much. Who knows, maybe she will be better looking in person.

Then, I go off and do another writing session. This time to fix the sketch that went horrible. Two hours, but we got a good thing out of it. So, that good.

Work at night, busy. I get off work at about 9, and a girl I work with invites me to a bar where they have acoustic music. The last thing I need is a drink, but I am in the mood for music, so I go. When I get in, there is a girl from my acting class there. She is one who has a little thing for me, and I have never done anything about it because she is a bit dim.

Still, sitting there with her last night, um boy. I kept touching her leg when I made a point. Geez, I really wanted to take her home and do things to her.

I didn't.

Imagine waking up after a night like that to little brown bugs all over your bed. Those goddamn bugs.

I got the spray this morning!

Connection

I'm in the mood for an all night get to know ya.

You know what I mean... the kind where you and another stay up all night, not drunk, maybe a little, and you just talk and tell stories and share, and the next thing you know, it's morning.

Those are great. I guess the reason I'm feeling that way is that uber sense of connection. I don't really feel like I have that now. There are a couple of people I feel that with, but mostly that comes as a result of this blog, and the connection doesn't happen as immediate as the face to face. In fact, there are times when I'm not sure who knows what, or I assume someone knows something they actually dont.

I wrote yesterday with a girl from class. She was in my earlier class, but we never wrote together. Yesterday was the first time. She is great. Super fun, and cute. We spent four hours together. Normally, I get sketches written in two, sometimes less. Yesterday, though, we spent a lot of time just telling stories or gossiping, or talking. Nothing will come of it, she has a BF of 11 years, but it was fun to spend that get to know you time with someone.

Afterwards, I went to therapy, and told her about the guesting improv thing. I told her how I got into the car after the show, and was worried I didn't do well enough, but then stopped myself, and told myself I did just fine. That I had fun, and I did my best. She stopped me there and said, that's the proof. You tell your friend it IS working. That's it working right there.

Last night was my second go at assisting SS in his new drama class. It is a unique experience. I get to the studio at 5, and class doesn't start until 7. SS usually has an idea of what he wants to teach, but he takes me outside and while he smokes, we come up with the lesson plan. Last week, it was mostly me encouraging his lesson plan (talk about needing outside validation), but last night it was me switching his lesson plan.

He had an exercise that I found interesting, but I thought he wasn't going with it fully. I told him so, and he listened, and said that if he went with it fully, he would have to drop the second thing he had, and make the first lesson the whole night. I said do it.

He was concerned. Was it too much for the students? Would it be too hard to communicate? Would it take the whole class, or would there be time left over? I said to do the lesson, told him how to do the lesson, told him what time to allocate for it, and asked him to pick out quick little scenes for the remaining few minutes of class. He went for it. It was a gamble on my part.

All during the class, he would come to me and express his reservations privately, but I kept assuring him.

It was heady stuff for the students, and some got it and some didn't. The thing is... they all did amazing on the quick scenes afterwards, and I think it was due to the exercise. I told SS that too, and he nodded. Probably not as convinced of that as I was, but not totally dismissive either. He said I did good.

A couple of real cuties in the class. ***CANT SLEEP WITH STUDENTS!!!**** I think one has a little crush on me too. That's cute. Maybe when the class is over in Sept? If they don't continue as students in another area.

The one girl, the one with the crush, is black and has this radiant beauty about her. Something about some black women, they just seem to tap into this spiritual somethingness that just draws you to them. I wouldn't mind bowing at her alter, if you know what I mean.

The other girl is this young rebellious type. Totally detached and cool. Probably a rocker. That could be trouble fun for a couple of weeks, and then nothing but regret. Yummy.

Here's a freaky thing that is happening. First off, my cat has taken to waking me up at 7 in the morning lately just to snuggle. He meows, and won't stop until I pet him. It isn't enough to pet him though, he wants it in certain spots, so he moves so that your hand will go to that spot. Well, with me trying to sleep, I don't move with him, and therefore I stop petting, and he goes back to meowing.

Well during these moments of awareness, I've noticed something.

Two days ago, I noticed a tiny brown bug on the bed. It's about the size of the @ on the two key on your keyboard. I crushed it. Then yesterday, at 7 in the morning, there were two of these bugs on one of my pillows. This morning, I found about six of them on the bed and pillows. It creeps the wholly fuck out of me, and I can't find where they are coming from. They don't fly, or move very fast at all. They are only there early morning, and only at the top of the bed. I've looked at the wall that the bed juts up against, but nothing. I've searched the window to the side of my bed, but nada. It is very disturbing.

Well, I should be going. I have to learn how to play the ukelele for the Bosnia trip, and I only have a week to do that.

Wow. One week, then off to Bosnia! More on that later.

A Shout Out For Good

I'm feeling good. I thought I should write that down. I actually am feeling good.

I was exhausted all day today. Couldn't get myself motivated. I still should be writing, and I'm not. I'm not as tired though.

Things just seem to be all right here. Despite the 100 + temperatures, I feel light. What with all the time I'm spending writing for this class, I feel creative. My job is just three days a week now, and it doesn't seem like a lot. The studio seems fine. I pitched my improv characters for the next show and feel proud of both of them, and feel like I am in the running. That and I have girls interested in me.

What more could you want?

Oh yeah, two weeks from today, I'll be in Bosnia. So, that's cool.

Yes, things seem good.

I should take note.

Then try and maintain it.

My Guest

Well, I did my guest star bit of improv on Friday night.

I just kept telling myself to go and have fun. I did.

I was intimidated at first. I have never done this short form style, and I really only knew two people that night. It helps when you know people.

We did a warm up game, and they were moving like lightning. The guy who asked me to guest, who is also the leader of the group, told me to get in there and do something. I had to be forced. Not a good start.

Then, we did the show. I had four scenes.
The first went well, and I added some jokes, but it was driven by the other guy I knew. He is brilliant, so it was rather expected.
The second scene I did was with a girl I didn't know. She is a bit of a type A, and our scene was one where you get to speak one word, or many words, or none. She really was only giving me stuff when we could speak many words. When it came to one word, it always seemed to be me giving the one word. Then the silence of no words was terrible. And by silence, I mean from the audience.
The third was with the leader, and it went great. The gimmick is I get a scene book, and have to read all the lines of a certain character, and he has no idea what is going on, and has to improv his lines and create the scenario. He was great at it, and we both added good characters.
The fourth was a fun scene. I worked with two ladies I didn't know, but the whole scene is the guy in the booth throws sound effects at us while we do a scene and we have to justify why the noises are there. Putting ridiculous reasons to something unexpected is pretty much what I do at the restaurant so I was comfortable. I'm quick, and that helps.

After the show, I felt a stab of paranoia that I didn't do well, but I told myself to let that go. I'm working on the inner validation thing, and I needed to create that for myself then.

Plus, the proof will be if I ever get asked back to join them. They have a show in August, so we'll see.

Payment For Services Rendered

I got my first paycheck from the acting studio yesterday.

Actually, I got two checks, but only one was legit.

Wednesday marked the first class of SS's drama audition and I am the TA. He really worked me. He has me come two hours early, and I type up whatever is needed and go over the class lesson plan with him. He is a neurotic, so he needs reassurance. Then, the plan sort of rests on my shoulders.

Throughout the class, he would turn to me after a scene and ask what I thought. I just tried to be honest and detailed. Twice he got super excited and yelled yes! thats what I was thinking!

That made me feel good, and gave me some legitimacy in front of the class.

They are all really good actors. Some better than others, but some better than me.

The second check I got was for Tuesday. TR, who I assist in the comedy class, had a callback so I taught the class for the first two hours. It was slightly rough. I gave some good feedback, and got some good performances out of people, but I was only really good at helping those who have mad skills. They could take my adjustments. Those who are more green couldn't really translate what I wanted into a performance. I suppose if I had more time, I could have gotten it out of them, but the excercise we were doing called for me to give them like a minutes worth of review and adjustment, and then they were off.

Well, last night, TR gave me a check for doing that. Out of his own pocket. I tried to give it back, but he insisted. He said he knows what it is like interning, and he really appreciates all that I do for him, and he just wanted to give me that because I deserve it.

He is such a great guy. I have so much fun with him.

Tonight, I am guesting with his improv group. They are a very seasoned group, and I am a bit nervous, but I'm just going to go out there and listen and have fun. TR showed me the game list last night and which ones I will be doing, so it looks like fun.

All week long I have been on a mad writing streak. For the sketch class. I have two to get done today. One in a half an hour from now, so I should end this and go get dressed.

Toodles.

I guess it is working.

Yesterday, I posed the question to my therapist, is this working?

She asked me what I thought. I said, I felt that it had given me awareness, but I don't know if I have changed anything in that regard.

I also said that without therapy, I probably wouldn't have been able to leave NB. I said that didn't sound like a positive thing, but in fact it was, and shall soon be seeing the results of how that can be positive.

She agreed. She said she felt like it also has helped in other ways. She told me of the panic attacks, and how I don't have them anymore. She told me about how I used to be afraid to stand up for myself when dealing with authority, and how I now seem to do that.

She said also that therapy doesn't work for you, but with you. She said that after reading the blogs I gave her, it seemed like I have forgotten the other part to therapy. The first part is awareness, the second part is called challenge thought, and alternative thought.

Being aware of a problem basically means that when you have an automatic thought, one of fear say, that springs up in a situation, you recognize it. That isn't enough. You then have to challenge that thought, and if it is a fear thought, come up with an alternative.

Basically, that is relabeling things. Change your outlook. She said I used to do that pretty well, but from what she has read, and what I have told her, it seems I have forgotten.

So, we are meeting every week, and all throughout she reminds me of what thoughts need to be challenged and what thoughts need to be retained.

For example, I was talking about my sketch class, and saying how I wasn't feeling funny during a writing session. I told her that some of the people in class are superior gag men. I then changed the subject and was talking about a piece I wrote by myself. It is weak, but it needs some story help. I told her I didn't know who in class I could go to, because after getting to know these people I think I am the best story person.

She made me repeat that. I am the best story person in my class. She asked me if I could hold on to that. I said I might be able to. She said that that was validation that I gave myself and I didn't need it from the outside world. I gave it to me, and I believed it.

Progress? Maybe.

The Story Of The Girl

So, after the shows on Friday night, I was sitting in the bar having some wine and talking with a couple of married lady friends of mine. I was feeling good.

Add to that, a conversation with my therapist only a few hours earlier where she asked me to start going every week, and for next weeks session she wanted me to do something unusual. Go somewhere I haven't been, or do something I don't normally do.

So, I'm sitting at the table in the bar, and my drink runs dry.

I get up and stand at the bar. A girl is next to me in a stool, and she looks at me, and does a mini double take. I say hi. She says hi. She gives me a wide eye look. Indicating something, I think, but what? Then I notice she is talking to a putz who is on her other side.

Ahh, she wants to be rescued, I think.

So, I chat with her. The putz leaves, and I tell her the best defense is not to make eye contact with them. She gives me shit for the weak advice, and as I'm turning to leave, she gives me another wide eye thing.

I sit down at my table. But I can't stop thinking about the eye thing. I tell my married girls, and they concur and tell me I missed a moment. I blew it. One tells me to get back into it, but now a blonde guy is sitting next to her. I don't know if she knows him or if he is a new guy hitting on her, but either way, I don't fight for attention. Not with girls. Well, not with girls I want to be with. So, I don't fight for attention with people I really want attention from. I'm weird.

Anyway, I keep an eye on her, and suddenly I see she is gone. Her and the blonde guy. I tell my lady friends, and they say too bad. I missed my chance.

The ladies leave with their hubby's.

My friend BB sits down to talk to me. He starts to go into how he thinks TO's relationship is on the rocks, and I tell him I don't care. I tell him it is too much games and waiting, and I'm done with both.

Just as I finish that, in walks the girl and the blonde guy! They sit next to BB, and start to talk to him! They know him!

She keeps catching my eye, and we make minor small talk. She occasionally gives me the wide eye thing, and I have no idea what it is supposed to mean. I whisper ask if she needs a rescue again, but she doesn't respond.

After a couple of successful jokes, I lean over the table and introduce myself. At which point she says, we met last month. RK introduced us.

I say, Right, right. Yes. Yes.

I have no idea.

We continue our small talk, and suddenly the putz is back. Hitting on her. She gives me the wide eye thing, and I figure this is indeed the help me sign, so I get her to leave, and I leave too.

Outside we get on good ground for me. We start jokingly giving each other shit. I feel good there.

The guys come outside, so we head up to the parking lot. I shake off the putz for her, but the blonde guy is still there. Then, she thanks him (by name) and I realize they are friends. He says where are you parked, and then notices. Oh, he says, your parked next to that Geo. He laughs when he says it, because she drives a Tahoe, and her car stands twice as tall as mine.

I reveal I am the owner of the Geo, and ask her if she could store it in her hatch and give me a ride home. Unfortunately, I get too good of gas mileage to drive.

We laugh. I tell her I didn't realize she was friends with blondie. She nods. I get the wide eye thing again, and now I know it isn't rescue me, so I think it is ask me out.

But, I'm scared, so I don't. I ask if she is going to be at the shows next week. She says yes, and I say good. We get into our cars.

At which point, my therapists words ring out, and I look over to the girl, and I say fuck it, and I jump out of my car. Her Tahoe is already backing out, but I knock on her window, and get her to roll it down. Then I say, I don't know if this is cool, or what, but can I have your number?

She makes an odd face, and says, I'm "with" RK. Oh. They are dating!

I say, cool. cool. yes. yes. Ok. see you next week then. with RK. next week, you and RK. here. cool.

I get into my car, and my dignity bleeding, I drive home.

I log onto myspace right before bed, but only for a moment, and then I'm off.

Saturday morning, I awake to a myspace message. It is from her. Sent at 3:30 in the morning. She saw I was on myspace, and sent me a message basically introducing herself again, and reminding me who she was.

I reply. I say the word official as a joke. Soon, she responds. She says we are not at all official. She makes many jokes about the fake rules of myspace.

I respond a jokey defense about why I shouldn't know the myspace rules. She counters. I counter too, but add at the end of my message a new direction. I say, enough of the back and forth banter. It is too hard to be too cleverly over it all. I say, how about just being nice and sincere. I thank her for making me a friend and ask her some questions about herself.

She responds, telling me much, and thanking me for ending the fake fight. She asks about me.

I tell her little. I say personal stories are best for face to face. I say see you soon.

And that was that. It's cool to banter with her, and she is very creative and witty, and seems to be into me. She is also sort of dating my friend, and has two kids! So, even if she wasn't dating my friend... yikes...kids!

Still, it is nice to talk to someone who seems to like you. I'm a little starved for that these days.

Thanks powers that be. I needed that.

Now send me a single girl.

Is it working?

Hanging with a friend tonight, we had several margaritas.

I was thanking him for some advice he gave me, and telling him stories of an interesting weekend and a girl. (Later on that, too late now)

I got around to mentioning that I will be going to therapy now every week, as opposed to every other week.

He asked if it was working.

I said, I thought so. I don't really know.

He asked what I had discovered.

I told him so.

He said that all my friends have been telling me that anyways. Why the therapist?

He said that he thinks I am the very same person he has always known. Faults and weakness and all.

I wonder. Am I getting better? Am I not?

I don't know. I think so, but I can't really prove it in any way.

It is something I think of often. When is it done? When am I better? Is it ever done? Do I ever get better?

I think I will have to wait some more. I mean if I have a complex for 25 years, well then, how long does it take to erase that? Or can you not erase it?

Is the whole point just making you aware of it, and then trying to not fall into the same traps. Either way, I don't know if I have achieved anything in that regard.

Well, let's give this a go, and see how it works.

Reframe

I have been having a good week.

My low point on Monday was rescued by the sound and tough advice of a couple of friends.

Tuesday put me in a busy day.

Assisting in the morning, where SS offered me a job running his office, teaching his classes(eventually), and basically being his personal assistant. We are going to see "how it goes" with me assisting his class. The only stickler is he seems to think this would eliminate my continuing to pursue acting. I think I can do both, and told him, so we will see.

Wednesday was writing, and therapy.

My therapist said that this phase is normal. She said it is my constant struggle. My low feelings from not being on stage, and thinking my director isn't thrilled with me all stem from my basic complex.

That is what I call my It's A Wonderful Life complex.

You see, my folks were teens when they got preggers with me, and then chose to get married, and always told us as a teaching lesson that that was a stupid move on their part. My child mind heard - you were an accident and we regret it. Don't make our mistake by making something like you.

So I have always strived to prove my worth to them. Being funny, especially with my family, was a concrete form of how to achieve that. What I need to realize is that just being, just living, is value enough.

Sort of like G. Bailey. He thought his life was nothing until he was no more, and then realized how much he meant. I remember thinking what a gift that would be when I was delivering newspapers. I would have been 13 years old.

I've had this complex for 25 years.

So, she reminded me that I am worthwhile. I don't need to please or entertain people to know that.

I'm trying to hold on to that reframe. I think it is working. We'll see.

Thursday was more writing and a break in the middle of the day to watch Annie Hall. God that movie seems to be my life. I don't mind. I love that movie, but does that mean I should be looking to young Asians for my future happiness?

Today I am performing for my buddy TR who I assist. He is teaching an acting class at Disney for animators, but they don't want to do any acting, so he asked me to come in and be the actor.

It is the second time he has asked me to perform for him. I think this is a great relationship, and I hope it develops even more. Finally getting to the point of who you know in Hollywood.

That's why I don't think I am quite ready to "give it up" as SS would like. He told me he was my age when he gave up writing for TV, and since then went into casting and then opened the studio and then became a TV acting coach and now wrote a book. He said that just because I would give it up, doesn't mean I would be giving up creativity. He also said, plus, it is nice to make money. You'll see. Money can be nice.

We'll see. Can I possibly have money and acting? Huh?

Doin'

Ok, I made a therapy appointment.

I feel better today.

I talked with friends yesterday.

Both of them told me to get over myself. I have so much going for me now, and so much in my life, that I shouldn't be miserable.

I felt weak. The tough love seemed too tough. Then I asked one of them how is it that he can avoid being miserable.

He said...

What are you talking about? I AM miserable!

I swear to God, I laughed for five minutes straight.

Life, he said, is miserable. Happy comes in fleeting moments. You just have to learn to relish the fleeting moments and put your head down and trudge through the rest.

My other friend said it is all in the mind set. Some people are dying, or have lost the use of their limbs, and they are happier than me. Some Hollywood stars are living up in the hills, with all that I want, and they are putting a gun in their mouth right now.

They were right.

I think back to Annie Hall and the beginning where he is talking about the two old ladies at a restaurant. One says the food here is terrible, and the other says yeah, and such small portions.

Life is a journey of misery and pain, and it's over much too quickly.

I am going to print out some of the darkest posts here and bring them to therapy and try to reorganize my mind set.

The hysterical thing about yesterday is while I am being told by my friends how lucky I am, and how happy I should be, I got two phone calls.

One was from the studio, asking me when exactly my Bosnia trip is. They are planning on postponing the upcoming game show, but want to set the new date based on when I will be back in town.

The second was from a guy who asked me to join his improv troupe for a one night guest star slot in a week.

Two great phone calls. Two great friends. Two times two is four. I don't know what that means.

Then, last night, I wrote a sketch. Only took me about forty minutes. I'm going to go check right now to see if it is any good, but just getting it done was great!

The Burning Point

I think that I should make my therapy more frequent.

Right now, I only go once every two weeks. It has been that way for about a year and a half. Even after the split, we determined I could stay at that pace, since all seemed to be going fairly well.

All is not going fairly well now.

I am in a deep depression. Probably of my own making, but I can't see my way out.

I got some good advice though yesterday, which I am trying to cling to.

Speaking about the other night when I didn't drink, and felt like shit and snappish at the theatre, I was told that what was good about that is that a couple of drinks would have "fixed" everything. I would have forgotten my cares, and laughed with the group.

In stead, I felt what I needed to. I didn't drown the pain, I let it ride. My therapist always tells me that is the best way. Don't avoid. Feel the hurt, and it will pass.

In a way, that is what is happening right now.

This is the first time since the split that I am not in a show, that I am not crushing hard on a girl ( assuming that my present over-her attitude remains, which I think it will). Those had been distractions. Pleasant ones, to be sure.

They also will come again, I know. Acting and romance are two things I hope my life is full of forever.

Just right now, without their tonic balm, I feel myself floundering. I can't see the positive. I can't think creatively. I am even contemplating quitting the sketch class because some murder show conflicts came up, and I just want to avoid everything.

I am even trying to write a sketch and I don't think I remember how. Ridiculous, but frighteningly true. I don't feel funny.

Last night, after work, a girl asked me if I was happy. I immediately said no. It jumped out of my mouth. Another coworker was there, and she looked up, shocked. I come off as bubbly and fun. Optimistic.

The first girl then asked when was the last time you remember being happy?

I had to think. For sure, there have been times in the past year that acting has made me happy, but I couldn't say that overall I was happy. So, I didn't count that. I mentioned it, but didn't count it.

Before that, it was when I got married in late 2003, but also at the same time, I switched jobs, which created a horrible income situation, and a huge fight between NB and I. It was one of the things she cited as a reason she started to drift away from me.

So, I can't count that. Even though I was blissfully overjoyed at my surprise relishment of marriage, it was a tough time.

Before that...

I would say late 2000 into early 2001.

NB and I had just healed our relationship after our mini-split. My social scene was at its peak with all my friends gathering regularly for what we called the brunch club. I was recently signed with my agent (one who ultimately turned out to be a freak) and going out on auditions ( the last I have seen).

That was the last time I was happy. Five years ago.

When I realized that, the depression just sank over me. I came home last night and just stared off into space. This morning, I just didn't want to get out of bed. Right now, I feel a cry jag coming on.

I think I need my therapy more often. I think I will print out this page and bring it to my next session.

Water Rising Over My Head

This post is much like the last. That's why I went with the whirlpool theme in the title.

Yesterday at rehearsal, we practiced a soap. Since it is the style of improv we do, it was determined that rehearsals should be focusing on that. Yesterday's genre was old Victorian New England, since that is our next show.

We were assigned characters. Mine was a Renfield type manservant to a mysterious Lord from England.

I assumed I was the heavy. I should be menacing. So, I found a single glove and used it, and looked at people with my head down, you know, through your eyebrows.

Well, the first scene we do, me and the Lord are "discussing" land with the Lord's arch rival. I tried to stand close to the guy, to intimidate. I was told to back down by the Lord, so I went and stood in the corner. Then, the Lord told me to hand his rival " his papers".

I thought it would be funny if I took that literally and actually handed the guy his own papers. So, I did, and the guy said, He handed me my own papers?!

When it came time for notes, we were told the scene wasn't good. I specifically was told I was a bad manservant. That my whole purpose was to make my Lord a higher status. I said I thought I was doing that. The director said we would work on it later.

Then, he said I had made a mistake, and need to listen more. He said I accidentally gave the rival his own papers and told the other actor thanks for pointing out the mistake.

I told him it was no mistake. He was dumbfounded. I said I gave him his own papers on purpose. He asked why. I said because that was what I was told to do. "Give him his papers". I chose to do it literally. The director kind of shook his head, and I said, yeah, I'm sorry. This is no place for comedy.

The problem is, the director is the guy who casts the shows, and he just doesn't get me, or doesn't like me. I've always had this odd relationship with him, and it seems I always will. We did some more scenes, and mine sucked, which is not good.

I need to have some success there. I really feel like the improv has changed, and I don't know if it is for the better. I also feel like I can't seem to be good at it lately. I don't know if I need an audience. I seem to do fine when an audience is there.

After rehearsal, I had work. I was feeling like crap from rehearsal, and I always seem to hate work these days. I guess I was a little short with people. My manager after the shift said that she thinks I am going to pop. She says she can see that I am at the end of my stick, and worries about me.

I told her that I have been getting more rest lately, but I guess she is right. I mean, I do feel sort of lost and floundering. When I asked MM about what he thought about it, he said he agreed. He said I seemed super tense, and told me I was just going through one of my things where nothing seems to work for me. He said all I need was a little bit of success.

Is it that simple?

Last night, I panicked.

What am I doing? Is acting for me? I'm almost forty and what really could you say about my career? Even the theatre is only a recent thing, and who knows how successful that will turn out to be. Then there is the studio and the possibility of teaching. Do I want that? Most teachers get students based on the teacher's credibility. What credibility do I have as an actor to inspire students to listen to me?

A guy in my improv troupe is trying to start up his own improv classes, and when I think about them, I think, No way would I want to take class from him. Why wouldn't people think the same about me?

I know this is spiraling thought, and all of it negative, and that is not healthy, but I can't get out of it. Three times in the past two days, I have broken down in tears suddenly out of the blue.

What is happening to me? Is this still all from my divorce? Is it just me, and that might be one of the reasons I got divorced? I remember NB always telling me that she hated that I needed outside reinforcement. I couldn't give it to myself.

In a way, isn't that just the same thing as I just need a little success? Isn't that him saying you just need someone to tell you your good? And if so, why do I need that, and can't give it myself?

I got to go.

A rehearsal all day, and then work. Tomorrow I need to write a sketch for the class on Saturday. This week I need to write two more sketches with others also for Saturday's class. Plus on Saturday we start pitching characters for the next improv show.

Big day on Saturday.

I think I'm going to pop.

Swimming in a Whirlpool

I can't seem to get out of this funk I am in. Plus, it doesn't seem like anyone is helping the matter either.

I'm sure it is my own point of view. You know, a bad mood begets bad circumstances.

It just seems like it has been rough.

Not doing a show regularly has made relations with some people at the theatre odd. You suddenly realize you don't have your normal relied upon small talk, and without that there aren't those moments of actual conversation.

So, the past couple of weeks I have questioned some of the tight relationships I thought I had.

Again, I'm positive I am just being neurotic, but it still is up in my brain.

Then I am still doing the stupid yo-yo game with TO.

Just as I decide to not initiate anything anymore with her, she starts to call me regularly. Well, not regularly, but just actually calling is something she never did before.

Well, when she called on Thursday, it was a nice chat. We talk well together. Broad topics, and plenty of light moments and real moments.

She wanted to know when she would see me. I said I didn't think I was going to go to the Thursday night show, but I would go to the Friday show. She got all sweetie pie voiced and said, oh, your coming to my show. I said yeah. She said she would try to be funny for me.

Then, when we got back to the topic of the Thurs show, she again asked if I would go. I knew that her BF doesn't go to that show, so I figured she wanted to talk, and not have him around. So, I said ok. She got excited. We made plans to go to the show, but told each other we would call the other if we needed to back out.

I got out of class early that night. There was no call, so I went to the theatre. She wasn't there. I saw some friends and hung out with them, but no call ever came and she never showed.

That is the pattern. She brings me up high with moments of closeness and possibility, and then I come crashing down hard when they prove to be nothing more. It is probably my own fault for trying to make something that is an A into a B when it is only going to be an A, but this last one seemed to be more than my own wishful inspired antics.

So, I didn't want to see her at the show Friday. I was a little pissed.

If I had anything else to do, I would have. I'm so damn broke these days I just am wasting around the house bored. My buddies enjoy going to the shows on Friday, so they were going to be there. I told myself I would go, then convince them to go somewhere else afterwards.

That didn't happen. For one, it is so convenient to hang in the bar next door. We start tabs, and keep them open.

Secondly, one of the guys was hoping to hear from one of the teachers whether he passed a class. He wanted to stay even though I told him he would not find out that night.

Third, another guy who normally doesn't come out was there, and I didn't want to get into the whole sordid details just to convince him to go to another bar.

So, I steeled myself to hang out. That right there put me into a bad mood. Plus, I am broke, so I wasn't drinking. That added to the bad mood.

Then, my friends kept trying to get me to drink. That isn't such a bad thing, cuz I can just say no, but they continued to push it, and I didn't want to tell them I'm broke. When I did, it was all about them buying me drinks, but I also just didn't want to drink, so then it was a new explanation.

What got worse was when the one guy said he never gets to hang out with us, so we should party it up and get drunk with him. That got me pissed because I tried to hang out with him three times this week and he said no.

Hey, you never get to hang with us because you don't allow it. Too bad for you that the one night you choose to hang with us, I'm not the drunken monkey you want me to be.

Normally I just think those things and repress them and not say them to the person, but I kind of snapped a bit at him.

I had just had an encounter that pissed me off.

Some guy came up to me and asked if I had performed that night. I said no. He looked at me, and I knew then that I was supposed to remember him. I figured fuck it, and said I don't remember you, refresh my memory.

He laughed and told me about one of my shows he saw. Then said he was taking classes at the theatre, and had just had his final class show.

I said cool, and he told me I was amazing. I said thanks, and asked his name. He then said, oh sure, now you want to know.

I said no, I don't care really. He told me it ( I have already forgotten it again) and then I realized he was drunk. I asked how his final went, and he gave me shit for not coming out to see it.

That is a bit of a sensitive topic right now, and he just stepped on a land mine. I turned away from him and said well thanks this has been fun, and walked away. My buddy said it is always fun to meet people with an even mix of self deprecation and hate.

So, feeling awkward at the theatre, and pissed at a girl, and dry and broke, and getting shit from some yokel I don't know, and then getting shit from my friends made me snap.

I felt guilty for it, so I stayed the entire night with him. Me not drinking, him drinking. Most conversations bored me, and I had to get home to eat dinner and walk my roomies dog. But I stayed.

I finally got home at two, and walked the dog and skipped the meal.

I still feel like crap. Angry, and sad. I feel like all the nonsense there ultimately doesn't matter. I'm not even sure if any of this will help my career.

And don't get me started on my career.

You know, I just feel like a fool who is swimming the doggie paddle in the middle of a whirlpool. Just keeping my head above water, but I'm still going down no matter.

Nice image. I think I'll leave with that one.

Commencement

So, the past few days I have been feeling empty. At a loss, so to speak.

Talking it over with my therapist, she said lots of things have come to a close for me.

My improv show ended.
My marathon training ended.
My pursuit of TO (in theory) ended.
Talking with NB the other day, she said she doubted we would be able to be friends. Too much of a divide between us as it is. So that feels like an ending, upon an ending.
Also, my sketch class ended.

Then, she said something to me that I am trying to hold on to. That is, at the END of the school year, they have commencement ceremonies. Everyone associates that with ending, but the true definition of the word commencement is to begin something.

It is a beginning, not an ending.

Sort of the one door closes, another opens theory.

So, I am focusing on that.

I just signed up for my next sketch class, which I thought would be a while before starting, but it actually starts in a week, and we are expected to come to the first class with sketches already written. That will go through the middle of October.

In order to make some room for the cost of that class, I cancelled my Vegas room reservation, since I'm not running anyway. Need the cash. Sent an email to my fellow runners to let them know I just took away there beds.

Five minutes later, TO called me. Told me not to worry about the room, of course I should cancel, and then just wanted to talk.

She has no problem bringing up her BF, so I think that she is just calling me lately because I am a good friend to her. We are very similiar, after all. It is what attracted me to her. I think it attracts her to me, but in a less than what I desire way.

Still, it is nice to talk to her. Nice. Not healthy, but nice.

She asked when is she going to see me. Said, she can't keep manufacturing meetings, they just seem to land me in the hospital.

I think she likes me a lot, but not to the point of overthrowing her BF. Still, who knows. I think I will approach my dealings with her as a friend only, and try to reframe my mind around that too. Then, I will be getting exactly what I want.

So, let's commence with the new mind. Starting now!

Ok, now!

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now.

ONE YEAR

Well, today is one year at this blog. A total of 285 posts.

Last year, I was reading a friend's blog when I decided to give this a try. He had visited us on Memorial day, and wrote about his trip, and all of us. He then let us know he did that, and we turned in to read.

I continued.

Then, last year while I was waiting to go to the party we had planned, I decided to give it a go. This is my first post:

This is a start

So, just to get you updated, I am in a downward spiral. I am just shy of forty years, and recently just ended my decade long marriage. Also, I am in pursuit of the time honored art of acting, and have been living in Los Angeles for seven years with a grand total, so far, of ZERO jobs. What better reason to reach out and teach others my enlightened path. I am trying to approach all of this with a wry spirit. That's the coffee. I tend to actually approach it with a cynical bitterness that has been sharpened over time by repeated use. That's the booze.


Oh, so pleasant.

Over the last year, I have seen my writing dramatically improve. I am a better story teller now. I also just finished my first sketch class last night with a performance for about a hundred people. That is entirely due to this blog. I didn't feel able to do the writing class when I was first eligible for it over a year ago. It still is tricky, but I feel able.

I started a spin off. I have a funny blog going on over at myspace. It was what I had intended when I started this one, but this became too dark with my honesty. That one is kept funny, but also so less true. It is inspired by the truth, that's all. I admit, it is hard sometimes to write that one. I feel obligated to maintain it frequently, and keep it funny. You see, I have readers.

That was something I was a bit obsessed about with this one. I so wanted readers. Anonymous readers. I wanted to attract them with my thoughts. To be truthful, I think I have four readers.
Still, that doesn't matter here anymore. This one now is for me.

I also started reading blogs. By last December, I was reading about ten on a daily basis. I found a little blog community. I tried to enter it, but they found me boring. Still, I read theirs. When my computer crashed at New Years, I could only remember how to find about five of them. So, I lessened my blog reading time. After a couple more months, I deleted them altogether. I had had enough of the blogs.

I am currently reading only one other one.

There are plenty of blogs at myspace that I read, but like mine, they are little stories, meant to entertain. It isn't the same.

Of course, my inner thoughts and love disasters have been splashed across this page for all to meditate on. My theme seems to be chasing girls. With a bit of artistic frustration thrown in for filler.

Let us not forget the drunken posts. The guy who initially got me hooked told me to never post drunk, but I gotta say they are some of my most enjoyable reads. Truly humiliating, but such a slice of reality. Those wont stop, as you can tell from just a couple of posts ago.

What do I hope for the future?

Well, I would like this to become a bit more philosophical. Less a diary of my mad attempts and more a process for thoughts. I'll still keep in the mad story, and hilarious adventure, but those will, and should, go to the other blog.

So, thanks for reading. Keep on doing it. See you tomorrow.

With the light of day

Ok, things are better this morning.

Had a wee bit of an attack. Didn't last. I actually fell asleep writing, and immediately hit the bed a goner.

There was a bit of tension last night, and I don't do well with it. TH and CL just won't stand down to each other, and if C is drunk, he will push it, and T doesn't like to be pushed.

Then, I went to the bathroom and TH was leaving, and I guess he got upset that I didn't say goodbye before going in to relieve, because he opened the door on me, and left.

Then walking out with CL, he repeated that he was coming to my lab show tonight even though I didn't come to his because that is what friends do for each other.

I told him earlier, before he was ripped, that in my heart I would have loved to have come, and that his progress at the theatre is a personal point of pride for me. He said he understood, but then as we are leaving, he has to play the guilt card again. I almost told him not to come tonight.

In stead, I told him his job was easier to get out of. Turns out, I was wrong. I thought he still had the catering job, but he then said he has been at this new job for six months now. He made sure to point out that I don't ask him about him.

Again with the it's all about me shit. Now a third person fucking telling me that.

Fuck all of you! Kiss my ass!

You want my attention, then fucking interest me!

Ok, this is sounding a bit angry. Seriously, I'm doing well today. really. i mean it. really.

All Around

My mind is everywhere right now.

Paranoia, and depression, and fear.

Of course, I smoked a bit tonight. It's a holiday weekend. Time to enjoy, right?

So, I did. Usually it has been a good time, and I must say for most of the night it was.

Then, it wasn't. Just like that.

Now, I sit here thinking about goodbyes, and support, and loyalty, and guilt.

Heavy stuff.

I don't know. Shit is pouring out. Blah, blah, blah.

This is going to be a fun one. Nice post here. Watch the emotion run about like spilled mercury.

I think to some of the people I know, and imagine their response to this. Some biting, some concerned, some finding some humor, some shaking their head.

Judgemental.
Sarcastic.
Defensive.

I am one day away from writing in this blog for a year, and this is one of the final posts!

Mess, and bite, and sloppyness. If I was willing to take the time, I would choose visual patterns with the words to help dance the page into a literal representation of my feelings.

Here is a purge, both of thoughts and the concern about my typing:

I dont' think I will change.
I don't theink I wonat to.
I want sometihing different.
I want better.
I feel funny.
My eyes are closed as I type.
I wrooy about the speilling.
I worry about tomorrow.
I just want to make peole laugh.
I just want to find love.
Give it and get it
I care about my freinds, but can't always to it.
I don't think I am dedicated enought.
I wonder if I could ahve.
Am I giving up to easy.
Wehn does it stop.
Does it ever



Ok.

That is enough. I feel the closing of my eyes starting to take over into a sleep.

This was random and experimental.

That is the best that could be said.

The Ending Finally Came

When I started this blog, I let a few people read it. Emotionally mature people who would understand the pain and humor I was expressing. Also, people who were out of town, so that my constant thoughts didn't get thrown back in my face constantly.

The exception was KK. I figured I would let him read it for two reasons. One, he is as neurotic as I am, so I figured he would get it. Two, I thought maybe we could turn this into something. That's Hollywood for you. "Hey, that hurts! Let's make some money!"

He was taking a writing class, and seriously, I have always thought we would be good at collaborating. He started to read this, and actually pitched the idea to me as well. I hadn't told him my intention, so it was great to hear him have the same idea independently.

As this past year went on, KK always told me about the highlight moments, what would make the script. Soon, he began to realize the fatal flaw in our plan... there wasn't an ending.

You see, life doesn't end neatly. Well, the stories in life don't. Life ends, but then what good is it.

We were always looking for an ending.

Yesterday, he said we got it.

The arc of the story is me losing my marriage, my mind, and then rebuilding. A big part of the rebuilding and making the "me" whole is my chasing after a girl who I can't have. I work on myself to try and get her, all the while bettering myself, but never getting her.

Running is part of that.

Then, I lose it. I lose the running, and the girl. The end.

He told me that last night. It felt awful because in a way, it is true. Even after our lunch yesterday, last night felt awkward with TO. Her boyfriend was there, and she just latched onto him. I had brought some CD's for her, and she thanked me, and left.

My whole waiting in the wings distaste hit me hard. It killed my mood last night. KK may well be right. I lost.

No running. No girl. Just an ending.

Some how, I'm not as thrilled as I thought I might be when the ending finally came.