dreariestsirius

Do you remember the fairs your school would host when you were a child? My favorite activity was the cake-walk. I won several cakes every year, though I think my favorite was this disgustingly decadent cake covered in white frosting and Skittles....now it sounds repulsive. Why can't life be easy as a cake-walk? "Winner every time."

StopKiss opens Friday, and for some reason even though I think it's a good show and that I'm fine in it, I'm still embarassed to allow anyone besides my closest friends attend. Randy suggested that the "professional" gays attend and that sounds terrifying. Why do I care? And why don't I have the confidence to walk up to people and say, "hey man, look what the fuck I can do." I need that attitude. Maybe New York would/would've given it to me.

Let the quest for grants and dollar signs begin! My mother proposes that I work 13 hour days this summer between two jobs. I've never thought about working that hard, but I think I should push myself. Prepare for a time of scrounging and scouraging for cents. It's gonna be good for me.

In other news, I had a prophetic dream. (Or perhaps a self-fulfilled prophesy, if you want to look at it that way.) For some reason I'm intensely scared by my roomate. I think it's residual anxieties from the hell of living with Chase Jenkins, king of cleanliness, sultan of sanitation, lord of laborious labeling. It's truly silly, and I don't know why he makes me so incredibly nervous. ANYHOW, the dream consisted of fooling around with K* in the house pool and hiding for fear of being caught by my roomate. I don't know why. I'm not really into K*, other than in a superficial sense, but he makes a nice bedmate. I remembered all the details, lets say. When I came home from the airport with Parks we arrived to the quintessential scene of K* in a bubble-bath surrounded by my roomate and another. It was actually quite nice. When I left Parkers I mentally noted the possibility that K* might be drunk and looking to share the bed (or he would be gone and I could've had a good night sleep.) My supposition was confirmed, and I ended up cuddling with said drunkard through his snoring. Needless to say, I didn't get a good night sleep and woke up to my roomate seeking his friend, finding him in my bed, and unhappily flicking the lights and shaking the bed. Who knows what true sentiments are seeded in those actions. However, I was pleased that I dreampt the occurence before it happened.

The ex would like to have lunch. I found out he just broke up with his current boyfriend. This could be bad news. I know I'm not over him, and if he hinted at the possibility of opening the door between us again, it would be hard for me to keep it barred. More updates on this I'm sure.

Today on a visit with my alzheimers plagued grandmother she mentioned to me the importance of keeping a journal and the innability to really retain what goes on in our daily live's without one. I need to update this more often. I think this moment in my life is a good one to habitualize daily writings. We'll see if I can keep up. My level of commitment to things needs to improve. Let's start with something simple.

Two days ago I found out I was accepted into Columbia's MFA acting program (I still feel like by some mistake.) In addition they offered me a $10,000 fellowship. Caught me by surprise in a big way. I've been deliberating over the past 48 hours about the pros and cons of going...basically the only con is taking out up to $70,000 worth of loans. I also don't want my parents to feel obligated to stretch themselves financially to support me as much as possible. I'm ecstatic about making this goal for myself. It basically means that I must stop spending money NOW as much as possible. I also need to find a job during the rest of my time at Rice, and possibly TWO jobs during the summer making the most money that I possibly can. It's going to be a wonderful time in my life to focus inward on something that I need to do, and teach myself a level of work ethic and commitment that I can retain. This is my chance to start doing something special. New York FUCKIN City, here I come. I'm gonna take that city by storm and suck it right into my lungs. We're gonna be blood brothers, you'll see.  

So much to talk about, though I'm afraid that all of my hometown revelations will have to wait until I'm back in Houston and I have a moment or two to myself. Doling yourself out to old friends is exhausting and wonderful.

 Damn, it feels good be a Hoosier again. I hopped several stones getting here (Dallas and Kansas city,) and I thought the flight might be intense for me, but I was just fine. I don't know why all of the sudden I think I'm going to die on every flight I take because I've been on planes often since I was very little. Last night I went out to dinner with two of the most amazing people I know, David and Julia. The dinner was slightly awkward because of this: every time you take a long hiatus from friendship with someone you must spend at least an hour or two becoming re-adjusted to each other. After that, things are completely back to normal and the fun part begins. As I predicted, the fun did begin as we went out to some not-so-fun bars and we began ruminating past times and discussing our futures. We joined Kevin Lonzo's "bachelor" party, which was just another night out it seemed, but had a lot of fun none the less. His bride to be is beautiful, and Kevin has gained quite a bit of weight. I wish them the best....truly. After dancing at some overpriced yet gross place, David, Julia, Brian (who had joined us) and I went back to David's for a bit of post outness winding down, which actually turned out to be winding up all over again. The four of us ended up skinny-dipping in his pool, which was glorious and exactly like old times. It was complete with his mother yelling at us through the window to "STFU." This morning when she made us pancakes she said that she saw "butts in the moonlight," which sounded like the title of a hilarious short play to me. The night concluded with the four of us in a obviously not-made-to-sleep-four bed, but that was the novelty of it all. Brian and I woke up next to each other in our underwear and feigned a bit of a cuddle, though I believe that both of us wanted to actually cuddle romantically. Who knows if that'll ever happen? There was a time when he thought he might be bisexual, though that was quickly paved over by testosterone and Catholicism. Dave and his mother Nancy seemed so well for having their father/husband pass away only a few months ago. They're such strong and intelligent people. Waking up to Dave's jazz on the piano was the icing on the cake. I missed these people terribly, I just wish they could always be in my life. I'm so happy I came for a visit. Tonight is dinner with Paul. Good luck to me... huzzah!

Last night my mind decided to rebel against my body. My third official "panick attack" occurred, but I really just felt like a mild LSD trip that I didn't instigate. Apparently when I follow the pattern of getting completely wasted (cast party), sans hangover, and then watch dark films with the 2008 Academy Award winning actors my brain freaks the fuck out. There was a point last night where I thought I was forgetting how to speak english and lose the ability to communicate alltogether. Communication is all we have, so that was pretty upsetting. I happened to be with Brad, who's experienced similar feelings due to the death of Jeff, so he helped try to calm me down. Though at one point when he went to make some Bartoli Noodles I was afraid he was going to kill me. It's so strange because I understand how illogical that is, and I understood it the entire time because I maintained the ability to look at myself through someone else's perspective. However, it's almost an involuntary reaction that I can't stop. I'm finding them easier to control because I know what they are now, but it still scares me shitless. Literature that I've read states that flashbacks usually stop occurring after about a year. That's typical, but it varies with everyone I guess. I feel like for the first time in my life I'm "damaged goods." I've got baggage. Somehow it doesn't really bother me, because the most interesting people I know of have plenty of baggage. I just need to be careful not to scare people off. Parks understands my brain the best, so he also came over (via cab) and took care of me. He, Brad and I make a good trio of mentally-unstable-pothead-gays. Meh, we're all growing up, and I know we'll all be ok.

On the next note, "There Will be Blood" might be one of the most spectacular culminations of art that I've seen up until this point. I read a lot of reviews that described it as transcendent, and I'd have to agree with them. The acting, subject matter, DARK MUSIC (thanks Radiohead), imagery, everything was astounding. Combining them made my brain race intensely, so although it might've helped bring on my uber-angst, it almost was worth it (and I haven't even finished the movie yet.) I was sad that I didn't get to sleep next to Brad again because of my freaking out, because I think he wanted me to. Maybe tonight if he's not busy. My friends are so good to me.

The most official of all the cast parties occurred last night. It was nice. I got too drunk, and then I drove, which was truly an awful decision and I'm upset with myself. How can I do something like that after seeing the ramifications inflicted on others? I need to grow up. Anyhow, the party was an interesting one. Turns out the band live in (most likely) a million dollar home in prime location. I actually enjoyed the shots and speeches that were made because I actually like everyone in the cast minus one. It also segwayed into a long needed discussion with Alex in which I ended up kneeling in front of him crying for about a half hour or so. It wasn't quite as apologetic as it might have seemed, but was more a lamenting of lost time of being close with him and Leigh and how awful it was that the situation even occurred. It's so strange to me that he doesn't remember anything from it, because it's something that I will never forget. The details and the grotesque sound bytes stored in my brain. All in all it was very cathartic for me and I hope Alex realized that I didn't just decide to cast him off as a friend, but I was just so confused and upset that I had no idea how to react. Following mine and Alex's session, I rushed upstairs to wash my eyes and look a bit more presentable to my fellow cast members, and consequently locked myself inside of the bathroom. Ever since I started smoking pot I've become increasingly more terrified of closed spaces, so I panicked on my own for a bit until someone came to set me free. Turns out Katelyn and I discussed us doing a dance AND going to the beach (there's definitely a problem with inter-drunk-sober conversations because now it just seems silly to me.) We shall see what the consequences will be. Dan came to the party deciding to pretend he was on some sort of hallucinogen, which seems like a very assholish thing to do because people (Ryan) were obviously very concerned. I wonder why he would find it necessary to cry out for attention in such a way. After seeing what can happen on drugs like that it terrified me, but as soon as I saw him I knew that he either hadn't taken anything at all, or it wasn't anything I knew about because he was perfectly communicative.

It's so funny to me that I could go from not enjoying a show, to loving it so much in such a short period of time. Thank God for live theatre, because I never feel so happy in my life as when I'm doing it onstage. OH, also we got naked backstage...which appeased all involved somehow. Now I must sit down and write a paper and wait for another opportunity to sing space songs.

Just finished "The Hours" this morning. I have to read the book now, which can only be better obviously. Though I can only hope to ever attain an equal strength to convey emotion as any of the people in that cast...particularly Meryl Streep and Julianne Moore. If I could ever meet one actress in my life it would be Meryl. I wonder if she really just has the ability to understand other people better than anyone else. I'm not talking about empathy as an actor, but just the ability to fully realize the interests, consequences and stakes of other people's lives. That would be an amazing talent, on and off the screen.

So just now I decided I would like to write an entry, but I couldn't even remember the name of this website. However, my fingers accidentally grazed the "L" key, and conveniently the rest of the forgotten address popped up all highlighted and ready. It's fate. 

I'm currently in the middle of watching the movie "The Hours." I believe that it was nominated for several things several years ago (not that it matters much,) but the reason it interests me so much is because the book was written by Michael Cunningham, a pulitzer winning novelist who I've seen speak. He wasn't all that interesting in person, and the only book that I've completed of his is "A Home at the End of the World." The only reason I loved this book was due to its arrangement of characters into a menage e tois  of gay male, bisexual male and female together. It sounded utopic to me in my high school days of mixing my sexual life with boys and girls. I think that ideally I'd like to marry a straight man who's ok with me joining him and another girl (whom I'd love...but not be in love with) in bed each night. THAT would be wonderful.... and impossible. Who knows, if I move to Austin or New York, I'm sure I could find some such situation. Love is too jealous for three to be involved. And then the kid would come, somehow...anyhow Cunningham played out this situation quite well in the book, though because it took place in the 80's, the gay male obtains HIV and dies....how fucking convenient for those other two.

Brad just gave me a call. It was one of those calls that is exciting for about the first 3 seconds, but then we realized we actually had nothing to discuss because we've spent approximately the last 7 days together, and 5 nights of those 7 days as well. If I had been more prepared, and less excited perhaps I could've sustained a conversation of more reasonable length, but instead I just acted like he was silly for calling me so late to tell me nothing. I honestly can't tell where my emotions stand on him...am I a convenience, or a necessity, or a love interest that he can't quite figure out what to do with. Honestly, the two times we've been sexual haven't been that great, does he see it the same way? He doesn't like to kiss, but is that just him, or the situation? He lips were dry and he keeps his teeth closed, he kisses like Adriana does in the play actually. If we dated though, we'd gain sexual inertia, and I'd learn him in the ways that you learn a lover, and it would probably be really good. My ex was an awful kisser and I still loved him I think. I don't want to ruin our friendship, I don't even really want to date him, but I still want to be with him somehow because I feel very energized when I wake up next to him in the morning, and that's really nice. Though, in general I think I need to spend more time alone...I'm far too dependent on social interaction to keep me happy.

It's a new dawn, it's a new day, it's a new life........and I'm feeling a little bit groggy.