No One Wants Salad

In the words of Grandma Mary to her grandson Hugh, "Don't you want salad?" I'm just saying that cuz I posted my salad recipe on Althena's Court Online (the place where all of the online friends of Nicole and I post), and only like 1 person thought it sounded good because everyone else hates vegetables, and lately I've looking at the eating habits of this country and the average lower middle-class family and thinking, "What the fuck is wrong with people?"

People...listen, you don't go through life just doing what you WANT...there are certain things that are good for you and you MAKE yourself do them, and if you do, eventually they'll seem like good things, like eating vegetables, you'll start to love vegetables.

You know, Nicole used to respond to that sort of theory with an answer that always bothered the shit out of me and I could always tell that deep down she knew that what she was saying was wrong. She would say:

"If I don't like something to begin with, I don't see why I should I force myself to do it until I like it."

You know, I think that very attitude is part of what overwhelmed her and made her more depressed. It's too complicated to explain right now. It's one of those things that's so subtle that only someone who's known someone for years can see it.

That's why I think I've become so vehement about this sort of shit. I fucking hate the new attitude that's spreading across this country of "Make things easy, do what you WANT, it's your right, it's your life, why should you have to do things you don't want to do? I'm okay, you're okay..."

Parents are doing shit like cutting the fucking crusts off their kids' sandwiches - MAKE THEM EAT THE FUCKING CRUST, YOU PANSIES!

Good God, you know, I see Eric's little brother Jordan sometimes and I see the very embodiment of this sort of undisciplined new generation of thought.

YOU HAVE TO LEARN DISCIPLINE SO THAT YOU CAN SELF-DISCIPLINE YOURSELF AS AN ADULT LATER IN LIFE!!!!!!!!!!! YOU HAVE TO LEARN THAT THERE ARE THINGS YOU SHOULD DO, BECAUSE GUESS WHAT, THIS WORLD IS ABSOLUTELY NOT ALL ABOUT WHAT YOU WANT!

I firmly believe there are two steps to growing up:

1) Realizing the world is NOT about what you want and that you only get things exactly as you want them a small percentage of the time.

then

2) The more important step - realizing that this "bleak truth" is actually the way things SHOULD be, despite your childish complaints about it, and that if everyone realized this simple truth, then the selfishness could disappear completely and the world would function together as a whole.

Unfortunately, I don't believe such harmony will ever be achieved in this world. But I believe it's important to behave as if it could. Because I do believe in the value of a life as a whole and the reward or punishment of the next life.

People, put things into perspective. Guess what? You're a pathetic fucking tiny speck. You're not here to be the center of things. You're here to join with the other tiny specks and make this world wonderful for everyone. Because this world is for everyone, not for you.

Okay, I think I'm done ranting for now.

Now, to COMPLETELY CONTRADICT my point, I have some venting of my own problems...

1) most major banks are run by crooks
2) I don't know whether to do this job interview I was offered with Ameritrade that would pay like $16-$17 an hour or to stick with Pamida until they hire me full-time for probably a lot less
3) I've got way too much Acrobat shit to do
4) I have had no energy the past two days and have only wanted to sleep and watch TV

There. Now that I've vented that, it's time to move on and just find ways to FIX this shit instead of bitching and pouting about it.

Right? Right.

I think Chip just left me a voicemail. That's cool. I like Chip; he's cool. He's a good guy.

No...no, no, NO, nooooo, they're playing Mambo No. 5 or whatever it's called on the radio! AAAUUUUUGHHHHHH!!!!!!!!

I shall counter this wretched song with something infinitely better:

"She was a January girl
She never let on how insane it was
In that tiny kinda scary house
By the woods, by the woods, by the woods,
By the woods...

Black dove...
Black dove...
You're not a helicopter
You're not a cop-out either
Black dove...
Black dove...
You don't need a spaceship
They don't know you've already lived

On the other side of the galaxy
The other side of the galaxy"

If You Were a Hotdog, Would You Eat Yourself?

Do I really even need to answer that question??? Maybe I do. I mean, Eric hates hotdogs, and it's completely psychological. He's so weeeeiiiiiiiird. Weird, but cute. Oh well, here are some other questions.

1) Say you're a giant squid and uh-oh here comes Mr. Sperm Whale and he's half-baked and has the munchies. You look around and all you can see is a wrecked yacht, a half-eaten donut and Carol Channing (in her true form now that she's in her natural habitat). What do you do???

2) There's a hole in the bucket, dear Liza, dear Liza, and yes, the stick is too big and the knife is too dull and the wheel is too dry...so, to avoid the endless cycle of the ever-famous-and-wretched song which shall forever end in the hole in the bucket.......how do you fix this problem??? What would do to change the song?

(I personally think making that bitch Liza get the water is a good one.)

3) Which one of the Kurzes' cats peed on my shirt this morning??? Their names are Leo, Cleo, Tigger and Pixie. Leo is hyper like a dog, Cleo and Pixie don't like each other, Pixie is the queen of the palace, and Tigger...well, Tigger seems a bit shyer. So which one, do you think?


Okay, on to other things...

Can you imagine if Beckett had written my play "Acrobat"?

ARTHUR: Waiting around, nothing to be done...
DOUGLAS: The problem is in the air, and in the sex, and in the air.
ARTHUR: Someone's coming!
DOUGLAS: At last, someone!
ARTHUR: Is it Michael?
DOUGLAS: Michael! Is it?
(Donna pops out of an ashbin)
DONNA: Time for love?

"When who should I spot in the audience taking notes, but Mr. Potatohead!"

"...and, you know, the thing that struck me the most about Mr. Potatohead was that his facial features were COMPLETELY INTERCHANGEABLE!"

Well...groove on. Not a bad day. I still need clothes that fit me, but oh well. Read-through last night went great, we had a plentiful crop of people there. Mel was dere, Chip was dere, Nicki and Fred were dere, Shiloh was dere, Sunspray, Fellatio...

I'm drinking some apple juice. You know, when I was like 2 years old, I apparently made up my own word for apple juice - "Omminy Juice". Whatever the hell "Omminy" means...

Maybe...I meant "Omni-juice", cuz you know, apples were supposedly the forbidden fruit of knowledge, and so the word omniscient, etc. So maybe I was a disturbingly prophetic and cryptic child. Or maybe not.

Probably not.

More than likely not.

I need to get the money from my dad this week to get the plates for my car. I'm very relieved that he was able to help me with this. I needed this car, anyway. I need to NOT have any more major car issues, and that will help immensely.

I miss Julia Sweeney. I want to see her in more stuff.

I miss Madeleine Kahn. I can't see her in any more stuff.

I miss Tony Slattery. I once wanted to do stuff to his stuff.

I miss Bowser Koopa. He breathes fire and stuff.

I miss stuff. I Madeleine Sweeneyed with Koopa Tony, and Julia did Slattery Kahn-Bowser.

Okay, now I'm just being weird. But that's not always a bad th -- gee, y'know, I wonder if it's this energy drink the department next door wanted me to try out, like a guinea pig, I could be bouncing off the walls any moment, who knows? Steno Notes...holy fuck, it's a tape dispenser. I have too many goddamn things to drink on my desk. Look at this shit! There's Sierra Mist, apple juice, water, or what once WAS water, until I drank it, now it's just a stupid bottle, why the fuck is it still here, oh right cuz I'm saving it to fill later...

UNIFI!!!!!!

I'm amazed Eric's brothers didn't cause last night to be a disaster. Lord knows they certainly have the potential.

You know, I started writing a script a few months ago that I need to look at again. I titled it "The Plot Sickens", and the main character's name is Lady Elsinora von Krautenflaut. That reminds me of my characters from "Shut Up and Save" named Tausemblaut and Schnyurdelgurt from the town of Heimmitzbladdlefleh.

Did I already talk about that in another post?

Oh well.

Steno Notes, bi-otch.

A Spot of Poetea

::pours tea, wears a monocle, looks surprised, somehow, when someone visits this page and speaks like Alastair Cook::

Ah! Yes, come in!

I thought you all might enjoy a spot of poetea. That's poetry and tea. Only to truly have tea, you must sally forth and obtain your own. But I did write a poem. I call this one, "Ode to the Buttocks of Windsor."

::drops access and monocle::

Okay, no, I don't know what the fuck THAT was all about, I'm in a weird mood. But I did write a poem today, influenced by my play and the stuff that inspired it. And now, it's NOT "Ode to the Buttocks of Windsor".

Now I've completely destroyed the mood for this poem. But oh well, here it be.


Dance of the Acrobat

The dancer and the star-crossed lovers
Frozen in time…
The moon becomes eclipsed in red,
With lust and rhyme!

To which light do I now belong?
The dancer grinds in red and black
Despite her sensuous attack,
That night is silent in the song—
You will not hear from me;
You cannot hear from him—
The moon is free,
Its light, too dim.

She carved his name within the smoke
Her polka-dotted words aflame,
So he would burn inside the shame
Her world, she quickly turned a-joke,
The dancer, but a lark!
The acrobat, a fool!
A small remark:
So soft, but cruel…

“At least, this time,
It wasn’t all hide-and-seek.”

My dancer cannot fill the hole,
Just like the lady of the moon,
To banish dream-light all too soon.
Inside you, I release control…
Please tell me what to feel
Some of us need that light—
To know we’re real…
To live the night…

The dancer does not grieve as we
Oh no! she only shifts and bends!
And yet the acrobat pretends
To know responsibility—
Yet, bending, dreams will crack
What will she, when she breaks?
The moon – the ac-
robat, she takes…

He won’t stay put…
Your life and death, he won’t stay put!
I’m running, and he won’t stay put,
You’re bleeding, and he won’t stay put…

The moon has caught him in perfume
Her scent will only make us bleed
The three of us, on him, will feed
Until the red has drained that room
Until the doorway closes dreams
Until the dancing stops the screams

I can’t stay put…
You called me; I did not stay put
You’re bleeding; I could not stay put

I just…
Dance…
And dance and dance and dance…
I must be the acrobat
You spoke of
The one in dreams
The one we shared
The one who’s scared

Why didn’t you stay put?

So break, my dancer! Fell your cry
Of horror, anguish, sorrow blurred,
From grievances too long deferred
We’ll battle on, the moon and I,
But you must speak his name
The dance must always end
Dispel the blame,
As would our friend

The dancer and the acrobat
Will find, so dangerous and high,
A starting point for Moon and I,
And balance till our this-and-that
Subsides into the song
And acrobat is free…
I pray not long
That it should be


But dancing can be used for storm
As well as for the sun,
To rain the fire or swell the ocean…
And here, amid the social swarm,
And always on the run,
We’ve isolated this emotion.

You pray the moon again will dance,
I pray the acrobat will see
I’m what you wanted me to be
The dancer will regain her stance
When acrobat and she
Together speak your name—
At last, they’ll see
They are the same.

The acrobat and star-crossed lovers
Frozen in you…
And moon may wax to full again,
In white and blue.

Lookit This Mess!!!

My goodness gee, I have so much crud to do...

1) Work on the "Acrobat" soundtrack
2) Visit parents today for Father's Day
3) Pack for the Kurzes house
4) Make sure to take care of the four cats at the Kurzes house
5) Prepare for the read-through and find a location, and I have not heard from ANYONE I sent an e-mail to, once again (this is really starting to piss me off - there's absolutely nothing that pisses me off more than when people don't take me seriously and don't even have the decency to reply and say "Sorry, can't make it")
6) Gather the money for Friday to pay for my car plates, which are like $1200
7) Create a list of all the consummable props we will need to buy
8) Bash my head against the wall
9) Other stuff...lots of other stuff, can't think of what...
10) Oh, laundry too

So there you have it. Yeah.

Volf Brahzzuhs!

"Volf Brahzzuhs, zis is Melanie, ja?"

No one other than Melanie will have any clue what I mean by that. But barely anyone other than Melanie reads this, anyway. Well, Caitlin does too. I think that's about it. At least that's all I ever see in comments.

So why am I talking as if others are reading that?

Yeah, I haven't blogged in a week. Oh well, I've gone longer.

My meeting with Trude last night went really well. She seems very experienced in dance and I think she'll be great as The Dancer in Acrobat. She seemed to understand the theme and style I was communicating to her, and she had some ideas and even mentioned a particular style she was thinking of using...and of course, I've forgotten the name, way to go, me, demanding that everyone ELSE listen, but do I absorb a single detail? Apparently not.

I added a really funny line to the revisions of Acrobat, now that I'm making the Donna/Paul meeting scene that Donna was chatting online with Paul and made him think she was a guy named "Don" that he came to the coffee house to hook up with, instead of the whole "Oh-a-stranger-called-me-to-meet-at-the-coffee-house-let's-go" thing.

PAUL: I'm sorry...I don't mean to be rude, um...but is Don...?
DONNA: He's not coming.
PAUL: Oh. So, who are you, then?
DONNA: I'm Donna.
(Pause)
PAUL: Donna...
DONNA: Now, now, I know what you must be thinking.
PAUL: I don't understand.
DONNA: Yes, you do. There's no Don, obviously. And he doesn't have an eight-inch cock, and he doesn't want you to finish by cumming all over his moderately hairy chest.

It's the word "moderately" that gives it the final touch, I think. I giggle. (Dyuh-huh-hah-huh, I wrote thiiiiis, derrrrr...)

Anyway, auditions for Macbeth as well as Arsenic and Old Lace are this Sunday and Monday. I'm guessing Scott wants me to be there, to read with people. I'm hoping I can do this character. I'm just always so "Guh, I'm not the young lead with a romantic interest!" Oh well, Scott said he only wanted to do Arsenic if I would play Mortimer. So I'll take his word for it.

I can definitely play a drama critic. And I can play bewildered and comedic. So there we go.
It's funny, the stage directions actually say I have to pat Elaine on the "fanny".

I think gay porn sites should start advertising "Hot young straight studs, first time taking it in the fanny!" And "Hardcore fanny-sex!"

Okay, I better get to work.

........Don't I always say that at the end of like every entry?

Nicole

This will be short, I just wanted to get this down.

I've had two or three dreams now (including last night)...

Nicole and I originally met online, and discovered we knew people in common, and met in person that way.

Well, I keep having dreams that I'm chatting with her online through instant messenger. And halfway through the conversation, I have a sudden incredible revelation, like I become aware that she's died and yet she's talking to me that very moment, from the next world, through the messenger. And I'm moved by it, and I begin to realize that she's never angry in the conversation or in pain, that she's her old self.

And wherever she's talking to me from, she's having a great time and laughing.