Hedwig

So last night I went and saw Theatre Out's production of Hedwig and the Angry Inch and it was really good. I'm pretty precious with this show and I feel like they did it proud.

I was really pleased to see one of the guys from HA's production playing in the band. I had worked with him on another show, but hadn't seen him in a couple of years, and I got to actually talk to him for a really long time after the show. Not just a shoot the shit kinda conversation, but a real conversation about living, which is such a rare occurrence that I really wanted to stop for a second and acknowledge it. It was one of those nights that is going to live with me for awhile. I'm sure I was rambling and probably didn't make a lot of sense (kinda like this blog), but it was ok, you know. I wasn't worried about it, I was just engaged and connecting with people is not a linear path, I need to realize.

There was a point in the conversation though that I was thinking about this morning and realizing that I didn't say what I wanted to and I'm going to take this opportunity to do so. Because this is my space to express and I do what I want so suck it. I was talking about the fact that I'm a very emotional person and I go from one extreme to the other in a moment. He nodded and agreed and said that he was the same way, and he didn't like it. We talked about how it sucks to be labeled the "moody" one and then we moved on to something else, again I was rambling at this point and kept losing my train of thought. But what I meant to say to him, (and I thought about emailing him this morning and picking it up, but thought that might be a little out there, so I just figured I'd write it out here. He won't read this) is that I although I still feel that way, you know, like I could be more even tempered and cooler, the truth is that part of me likes being extreme. I'm sure it's trying and off-putting for the people that have to put up with it, but for me it's proof that I'm alive. I'm a passionate person, who actually cares about things. I'm an irrational, poetic, creative train wreck and I'll take that any day over being a Stepford Wife. I look around at all the people around me, the OC Barbies and the Bros, and the safe middle aged couples that secretly hate each other while they drink their margaritas on the golf course with their coiffed hair. I feel what I feel and yeah, a good portion of the time it's pretty pathetic, but I couldn't do what I love if I didn't.

So there, I finished the conversation for myself at least. Thanks for a magical night. :)

Traffic Haiku

Spring abandoned me,
Gloomy, rainy day morning
Fucking up my drive.
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5/18/09

• New Green Day Album!
• Angelo & Vinci's leftovers
• Curiosity
• Quentin Tarantino movie night

Perceptions

There's something that really bothers me about being single. Well there are a few things and maybe this thing isn't actually inherent to the state of being single. Maybe this is just me and my tendency to be overanalytical and curious. Maybe I'm just reaching new heights of desperation.

Anyhoo, back to what's bothering me. I'm not even sure how to explain it. I find that when I meet a man who is single and remotely attractive and nice, I feel compelled to figure out what if I have any feelings for them. It's ridiculous. I have to know if I "like" them or not and I can't just let them be some random person that I've met. Now to be fair, I tend to do this with anyone that I'm around to some extent. I spend way to much time observing and analysing and basically making up stories about people. I can't help it, that's my art really. But this is different. This is feeling like I need to find a connection no matter how tenuous, because I'm lonely and I need to feel better about myself and I just don't like it. It makes me feel creepy and pathetic.

The worst part is that it makes me doubt my feelings. I live by my feelings and I feel like my judgement is clouded. I mean I know I probably geniuinely like someone but am I trying to create fireworks where there may not be any?

It's all so confusing and annoying. I hate feeling like I'm on the make all the time.
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Dusk

The setting sun tinges the world with the golden orange glow of candlelight.
The kiln of the day is turned off. The baked clay of the earth cools in the night breezes sent to sooth her furrowed brow, carrying intensified perfumes of grass and flower, herb and root.
A mythical time, when the ancient truths of one's soul become more real than this modern, noisy, sterile world.
When the veil is thin between us and the pagan gods who begot us.
When one's ego can rest for a brief breath and you can just be.

Fleeting.

Truth. Beauty. Freedom. And above all else...Love.

5/5/09

LA Dodgers shortcut for Blackberry
Mexican Food
Being barefoot
Black Dog
Gogol Bordello "Alcohol"
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