Older Ladies

I was just accosted by Jane and another woman... let's call her Jan.

Jane is talking excitedly to me before Jan sticks her head into my cube.

"You know Miss Jan, don't you??"

*Time out* What's this deal with calling people "Miss" and "Mister" before their first names? It happens a lot with school teachers and as a mild, formal title. Not quite the formality you would use with, say, a generational gap kind of meeting or when you're meeting your girlfriend's parents for the first time and you use the last name. But "Miss Jan" or "Mister Christopher" or "Miss Steven" should go away. Along with, "I know, right?" What the fuck is that all about?! If you break that sentence down to it's elements, you are essentially saying that you comprehend a situation, and then asking the listener if you comprehend the situation! I know=I comprehend. Right?=Do I comprehend? If you wanted to be forgiving, the "right" part might be asking if the other comprehends, thus changing the meaning to "I comprehend, do you comprehend my comprehension?" Which is just assininically retarded! Yeah! "Assininically"! That's just how retarded "I know, right" is! *Time in*

"You know Miss Jan, don't you? Well she used to do some theatre, just like you!"

At which point, Jan sticks her head into my cube and starts to rapid fire questions at me: am I Equity? Have I looked into the local theatre's around town? Do I know whose-y-who's daughter's son's brother who did this-and-such movie in yadda-yadda village on the northern peninsula of Whogivesafuck. And she's going on and on about how I should get hooked up with this person and that person and then she asks if my wife would like to do the craft fair in February, and I say that my wife certainly would like to do the craft fair, not because my wife has told me that she wants to do the craft fair-- to the contrary, actually-- but because I was so excited not to have her asking me questions about where I worked and who I knew that I just blurted out yes to the first question that was offered off the subject.

"Does your wife want to the do craft fair in February?"
"I'm certain she would," I responded with enthusiasm. It took me about 30 seconds to realize that I meant the opposite of what I said, but by then it was too late. Jan and Jane were gone.

Jan has a waddle like a turkey. A huge, white, delicious turkey.

There's something about my former life that I don't like. I did some really great things and was involved with really great places. Like Jan said, "Your wife must be a really wonderful lady to pull you away from all that." I wish that I could say that I stopped acting for my wife. But I didn't, and people don't really want to hear that I stopped acting because I didn't think I wanted to act anymore because all the people I was running into were horrible, horrible people who made me want to kill myself on a daily basis. And even as I type that, I know that is an exageration. I was thrown by how horrible people could be. And I thought that the only place where those people existed was in theatre, where it's common to tell lies about people to gain position and favor in a movie or a theatre. Where back-biting and name-dropping are every-day occurances. People would rather actively throw you under a proverbial bus than say a word that might be kind. And it was making me depressed. Especially since it was happening to me. And hard. People were coming after me and it was scary and hurt. A lot. So that's why I stopped. And I moved back home and the day I moved back home I found my wife. But I didn't stop for her. But I'm certainly thankful that I did stop, as it brought me to her. And I wouldn't give her up for anything. Not for all the movies in the world. Not for a sitcom. Not for a theatre. Not for anything. I'll struggle and never make it and never win the lottery every day. Gladly. As long as I can be her husband.

But Jan doesn't get that. And Jane doesn't get that. And I feel alone.

My wife was watching George Carlin last night, and I realized that when I listen to George Carlin, I feel understood. And I feel like he's talking right to me. With all his radical, insane ideas, I feel gotten.

I don't really remember where I was going with all this. Except that I don't want to talk about my former career with anyone. Except maybe my wife. And I only want to talk with her about it because she can help me figure out what I want to do. And I don't want to talk to anyone at my work. They all suck. All of them. And people suck. The only people who don't suck are my wife and George Carlin. I know, right?!