Tonight & Tomorrow

Tonight is my wife's final night to deliver papers.

Tomorrow night will be our first night sleeping together in the same bed at the same time in more than six months.

I.

Am Very.

Excited.

What's Wrong With Me?!

My agent sent me an audition notice late last night.  I didn't get it until early this morning.
It's for a movie-- a feature-length movie-- not a commercial.  So I was interested.
The money isn't much.  and the shooting is for 6 days only, so it's possible that it could work around my work schedule. 

And as I think about doing the movie, I start to get really pissed.  Really, really pissed.  Here are some of the thoughts that I can put words to:

Fuckin' movie.  Gotta work around my fucking work schedule.  And they're going to yell at me at my work about asking for time off or asking for altered schedule or for causing a ruckus.  And the goddam movie is shooting over 2 hours away from my house, so the gas is going to be outrageous (which the movie says they will pay for).  But this all sucks!!

I don't understand.  I don't get it that I should get so upset about a stupid movie!  I would think that I would be happy about a stupid movie!  Right?!  So what's the big deal?  They're going to yell at me at work?  They're going to tell me I can't do it?  Fine, they yell at me.  Fine, they tell me I can't do it.  I don't get where my angst and anger is coming from.  I don't get myself.

But I've told my agent I'll audition for this bad movie.  And I'm a little excited about it.  There's just a large, screaming baby on top of my excitement right now, and it's pissing me off.  I'm an idiot.

Storming Through Insecurities

Feeling super insecure today in regards to performing.

I was a professional entertainer for over 10 years.  I have a bachelor's degree and completed two years in a masters program for performance.  I've been on a stage in some capacity since my age was in single digits.  I know that I was good.

And that's the crack-- the small crack-- "I was good."

I look at all these people who are currently performing, and I start to believe that they're better than me.  That it's pointless for me to even do it, because nobody will want to watch me.  No one will want to be entertained by me.  No one will be entertained by me.  I am not entertaining.  I am not good.  I WAS, but not now.  Keep my head down, do my day job.  Forget anything about what your professional dreams were.  That's over.  Embrace this sweat jacket schlub of a man you've become.  You fat, fat, farty fuck.

And yet, there's some part of me that feels really familiar... really comfortable... a part of me that is confident... and it remains confident in this flurry of insecurity... a part of me that persevered in my early days... a part of me that made my roommate say I was like Rocky, in that life would beat me down and I would pop right back up... it's a part of me that's continuing... it's making me do things like find out what clubs have open mics... it's making me say things like "it's going to happen"... it's the one little bit of me that keeps me standing when all I really want to do is lie down... and it's done this for me before... this part of me has been here before... and it's easier to trust this part of me, because it helped me before...

it sucks feeling beaten down
but i'm not giving up
i'm just super insecure right now
but, to quote Rocky...
"...I didn't hear no bell."

Teen Suicide

A coworker stopped by my office today and told me that her son has a friend, and that friend had a girlfriend who shot and killed herself yesterday.  She was 16 years old.  Her boyfriend was one of the first people to find her, still gasping, lying on the floor, bleeding.  She had sent out a mass text: "I am sorry.  Goodbye.  Call 911."  This caused a lot of her friends to show up at her house.  Her boyfriend was one of the first there.  The neighbors had broken into the house when they heard the gunshot.  The boyfriend was the next to arrive.  When he was pulled outside by police and questioned, his girlfriend was still alive, to some degree.  Then, in the back of a police car, showing the officers the texts on his phone, he saw his girlfriend's father crumple to the ground as his girlfriend's mother went crazy in the front yard.  He saw the EMS gurney being withdrawn from the house without anyone on it.  He knew she was dead.  And that's when the cop told him, "I know this is hard for you, but you're never going to know why she did this."  Soon after, my coworker's son received a call from the boyfriend, telling him about what was happening. 

It's hard being a kid.  It's hard being an adult.  Life is hard.  Period.  And sometimes, there's just nothing we can do about it. 

It's hanging on me today. 
Maybe it'll go away later today.
I really hope it goes away later.

Wonderful Wife Weekend

I just had a fantastic weekend with my wife.
Absolutely.
Sparkling.
We spent a lot of time snuggling each other.
A LOT of time snuggling.
And kissing.
And kissing with the snuggling.
And then some more snuggling.
A very real and needed battery charger for both of us.
She got some work done.
I got some work done.
We drove around and listened to music in the car.
Did some work outside in preparation for putting a tarp ceiling over our deck.
We ate some delicious Long John Silvers.
We looked at storage buildings for our backyard, and neither of us was wearing underpants.

Just.
Marvelous.

I could really use another one just like that.
Like right now.

Pulled Muscles and Diet Pepsi

I took a drink of diet Pepsi as I was breathing in.
Diet Pepsi went into my lungs.
I coughed violently, exacerbating a pulled muscle in my stomach.
I pulled a muscle in my stomach when I was sneezing once.
I might have pulled my groin muscle when I was sneezing once, too.
Or I might have pulled my groin muscle when I was getting off the couch.
The point is, I pulled my groin muscle.

I suppose these things are happening because I'm 40.
If I say that, though, I have no control over them.
Which maybe I don't.
Butt... and I mean butt...
Maybe, just maybe... naughty girls need love, too.
And maybe...
These things are happening...
Because Baby Jesus is displeased with me.
Butt maybe...
And here's the real butt here...
These things are happening because I'm out of shape and my mouth forgot that I can't breathe and swallow fluid simultaneously.

Monday Morning Musings...

I think that we should completely allow school children to opt out of sex education courses.  I believe that the children who opt out of sex education courses should be prevented from having sex, as there are public diseases as well as children who are borne from their ignorance.  If a child opts out of sex ed, we should prevent that child from ever being able to utilize his or her genitals in a way that might be socially unacceptable, bringing consequences on others who have become unwilling victims of this child's ignorance.  Let's do this by, oh, let's say, cutting off his cock and balls.  And sewing up her vagina.  That way, neither the children nor the public they belong to will ever be bothered with their dirty, filthy, shameful genitals again, and they needn't learn how or why those former genitals could be used for anything other than chopping off or sewing up.

I think the abortion issue should be like the vegetarian issue: you don't see a lot of vegetarians protesting McDonald's because other people are eating meat.  Ok, to be fair, McDonald's doesn't have a lot of actual meat.  Let's change it to Outback.  You don't see a lot of vegetarians protesting Outback because they object to other people eating meat.  I'm pretty sure, at this time, no one is being forced to eat a steak if they don't want to.  I'm pretty sure, at this time, no one is being force to have an abortion if they don't want one.  If you have a moral objection to having an abortion... Don't Have One.

If you speed and get caught, you get a ticket.  Let's say you get a ticket for $1,000, hypothetically speaking, and this amount of money is the absolute most money you can get ticketed for when you get caught speeding.  And this is what we, as a society, have deemed is The Punishment for speeding.  If you make $2,000 a month, this punishment is much more severe than if you make $100,000 a month.  Seems to me, losing 50% of your monthly income is a different punishment from losing 1% of your monthly income.  Seems almost like it's not really a punishment at all to be fined 1%.  And yet, it's still considered The Punishment.  To me, this is like spanking a robot when it misbehaves.  A robot doesn't care if you spank it.  But a robot DOES care if you end a sentence with a preposition.  Syntax errors like that are torturous to computers at. 

Seems to me the old rule of If You Smelt It, You Dealt It unfairly punishes nonsmokers and others who have not destroyed their sense of smell.