Tgiving...

I am thankful for...

The movie Legally Blonde, because without it I don't think I could have made it through the past few weeks.

Haterz. Because without the haterz I wouldn't be getting ready for when I'm famous and the tabloid magazines are gonna be talking about me all the time.

Underdog stories. Because lately that is what I identify most with. The person being dragged down by the Man, the people with power who just want to bring someone trying to express themselves down. But the underdog doesn't give up. He/she believes in themselves.

My best friend in the world, Diane. Who no matter what is there for me.

My future husband. Whoever you are. I love you.

My friends in Texas and my friend in St. Louis, and any other friends that I have acquired throughout my adventures. You rock.

People who don't get the joke... because you give me something to laugh about later on.

Everyone who reads this blog. I'm sorry I get so busy. I don't want to write stupid blog entries and haven't had time to write something really fantastic... I don't want to give this anything less than the best.

The phrase "laying down the law" because that's my choice expression as of late...

Repugnance... :)

My badass room mate Emily who knows when to tell it to me straight, knows when to comfort, and knows when to be awesome... oh wait, she is all the time.

Especially my family. Because they are love.

And most importantly...

I am thankful for love. And all the love I have experienced and will get to experience.

Happy Tgiving, y'all!

It's been awhile...

"It's been awhile... I shouldn't have kept you waiting..."

~ "Break The Ice" by Britney Spears

God, it's been awhile... A long while since I've really written anything in this blog...

I guess I owe everyone an explanation of why it's been so long... here's a couple reasons I can think up...

1) I've been hella busy. After the Cabaret, I started rehearsals for The Producers, which overlapped with rehearsals for An Evening of Original Plays, and then as soon as that ended I did a alcohol awareness show with my college... I'm back at school and have been adjusting to this new year, new job, new life, new roommate, new everything... I've been finding my college self again... and this upcoming week I start rehearsals for The Rocky Horror Show, where I will be playing Riff-Raff. Yep, I get to sing the Time Warp. Please be jealous.

2) Besides, my extreme theatre schedule for the past three and a half months... my love life hasn't been filled with that much drama... at least drama I can really talk about or would actually be interesting.

At the beginning of summer, I hung out with Spring. We kissed, we cuddled, we smoked cigarettes... It was almost like we had never broke up... Except for the fact that over and over we kept repeating "We're not going to date this summer." Which we didn't. But I'm thankful for that. I've come to the conclusion that at home I am comfortable Resorting back to my 'High School Self' is comfortable. And I am anything but comfortable. Give me an edge, I'd rather walk it than trot along where it's safe and stable.

And so I did start a little drama... flashback to throwing myself at Aiden at the lakehouse, hooking up with Spring, visiting St. Louis and meeting up with my Spain Boy and having a fun weekend with him, talking to Peter on text and phone...

Ok, I lied. Maybe I did have an interesting summer of boys.

Post my failed Aiden reunion, I finally got to meet up with the boy that I had been longing for the entire summer. Spain Boy, who had been in Spain since January, and I had an awesome weekend moving belongings from my old apartment to new. And making out. And cuddling.

Shortly after that I took my relationship status off my facebook. Not because Spain Boy and I ended up dating (I actually told him at the end of the weekend that I wasn't ready to have a boyfriend). I took it down because I didn't want to be single. I wasn't single. I wasn't solitary at all. I was surrounded by people I love, and most importantly I had me. I had myself to carry me through anything.

And in that moment, everything I had been working for over these past months just made sense. And I became a.o.k. with myself. This was after the occurrence of my upcoming third point which is...

3) A little boy made me doubt myself for a hot second this summer. He told me that I was a bad person, and for a moment I didn't love myself. He thought the way I handled certain aspects of my relationships was disgusting and needed evaluation... I put myself out there as a topic to be critiqued through my blog and that I was no Carrie Bradshaw...

And honestly, this little boy made me never want to write again. And then I realized, by him not liking what I wrote, and what my actions were... He had learned something. He had realized that he didn't like my actions, he learned some sort of lesson. He wouldn't handle himself that way... And that made it okay. Does that make sense? More or less... Take what you want from my blog, love me, hate me, say what you want about me but if you take something from my blog, and have learned something about yourself or made some sort of conclusion of the greater world... I've done something right.

Two weeks ago, Erin and I visited Diane and we saw Julie & Julia, and they kept repeating the phrase "No Fear."

And that stayed with me. No fear. I am proud of everything I have accomplished and no person can ever take that away from me. I will face the world without fear, without inhibitions. I will piss people off, I will make people angry, I won't care. Because as long as I'm making an effect... that's all that matters. Everyone else can be boring... I will be extraordinary.

S0... with this new re-discovered self love and appreciation, that has taken me six effin' months to get back... What do I do now? That is the question.

The first step was putting my facebook relationship status back up. Not because I'm necessarily ready for commitment or on the prowl for a new lover, but as proof that I'm not hiding anymore. I'm ready to be 'single' and proud of it. While others are getting engaged around me, getting pregnant, starting lives... I'm happy to be figuring myself out. I had buried myself in my family, my friends, and my art... and through that I learned so much, felt so safe... but I realized after watching Julie & Julia, it was time to let go of fear, take the chance to put myself out there, and show the world that I am finally a.o.k. with being single, loving myself, and living my life.

And I just have to keep reminding myself... just because I'm single... does not mean I'm alone. :)

So maybe this isn't my most clever blog entry, maybe it's a little too fluffly and doesn't deal enough with the tough parts of relationships... I mean there aren't any puns... but I'm making a comeback. It took Britney a good year before she could really make her full comeback...

But I'm going to start now. It's your gay best friend, bitch.

A quickie...

Something quick... something to appetize all y'all for my blogging comeback... 

A conversation I had with Diane forever ago that I had been meaning to post...

Diane: I knew you were texting him.

Me: How?

Diane: Because you looked happy. 

:)

I'm making a comeback. Similiar to Britney's. Coming soon :)

The Week of Intensity

"When I`m hungry, I eat. When I'm thirsty, I drink. When I feel like saying something, I say it."
~ Madonna

Beause my friends and I determine my life and who I am through facebook quizzes....

Diane and Tom came over last night. After we had droven around for awhile, we made it back to my house to have a move night, when they brought up a facebook quiz they had took that was creepily accurate. I took the quiz... and got the following results...

My birthday is October 31st, by the way...

James completed the quiz "What does the week you were born say about you?"
with the result The Week of Intensity – Scorpio 1 October 26 - November 2.

You have a demanding personality with an attention to detail and great powers of concentration for any given task. You can be discriminating and judgmental. Getting the job done is important to you. You have a two sided personality one sunny and one dark, the sunny side has a seductive charm that melts the hardest hearts and the dark side is destructive and can inflict serious damage. You often project your emotions onto others and never back down from confrontation. It is difficult for you to forgive, but is impossible for you to forget. You do not tolerate criticism well. You value quality over quantity. You have a wonderful sense of humor and can keep those around you laughing.

Strengths: Truthful – Discerning – Single Minded
Weaknesses: Hurtful – Stern – Self Destructive .

This is disgustingly accurate.
Real blog post coming soon. Hopefully.
I just had so share.

Would you rather...

"It's not hard to make decisions when you know what you're values are."
~ Roy Disney

So, this morning I downloaded an application on my iPhone. It's a variation of those silly "Would You Rather" books called What Would You Choose. For those who live under a giant boulder, the books ask you a question and gives you a choice between two ridiculous answers. One of my favorites from a few years back was: "Would you rather have sex with the Scarecrow or the Tin Man?" Classy.

Anywho, the iPhone edition has special categories that'll only ask you specific questions concerning those categories. I felt how perfect for this blog, if I posted some of my answers for the love category. I dunno, it might be fun...

Ok, let's dive in...

Would you rather be...

1) be forgotten or be hatefully remembered

I don't know what this is doing in the 'love' category. I guess in a post-relationships sense... I think this could also be appropriote in the 'life events' category if you think about it on a bigger scale.

In the musical, Assassins (we're performing selections from it in the Cabaret, so it's on my mind...) there is a powerful moment when the group of Assassins is trying to coerce Lee Harvey Oswald into shooting at JFK. In that moment, they are pleading, using every tactic to bring about this inevitable tragedy.

Oswald retorts: "People will hate me."
To which the assassins respond, "They will hate you with a passion... imagine, people feeling passionate about Lee Harvey Oswald..."

For someone who has been ignored his entire life, that moment makes the world click for him. He will be a part of history, and despite the negativety that comes with this heinous act, he does it. Why? Because its better to be hatefully remembered, than to never have made an effect on the world. It's better to have people think about you... even in the worst way, than to be completely forgotten.

I do not support Lee Harvey Oswald or assassinations... I just was being a theatre dork and making a musical theatre reference. I'm not a creep, I promise.

Now to bring it back to something postive... I would rather my exboyfriends remember me, whether its hatefully or not, because that means I had an effect on them. They've learned something and grown from it. That's all I want in life. To help people learn, whether its because I did something wrong, or whatever, as long as their is evolution... as long as there is change... I have done something right. So go on and hate me, exes... at least I had an effect on you...

2) find true life-long love or get 10 million dollars

Cynical, bitter James says 10 million dollars. Romantic, cheesy James says true life-long love. James, in general says... I want both.

3) marry your first love but have to divorce or never be able to marry but love anyone

I would rather spend my life with in love than have to divorce the person I care about most in the world. I never want to have a divorce... I want the man I marry to be The One, the one who will be with my for the rest of my life. Those vows actually mean something to me... Sickness, health, for better, for worse... cherish for the rest of my life. Sometimes divorce is inevitable... but maybe that's why we shouldn't settle for anything less that what we feel is extraordinary... then maybe marriage would last and divorce wouldn't be such a widely available option.

And for the second half, while I think marriage is fantastic and something I want... I would rather have love than marriage. I would rather spend the rest of my mornings waking up next to the person I love than have a stupid paper tell me how I feel.

But thank goodness I don't really have to make this choice, cuzzzz I wanna get married and love who ever the heck I want :)

4) be with someone you don't love forever or never have the one person you can't get over

I hate this question. This question imbodies my greatest fears of missing out on my true love and never being able to have them and settling for someone that I don't love.

Pass.

5) have no heart at all or have a broken heart that never heals

Have not heart at all. I'd rather be cold and cut off than mope all the time. Diane and I lately have this joke where we give up all our feelings and become completely indifferent to the world. That way we don't make stupid mistakes when we follow our heart instead of doing what we know is right.

Then again, having a broken heart... imagine all the fantastic art, plays, and emotions that could come from that...

No, give me indifference. A lot less stress...


So that's me... what would you choose?

High School Self Vs. College Self

“So maybe it won’t look the way you thought it would in high school, but it’s good to remember love is possible, anything is possible…”

            ~ Carrie, SATC Season 6, “Boy, Interrupted”

Going home is interesting. Very interesting. 

When you go away to college, you leave a part of you behind, your High School Self. It's the part of you that all throughout high school made stupid choices, got too emotional, was embarrassing, took things way too seriously. At least some people leave it behind. One must in order to develop a new part of who you are, your College Self. It's an upgraded version that still makes stupid choices, gets too emotional, is completely embarrassing, and takes things too seriously except now you have a little thing that's growing inside of you called maturity to rationalize and pull from the experiences. College Self eventually becomes Adult Self, which if lucky becomes Married Self, which could lead to Parent Self , or Single Self should Married Self not be an option, or any mix of the previous selves... until you reach Old Decrepit Self and finally Dead Self. 

The ultimate problem with these 'selves' is that they never die. It's impossible to make them disappear. They're everywhere... in that photo album, in your best friend from 10th grades' memories, in all the people who haven't experienced you in your new world as College Self. It's in every corner of your hometown that you went to high school in and made so many memories. And sometimes, when College Self comes face to face with the remnants of High School Self... disaster strikes, the dam breaks, and everything you left behind starts flooding back.

I've been home for a little over a week. After my Oklahoma expedition, Diane and I took a day trip driving back to the little bubble called The Woodlands. Once there, I was immediately thrust back into Woodlands life. That evening I attended my old high school theatre's production of several original ten minute plays. As one of the Woodlands Theatre alums who really pushed the play-writing portion of theatre and (call me conceited, I don't care... I'm just being honest... hehe) re-ignite within the department the spark that was play-writing... I felt a responsibility to at least make an appearance at their shows. 

The shows were cute. There was a talkback following the performance, in which audience members could ask the playwrights questions about their shows. I asked the playwrights the ultimate question, Why? Why do you playwright? As a playwright myself, I love hearing about how people were so moved by something that they had to write about it, how writing is a way for the person to express something so deep within them, because they have to write because there's nothing left to do, because when they write they create worlds, figure out problems, escape. 

At least that's what I expected to hear as a response. I got mostly things along the lines of 'It's something to do' and 'I dunno...'

I was appalled. As I leapt forth onto my soap box and got ready my tirade in defense of play-writing as an art and not simply something to do... I paused for a moment and a thought struck me. They're high schoolers. Their High School Self is all they know. They haven't been immersed in theatre like I had been. They haven't gone to college and experienced theatre as an art... how could they possibly see it that when now? You can't expect flight from a caterpillar, you can't expect college thoughts from a pure High School Self.

I couldn't help but think, what separates these two selves? What is the thing that causes the metamorphosis from the high school caterpillar to the college butterfly? Or possibly could it be that the difference isn't quite so drastic... 

This weekend was prom weekend for my sister. Stress levels were high, there was a lot going on, but more importantly... my parents had rented a lakehouse for the weekend and my friends and I were going to take full advantage of it.

New Yorkers go to the Hamptons. Woodlanders? We go to Lake Conroe... or at least now we do after Galveston was submerged by some pretty bitchy hurricanes...

Since the high schoolers weren't going to be using the lakehouse until late Saturday night, I got together a group of my closest buds and we booked it down to Lake Conroe. I mean, there was an empty lakehouse, what did you expect from a bunch of college kids itching to have a little fun? I even got Matt and Dani to come for the weekend to hang out with us. So Friday morning, Diane, me, and the rest of the gang took the drive to the lake and took a little vacation.

The day was spent with lounging, tanning, walks around the neighborhood, eating, and all those vacation-y sort of things that people do. And then we got drunk.

Now this would normally be fine. A group of friends, getting drunk in a random house... except I had the bright idea to invite my ex boyfriend, Aiden.

Aiden and I dated pretty seriously three years ago. Before that we had been best friends and eventually we took that best friendship and took it to LoverVille. I broke up with him because of his... how should I say this... lack of balls. Aiden, a year younger than me, would constantly agree with everything I had to say. I started saying things that were completely wrong and outlandish to see if he would actually say, "No, I think that's wrong" or would just keep agreeing with me... I'll let you guess what how he responded every time...

I need a man who will tell me I'm wrong, who will call me out on my shit. I don't want a baby, I want a strong, opinionated kind of guy... and Aiden wasn't that. He also told me he was falling in love with me. I was still my messy High School Self, didn't know how to handle it, and I helped him pack his bags and sent him on the one way road out of LoverVille.

Since our break up, Aiden and I had remained casual friends. We would talk every once in awhile, hang out every now and again... nothing too serious. It may have been my raging ego, but sometimes when we hung out I got the feeling Aiden still wanted to be with me... So we never got back to the best friendship that we once had. I was fine with this.

This summer, something had changed.

 Since I've been back this past week, Aiden has become a staple in my group of friends. He's been spending a lot more time with Diane and I as well as being a cast member in the Cabaret. I don't know what happened, but suddenly the awkwardness was gone, and we all could be friends and hang out together again. And I couldn't help but think about the possibility of being with Aiden again. Nothing too serious, I just started thinking about it... maybe since we had both been in more relationships and experienced more life, if we tried again it would be different.

So, newly minted into the gang, Aiden came with us for our romp around the lakehouse. And I couldn't help but make plans to hook up with him that night. I know that's terrible, manipulative, and using him (especially since I really had not intention of getting together with him... it's just a passing thought), but I wanted some action. Sue me. 

As we drank, we started kissing, flirting, and holding hands... it seemed like we were good to go and then... I shouldn't have counted my chickens before they hatched... Once we got to the bedroom, Aiden just laid there like a jellyfish. He whined about being too drunk, being insecure about his body, and just flopped there. At one point he asked if I was okay after I had scurried to the other side of the bed to pout... There I was throwing myself at this boy... and nothing.  It was probably the most upsetting thing I have ever been a part of. We didn't even cuddle. 

The next morning I couldn't help but feel completely humiliated... and angry. Very angry. I felt like I had been lead on, I felt that I had been that disgusting desperate guy who throws himself at people, I felt that once again Aiden didn't have enough balls to make a move and actually do something.... but worst of all, I felt like the stupid High School Self... the one who didn't know how to attract boys, who got used by them, who was constantly disappointed, who was desperate for attention. It was like all my previous knowledge and integrity when it came to getting with a guy flew out the window. I was trying to hook up with a boy, use him, and then think nothing bad about it... where did my maturity go? It was being home, it was hanging around with Aiden, it was thinking about all those memories from high school... 

At least the thought of ever dating Aiden was out of my head. Glad that's over with...

And I couldn't help but think... I was the caterpillar. The caterpillar who had spun his college cocoon and was about to emerge a beautiful, independent, mature butterfly. But instead, something had gone terribly wrong with the evolution and suddenly, when I emerged from my St. Louis cocoon and returned to the Woodlands world... I was still the same fuzzy, awkward caterpillar I had always been... 

Saturday was prom. My mom had yelled at me earlier for treating my sister like a 'stupid high schooler' on her big day. Big day? Was she getting married? I thought it was just prom. Anyway, I went and played paparazzi for my sister, and took pictures of her before the dance. As I snapped pictures, I kept thinking about what separated me from these high schoolers. I still made stupid choices concerning boys, got in dumb fights with my parents, and didn't quite know how to handle life. The only difference I could really pick out was that these kids thought prom was their 'big day', I was under the impression that your wedding or having your first child was your 'big day'.  Apparently, I was wrong.

The following day, instead of bumming around my house alone, I decided to join my family and the high school kids at the lakehouse. My parents were chaperoning for the weekend so I was left all alone at the house... They also kind of guilt tripped me into going. I think they wanted to make sure they were taking full advantage of all the money they had spent on renting the house by packing as many people in there as possible.

That afternoon I went out on one of the boats that were there and had a nice long conversation with a good friend of mine, Jennyfer. Jen and I have been in several shows before, she has worked with my theatre company, and is a cast member of the Cabaret. She also is a close family friend who went to Disney World with the fam two Spring Breaks ago. We hadn't talked in awhile and caught up about our love lives, school, our futures, and all those sort of things. 

As we talked about what we wanted in our lives, I made a huge realization. I realized what separated me from these kids. In high school, you are looking forward to college, you stress about application, you want your prom to be the best, the next step in your life is graduation. 

What's my next step? Graduating college, finding a job that can I can sustain myself on, getting married...

Holy crap. I've only been out of high school two years yet... Gone are the days of thinking prom was the top, that high school theatre was the shit... and now I'm realizing how important finding a significant other is, starting a family, finding a successful job... And not even a joking sense, those really are the next steps in my life.

Thinking about this made me want to go back to College world, back to St. Louis, and indulge in my College Self even more. The more I thought about it, the more I hated how I was slipping back into High School Self...

I kept wishing that instead of trying to hook up with my ex high school boyfriend that I had no interest in, I was in St. Louis with my future love interest learning more about each other and moving forward in our relationship and the next step of life. 

I wanted to crawl back into my cocoon and give the metamorphosis another try.

I talked to my mom about it. She said there's something about turning 20 that everything just changes, your priorities are different, you become an adult. It's true. 

And because of this there is a reassurance. No matter how much I retreat into some of my High School Self ways, I know that because of my views of life, I can never completely devolve into my previous state. What I want in life has changed, I've grown up. Prom will never be important to me again, I can never just write a play because its something to do, those things that mattered will never matter ever again. Yes, every once in awhile I will slip up and throw myself at a boy and make a fool of myself, but now I take that experience and learn from it and put it towards achieving my future goals. I want a career. I want a husband. I want a family. I want to immerse myself in my art. 

Maybe I was a little too hard on this evolution of selves. Maybe we can't expect to build our cocoon and emerge a beautiful butterfly, but instead expect to emerge as a person. As person who looks exactly the same as the person who went into the cocoon. They have the same faults, the same problems, they can make the same mistakes but suddenly this new self is completely different... for with every metamorphosis, with every transformation to your next state of self, you take a step closer to becoming a fully realized human. And you know what...

It may not be a butterfly, but it sure is beautiful. 

P.S. Apparently, Aiden tried to get with another boy the night after we played at the lakehouse and the boy he tried to shot him down hardcore just like he did to me... Woops. Karma's a bitch... I guess that vindictive High School Self part of me will never go away...

:) 

Sex and Another City

"You can turn painful situations around through laughter. If you can find humor in anything... you can survive it."
~ Billy Cosby

I'm halfway done with college. Isn't that ridiculous? I've finished my sophomore year and just think back on this year... on how many more songs I can relate to now. It's getting easier and easier to appreciate those songs about stupid boys, heartbreak, falling in love... It's getting easier to appreciate those songs about friendship... It's easier to appreciate how beautiful and powerful it is to be alone, and how sad and distressing it is...

I finished my last final on Tuesday, shortly after I tossed all my stuff into by suitcase and escaped. I'm currently typing at Diane's computer in Oklahoma. I feel like a foreign exchange student of sorts. I've left my college family in St. Louis to come live with and experience Diane's college family in Oklahoma.

As much as I love meeting new people, its made me miss everyone back in St. Louis right now. I see how Diane and her friends act with each other and miss how my friends and I act in St. Louis world. I was so desperate to get out of town, be done with this stupid year, I got out of there as soon as possible.

I've been desperate for this year to end. I just want everything that happened to me this year to go away so I can get back to normal. I want to have what I've learned and move on. It's not that simple, though. Just because a year ends, just because you escape town... doesn't mean everything else ends.

It's like when Carrie and Aiden broke up the first time and she got out of New York and went to Los Angeles. Or something like that...

You still think about him. You still wish things worked out. You still wish you were kissing him. You wish he would come home. You still wish the world would move a little faster so you don't have to wait. You're still trying to get over him and be ready for what's next. You're still putting together the pieces of your heart. You still think about him at 2 AM. You still think of him every time you here those damn songs...

You just have a different group of friends to talk about it to.

And sometimes in the midst of all this moping, you realize you're not talking about just your unboyfriend... in fact, you are talking about him a lot less than you ever have... and more and more about a new boy on the horizon. You're next love interest, the featured star of the next season of the TV show that is your life.

Too bad that TV show is on indefinate hiatus. It's interesting being on the side of the escape. The side that's left behind, while the other person escapes to a foreign world. It's hard being the one who has to wait while your new love interest goes on fantastic adventures in foreign places and all you can do is sit in your best friend's apartment and fantasize about your future together.

Look at me, calling this upcoming boy my love interest... We haven't even gone on a date together, I'm definately jumping the gun here... all we have is just endless hours of conversations and intimate messages... and butterflies. There are definate butterflies.

Next time I'm back in St. Louis I get to see him. He'll be back from his international adventures (which he is currently internet less... so really, all I really have is my fantasies, I don't even AIM...), I'll be back from my great escape...

I just took a break from typing this. Went into Diane's living room, sat in this papazan chair...
and then fell over.
It was like slow motion, the chair started leaning over and as I was halfway down, I realized...
There was nothing I could do.
And as I laid sprawled there on the ground, the chair on its side, and Diane, her friends, and my self cackling out of control.
I realized I couldn't be happier
and so thankful that there isn't an ounce of shame in my body.

Cuz for that moment
I forgot that I was waiting for this boy to come home
I forgot that I hated this past school year with a passion
I forgot that I feel really lonely when it's late at night
I forgot that I missed everyone in St. Louis

And I just laughed.
Fuck it. I'm having fun with my awesome foreign exchange family
in Oklahoma.

What. Up. :)

A little mood music...

“I think all the boys that write the screaming stuff would write the best love songs.... because they have the most to hide. The guys that are in the most pain are usually the ones with the biggest hearts.”

~ Tori Amos

I've been pondering the past couple of days what my next blog entry should be and every pondering-session I come up dry. I could talk about how my bad weekend evolved into a week of so many ups and and downs, I couldn't even handle myself. I could talk about a couple issues that have been bugging me... but for some reason I can't wrap myself around the idea of writing about any of those things. Maybe it's because in this moment, all I care about it a song.

So forgive me. I'm having one of those moments. I'm giving into my 12 year old middle schooler and feeling the need to post angsty, emotion-filled lyrics to my angsty, emotion filled song that has got me through this week. 

There are times when a song strikes so close to home that you can't help but put it on repeat. And listen to it over and over again. I downloaded this song late Wednesday night (I was pulling an all nighter to get an assignment done... let's just say I stayed up for 30 hours straight... and I don't do the 'all nighter' thing... or the 'no sleep' thing... or the 'fully function after pulling an all nighter' thing...) and it is already #4 on my "Top 25 Most Played" playlist on iTunes. It's been four days of non-stop listening. 

I owe my latest song obsession to K.T. While on one of our many driving around adventures the song came on her iPod shuffle and by the second chorus I was passionately singing along. It struck.

The song is by Robyn. You remember Robyn? The chick that sang "Show Me Love" in the 90s? Please flashback for a second, hum of few lines of one of the most upbeat catchy songs of the decade, and reminisce about the fun you had blasting that song when it came on the radio and belting it out. 

The song is called, "Be Mine!" The song speaks for itself.  The song speaks for me.

Lyrics... go:

It's a good thing, tears never show in the pouring rain
As if a good thing ever could make up for all the pain
There'll be no last chance to promise to never mess it up again
Just a sweet pain of watching your back as you walk
As I'm watching you walk away
And now you're gone it's like an echo in my head
And I remember every word you said

It's a cold thing you never know all the ways I tried
It's a hard thing faking a smile when I feel like I'm falling apart inside
And now you're gone it's like an echo in my head
And  I remember every word you said

And you never were, and you never will be mine
No, you never were, and you never will be mine

For the first time, there's no mercy in your eyes
And the cold wind is hitting my face and you're gone
And you're walking away 
And I'm helpless sometimes
Wishing's just no good
Cause you don't see me like I wish you would

Cause you never were, and you never will be mine
No, you never were, and you never will be mine

There's a moment to seize everytime that we meet
But you have always keep passing me by

But you never were, and you never will be mine

(I saw you at the station, you had your arm around
What's-her-name? She had on that scarf I gave you
you got down to tie her laces)

Cause you never were, and you never will be mine
(You looked happy and that's great)
No, you never were, and you never will be mine
(I just miss you, that's all)

Cause you never were, and you never will be mine
No, you never were, and you never will be mine

There's a moment to seize everytime that we meet
But you have always keep passing me by

No, you never were, and you never will be mine
Cause you never were, and you never will be mine
No, you never were, and you never will be mine

There's a moment to seize everytime that we meet
But you have always keep passing me by
No, you never were, and you never will be mine

---

Sometimes it embarrasses me how dramatic I am. Posting lyrics to a song about heartbreak and proclaiming how in the past four days I've listened it to almost a hundred times? I sound like I'm completely devastated... I'm not. I'm not devastated, I actually think things are actually putting themselves together... I'm finally figuring things out... I just need to calm down on the dramatics... 

So. I'm done with my angsty lyrics and my angsty song and my angsty 12 year old self. I just felt like sharing. Although I don't necessarily feel this way towards anyone (ha, like I would actually believe that I couldn't make someone fall for me? Yeah right... I'm going to be single the rest of my life for this parenthesis... piss...) there's something so raw and honest about the song. It's simple, it's true. It's bittersweet. There's this idea of reaching out for someone and just missing them. And maybe if you reach a little farther... just maybe if you stretch, reach a little more... you can grab a hold...

And I'm just in love with the opening line: "It's a good thing tears never show in the pouring rain"

So. true.

And now for some good news...

We closed The Good Person of Setzuan today! Next up, theatre wise: I'm co-directing a cabaret with Diane this summer in Houston.

Also,

There's this application on facebook called Honesty Box. It's where you can tell you honest feelings about people. I think its stupid and I thought I discontinued it... alas I didn't... and maybe it was a good thing. This evening as I logged on to facebook I got a notification from 'Honesty Box' about how someone left something in the box about me. Curious, I checked. There was a message form an anonymous male... It said:

"I think that if I don't marry you the lucky S.O.B. will have to get shot"

Thank you whoever you are. You've made my life. 

From a treacherous weekend, to a treacherous week, to listen to bittersweet songs of heartbreak...

It's nice to have a reminder that there is someone who actually wants to be with me

And would possibly kill to do so :)

Of course there's someone I wish wrote this, and someone I think probably wrote this, and someone that might really disappoint me if he wrote this... but none-the-less, authorship aside, the fact that its just a stupid FB application and possibly just a joke aside...

It's nice to know (or at least pretend for a second)

There is someone who maybe actually wants to be mine.

...to pick you up on our very first date

“The worst thing a man could ever do is kiss me on the first date.”

~ Halle Berry

I went on a first date last night. Now, if there's one thing that I'm not a pro at... it's first dates. For some reason in my life, I have only had a small handful of actual first dates. My relationships usually fall into place through unconventional ways (I'll tell you about those some other time...). I'm not normally a date kind of person. The last time I had a first date was around seven months ago, and was a huge flop, that resulted in some mediocre fooling around and me not calling him back...

So getting thrown back into the first date scene was a little frightening.

Getting thrown back into the dating scene was a little frightening.

I don't know what it is, but there is something about re-entering the dating scene post break-up. No matter how over your previous relationship you are, there's still something incredibly scary about taking that risk, putting yourself out there again. It's a fear of rejection, a fear of this new relationship contender not living up to the expectations set by your previous boyfriend,  it's a fear of once again it not working out and the impending fear of forever being single....

...I'm a little overdramatic...

Anyway, I knew eventually I would have to leave post-break-up-recovery world or at least take a step towards the exit. First Dater and I had been been text flirting for over a week, we had a late night hang out over the weekend, and then decided to go on an official first date. The previous late night hang out had taken the ease of the first date, we had already established we could talk for awhile so hopefully awkward pauses and conversation lulls would be a minimum. 

Instead of writing another relationship article, I have decided to simply give you a break down of how the date went down. Please, enjoy: 

1) I'm indecisive and have failed to pick out a restaurant, as a last minute ditch effort I suggest a nearby hang out spot with a bunch of places to eat and hang out

2) Due to my lackage of car, he has to come pick me up, I feel like a 12 year old, he feels special.

3) Bad choice suggesting a location where I'm not familiar with any of the restaurants... and neither is he...

4) Luckily, he is decisive and picks out a nice sushi bar.

5) We go in, but awkwardly the host gives us a choice to sit upstairs, downstairs, or at the bar. Once again, being indecisive, we stand around a few moments, because I can't make a decision. We eventually chose to go upstairs where we then have to make a choice to sit at the bar or at a table. I chose a table, because I want to be able to actually talk to him. Apparently, the section of tables we wanted to sit at were reserved. We awkwardly move to a new section, and hope we'll be served there.

6) We get a menu. After I have to go up to the bar and ask for one... Because neither of us are familiar with the sushi bar, or really sushi in general, the menu is overwhelming. Thus, there is much silence as we try and decipher what the menu was telling us. Finally the bar tender walks over and we ask her to help. 

7) After the big decision on what to eat is made (much thanks to the lovely lady working the bar), we can finally dig in to some awesome conversation.

8) Conversation is really great. We eventually hit our first minor lull. I pretend to yawn to devoid any possible awkwardness. Emergency lull/stereotypical first date questions get pulled out, i.e. who is your favorite singer?

9) We bond over music. Score! Stereotypical first date question: success!

10) Food is delicious. I offer him a sushi roll, he offers me some of his fried rice. It's kind of cute. 

11) Conversation continues to be really great. He asks about past relationships, I pass, citing that I don't want to bring up the 'Ex Files'. I figure avoiding any talk about past relationships, especially since I'm still in post-break-up-recovery world from a serious relationship, it was a good idea.

12) We bond over a lot of thing, start to get to know each other. Talk about pet peeves, and our families. It's really nice.

13) Plates have been cleared, the check has arrived. I pull out my wallet to pay, and he insists that he pays. Major points.

14) We continue to talk for a bit, and I ask him about this weekend. Aka... we set a second date :)

15) It's a Monday night, and I have homework to finish. I'm a wet blanket and put an end to the date. He drives me home.

16) Final moment. We're parked in front of my apartment. The ultimate question, something I had been actually thinking about for a lot of the second half of the night. Do we kiss? I can't decide. I'm not sure what to do... we lean in... Hug. The moment wasn't right for the first kiss. I'm cool with this, and am happy that we hugged. I get out of the car and head up to my apartment and respond to a text Diane sent me while I was at dinner as well as filling her in on what a success the evening was.

17) He texts me later that night to tell me what a good time he had. And now, I'm really excited. Bring it on, second date, bring it on. 

Maybe I'm not so bad at this first date thing, after all, huh? :)

Electrons

"Don't laugh at me, but... maybe we could be each others' soulmates? And then we can let men be these great, nice guys to have fun with?"

~ Charlotte to the girls, SATC Season 4, "The Agony and the 'Ex'-tacy"

In my Playscript Analysis class, we are reading Arcadia by Tom Stoppard. In the show, a lot of mathematical mumbo jumbo is talked about that often goes way over my head. I'm not stupid, but mathematics is just well... boring to me. I think its incredibly impressive and I have respect for any person who can tackle the beast that is mathematics, but on a completely personal basis... I would just rather write about my feelings. Go fig. 

Anyway, we had presentations on different things mentioned within the show. We talked about Mandelbrot sets, Julia sets, chaos theory, and quantum physics. When we were on the topic of quantum physics, my friend and future roommate, Emily, mentioned a thing called string theory.

In string theory, it states that an atom can be split into two different parts, into two different electrons and then sent to either parts of the universe. Even though these electrons are stranded on either side of the great abyss that is the universe, they will be irrevocably drawn to each other, constantly searching to find each other, to bond, and to complete the atom.

Are we electrons? Scattered across the universe from the other half of ourselves, scouring all of the stars, planets, and meteors to find the tiny atomic particle that can complete us? 

When Emily told me about string theory, I instinctively replied with a fantasy filled sigh, romanticizing about how somewhere out there is a little electron that is drawn to me, ready to complete me. 

...but really... is there?

People spend their entire lives searching for their 'soulmates.' The person that they were designed for. But, are we truly designed to complete another person? Or is the idea of a 'soulmate' something someone once upon a time came up with to play pretend and convince him/herself that he/she isn't completely alone?

I think these scientists and mathematicians or whoever deals with these theories is on to something. My friend, Dani, and I were talking about this electron theory. Dani, a pre-med/biology/philosophy major, of course knew exactly what I was talking about and elaborated on this new theory.

She told me, that although the soulmate electrons are destined to be constantly pulled towards each other, on the journey to find 'The One,' the electrons are able to bond with other electrons, they bond with these electrons until they are done, take what they need, and move on continuing their search for their other half. 

So maybe we are electrons. In the big scheme of things, that's what dating is all about. You date, you find a person that your particles can match up with, you bond, and when the time has come to move on you do until you find the person you are meant to be with, the electron that allows you to complete yourself. Your soulmate.

I brought up the electron string theory to my friend, Andrew. Andrew thought the theory was interesting and then said something that really struck me, "You never really know who you 'missing electron' is, but you'll find out when you meet them." Now, I'm sure this wasn't the implied intention, but my overcomplicated, over-thinking began stirring like crazy. Do you know instantly when you meet your electron that they are the one? What if you don't realize that person is your electron until much later in time? What if it's too late?

I have an enormous fear. Probably the thing that worries me most about the dating scene. In my six years of electron adventure, I have already said 'I love you' to two separate boyfriends. Now, I'm an 'I love you' prude. I do not let those three words out unless I truly believe I am in love with a boy. So, already in my life, I have had two loves... how many more am I allowed? How many electrons are you allowed to bond with before all magnetic attraction is gone? Is it possible, as fear-inducing and hopeless as this may be, that eventually you run out chances to bond? You reach your 'I love you/bonding' quota??

Maybe someday I will run across my previous loves and realize that they are the electron that completes me... but for now I'm scared that I only have a few more good bonds in me before I'm toast. This is borderline ridiculous, seeing as how I'm only twenty... but...

It's come to a point in my life where people in my class, people who I went to high school with, my close friends are slowly entering serious relationships, becoming engaged, getting married, having children... the extreme pressure to keep up with these relationship overachievers is daunting. Suddenly, I find myself in a state of panic: Why am I not long term bonding? Should I be engaged? Is there something wrong with me? Have I missed my chance? Did I meet my electron and just miss the feeling, or did I feel it and give up on it?

And what makes this even harder, as a gay man, is the overbearing feeling from the community (or at least my generation), that monogamy is blasphemy, and hook-ups and one night stands are Law. There's fear of commitment. Gay men my age seem to not be interested allowing themselves to bond completely with another, but instead, find quick satisfaction and run, bouncing from one electron orbit to the next searching for the next fast fix. Of course, this is a generalization, there are guys out there who want commitment, but those electrons are far and few between and a little harder to find in this expansive universe. 

And then I remind myself... You're 20. You have plenty of time. Stop stressing. 

How can I when the fear of forever scouring the universe for 'The One' is constantly thrown in my face from every angle? When marriage is the IN thing, growing up is what expected of you, and finding your other half is a necessity... It's exhausting!

And what if...

Just... what if...

'The One' isn't a man at all. And the whole world has got it wrong. What if it's not a lover? Who says your missing electron can't be your best friend. In one of my favorite Sex and the City episode, Charlotte brings up the idea that the girls can be each others' soulmates and men are there to have fun with. My friend K.T. joked around her cat could be her soulmate.

In my book, a soulmate is someone who completes you, someone who will accompany you on this journey for the rest of your life. Maybe... we don't need boyfriends to complete us. Maybe we just need love. 

And after a day of stressing out over past boyfriends and this newly founded string theory, I decided to propose to Diane. I knelt down, extended my hand, and asked Diane to be my soulmate. She said yes. Thank goodness. 

So I will keep surfing through the atomic particles of the world and bonding. And maybe one of the electrons I find with turn out to be the right one for me, and we'll bond for a long, long time. Or maybe, I'll rediscover an electron that I've already bonded with and realize that we belong together. And no matter how much I freak over a quota on love, I know that I decide how many times I can say 'I love you,' I can bond with whomever I want and as many people as I want until I am good and ready. The possibilities are endless, and love is limitless. And should all these bonds fail, I know in the end, it doesn't matter. Because I have something better. Friends who love me, soulmates, like Diane, who will be with me through magnetic storms, and atomic fissures, or whatever the heck atoms have to go through.

Maybe, I'll find my electron, maybe I won't, maybe I already have, maybe he doesn't exist

And maybe it's the people that I hold closest to my heart.

Whatever the situation may be...

The possibilities are endless, and love is limitless. 

Let me begin...

My friends and I have a joke. We are each a character of Sex and the City. My friend, Diane, is Charlotte, due to her sense of romanticism, love and commitment. My friend, Katie, is Samantha due to her resistance against marriage and her ability to be a completely satisfied person single. No one is Miranda because we think she is a heinous hagbitch.

And I'm Carrie. I'm complicated, yet cautious; romantic, yet cynical; confused, yet headstrong. I watch Sex and the City and find Carrie knows my life. I identify with her completely and entirely. I'm a writer, too. It fits. My friend and I fit perfectly in our own little SATC world. 

I love when we get together and relate every happenings in our life to episodes of SATC, I love watching an episode and completely and totally identifying with everything those lovely ladies are talking about. Last summer, before the premiere of the Sex and the City movie, the three of us gathered together each night at one of our houses and had an SATC marathon. As corny and ridiculous as this may sound, it brought the three of us closer together. We were all back from college, all with stories to tell, all with new relationships blooming, and Carrie and the gang to get us going. We spent the nights gabbing about our love lives, nicknaming boys, talking about what makes each us tick and what we want from relationships. 

I have always been an extremely private person with my relationships up until about a year ago. I didn't like to tell the details about any happenings within my boyfriend and I's little world. I still try to remain as private as possible, but instead of hiding the facts from the world, I've learned that I have to share things. Why keep everything bottled inside when you have fabulous girlfriends to listen to your stories and help you through the worst of times and cherish the best of times? 

So, letting out these worlds to two of my closest girls was awesome. By the time of the midnight SATC Movie premiere we were tight, and felt so close to these ladies (both on screen and off). Throughout the movie, we couldn't help but gaps in unison, cry into each others shoulders, and grab onto each other's thighs when something fantastic (or something terrible) happened. We loved these woman on the screen as if they were a part of the posse, and I think we loved these fictional characters so much because they had pushed us to discuss, frankly speak, and open up about our lives to each other. They brought us together.

Since, Sex and the City has been an obsession with me. I love the idea about being open about sex, life, love, and saying, "Hey cutie pie! Listen! Someone out there can relate to you! Here's there story! Come cry, laugh, scream, and love with me!!" 

...and who says I can't be the person saying those things. Who says I have to stay private about my life when I have a fantastic/dramatic/ridiculous/absurd/wonderful life that other people might be able to identify with?

So I'm going to be Carrie. Well, a gay male version of Carrie. I want to write about my sex life, my love life, my friends life, my life. I want to let the world in on what its like to be the gay best friend and the stories that have to be told. Because, maybe, just maybe, there is someone out there who is going through the same thing and needs to know they're not alone. And maybe, by finally being open about these things in my life, I can finally start figuring myself out. 

I'm going to be straight up, I'm not totally doing this blog thing for the sake of helping others, but also for helping myself. There are so many things that are going on in my head, so many stories of bad boyfriends and good boyfriends, betrayal and love, companionship and hate, friendship and lust... I need to spill. For. Real.

So hopefully, someone will relate to me. I'm not Carrie, my life is probably no where near as fantastic and hers is, but I know I have something to say... so I'm going to say it. And maybe I'll figure me out. And maybe someone else can figure themselves out too.

These of the confessions of your gay best friend.

The answers to questions that people are to afraid to ask.

The one's that movies, books, and even other gay men are afraid to talk about.

This is where the gay best friend stops being a supporting role.

And becomes a lead. 

Because its about time someone started talking about it.... 

Holla 

:)