Well. OK. Let me just give you the 411 real quick.
I’m currently trying to secure an audition for a cycle of one acts about foot fetishes. The casting notice said, “Tall, handsome man with big feet.” Um. HI. HI. IT’S ME… GOLIATH. CAST ME. (Cue Meagan Well’s broken wrist cast)
Also. I have an audition for a cabaret on Friday. I’m a little sick now so send some good juju my way.
I got my dance shoes in the mail yesterday! …and then I got them again today… Yes. I currently have 4 pairs of jazz shoes and 2 pairs of jazz shoes. I only paid for half. I shall keep them. And I shall name them WIN. Now who didn’t see that coming?
Bought my ticket to come home for Thanksgiving today. I figure I have the money, and I would like to come home. So. I shall.
Now let me get gritty.
So this morning I bought some new music and I’m VERY satisfied. I bought: the new Gavin Degraw CD, the new David Guetta CD, the new Demi Lovato CD, “You and I” by Gaga and “Get Outta My Way” by Kylie Minogue. For some reason, my iPod only decided to show some of my music and delete the rest. So, my friends, I had HALF of the new Demi album and then I had the song “Get Outta My Way”. So. Naturally, I listened to “Get Outta My Way” FIVE times. In a row. (Here it is if you are unfamiliar: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BHGaW8lBlSk&ob=av2e ) So. I’m on the subway listening to this Kylie song for the trillionth time. And I had been feeling the boulder in my stomach swell this morning. But I didn’t know what to do about it so, naturally, I ignored it. But by the 5th time, I started tearing up to this song. And I don’t know why. Well I sort of do. I all of a sudden got so lonely. And I thought about the song “Anytime” and I thought, ‘God, I want someone to sing that to me and really mean it.’ Ya know? Cuz when you see performers sing those love songs and you think, ‘Wow, they really love whoever they’re singing about.’ And I want that. But I had that. And the thought of that person singing that song about me makes me wanna tear my eyes out. And this point you may think:
Skeptic: Still? Still, James?
Me: When was the last time you had your heart broken?
Skeptic: *thinks back but can’t recall the exact time cuz it’s been a long ass time since they chose to forget how much it hurts*
So. I teared up on the subway. Cuz I want that so badly but I also don’t. Man, I sound like a broken-ass record, don’t I?
And I’m also haunted by this: I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to automatically believe what people tell me. It’s like, the second something comes out of someone’s mouth, I have to discern, “Truth or fabrication?” And it’s so exhausting. And I suppose this is where you would say:
You: James. Eventually you just had to let go and trust what people say.
Me:…you’re in love, aren’t you?
And all the while, the boulder in my stomach just sits and sits and sits and scratches its butt and sits and sits and sits.
Yes, I should work out.. in order to be more appealing to myself and others. Yes, I should sing so I maintain my abilities. Yes, I should dance for the same reasons. Yes, I should work to keep my apartment. Yes, I should audition to follow my dreams. Yes, I should sleep all the while. And yes, I should find a way to balance all these things while some how maintaining a social life.
And here’s the last thing. Today I was walking down 23rd st in Chelsea which is ALWAYS good for my self-esteem. But today. TODAY. This guy I walked past STOPPED his conversation with his friend, bore his eyes into me and turned his head as I walked by. Literally, his jaw might as well have been dragging on the pavement. And in my humble, honest opinion, I looked like F-balls. My weave was greasy-time. My forehead was coming in close second for Greaseball of the Year. I was carrying TWO bags like a Bag Lady/Man/Cat-Dog. Ok, I jest a tad, but on the real, I was NOT on my A-Game. And I just thought to myself, ‘Wow. This person is, like, FLOORED by my looks when I’m not even trying.’ And then I thought, ‘Isn’t that how it’s supposed to be: you just want to be with that person no matter how fucked up they look?’
I want that/don’t want that. Someone once told me, “I’m so fascinated by you, that you can feel two conflicting feelings at the same time.” Haven’t you ever felt that? Wanting something so badly and scared shartless of it simultaneously?
And all I’m left with is questions. And I’m still pouring it out on the internet. For…. reasons unknown to me. Just thought I’d keep people updated on my life.
I saw Completeness the other night at Playwrights Horizon. Playwright: Itamar Moses. It just TOTALLY illuminated my feelings and the way our generation works. One of the characters is like, my age, and she’s talking about relationships. She says, “This is just a… terrible terrible generation to be part of. To know just enough to know that this stuff never works. But not enough to know what exactly we’re supposed to do about it.” The play is just about all the what-ifs.
So. I know enough to ask all the right questions. But I don’t know enough to know what the fuck to do about it. (Aunt Mel, if you read this: I’m sorry but the F word was most appropriate.)
“Get outta my way. Get.Outta my way. Got no more to say.”
~”Get Outta My Way” by Kylie Minogue