i call them streetwalker people

More for the “Kids Say the Darndest Things” file -

We are playing Go, Stop, Drop, Melt in class, which we have renamed Go, Stop, Drop, and Roll in honor of Little Billy and his flaming hair. (He’s sort of our mascot. Don’t ask.) Eli says “Go as the President of the United States”. Most of the kids are walking with a regal air - I don’t know where they got that idea. One kid, however, is dragging himself along the floor and clawing at people’s ankles. Another student says “Hey, you’re supposed to be the president!” and he responds - as if she is a moron for not knowing better - “I’m John F. Kennedy … right after he got assassinated.”

Same female student says to me “one time at greenlake I saw a streetwalker person and he petted my dog and said ‘hi I like beagles’ but his voice sounded like a little girl and then he spun around and pulled down his pants and pulled them back up again. And he was carrying a garbage bag. I think he was maybe a lot stupid. And then on the way home I saw more streetwalker people and they were doing graffiti of the f-word and I don’t think I should have to see that kind of language when I am going to my dinner.”

full meal deal

First off, hell yeah. My co-teachers (and possibly some 7 Strangers friends) are coming this Saturday, and I can’t wait.

Secondly, I didn’t get to post about my Sunday night. It involved Sjet, a lot of fried chicken, more popsicles than I can remember, cartoons, and waking up in someone else’s bed. It also included the following sound bytes, which probably won’t be nearly as funny to you as they are to me.

Me: Were you trying to decide which hand to eat out of … or talk into?
Her: No, i was thinking

Her: Oh my god, oh my god, I’ve become … THAT GIRL!

Him:What are you doing?
Her:Eating chicken.
Him:No, I mean … what are you doing?
Her:Eating chicken.

Um. There was another REALLY FUNNY one that involved spanking but I am not allowed to post that here.

Today, I spent eight hours in CPR/First Aid training with a guy we like to call Cool Keith. He’s a fireman with crazy burn marks and nine fingers and some of the funniest decapitation stories you will find anywhere. Important quotes include:

the best email i’ve gotten in weeks

Dearest Freesia,

I didn’t get much sleep last night. I kept tossing and turning. I was in a cold sweat. I felt that something in my life was missing; that I was incomplete. I was walking through my day all akimbo. I even felt that my performance that night was off. “Whatever could it be?” I kept asking myself in a sort of hypnotic trance. When I arrived at my tiny studio, I went through the routine with a robotic grace. Key in door, pull in, turn, push open. Up the stairs, left foot, extend, right foot, extend, repeat fourteen times. Top of the stairs, turn right, walk to phone. Pick up reciver, press ‘talk’, check voice mail. Turn left, walk to computer and turn on. Click internet connection. Click Yahoo mail.

That’s when the routine ended.

There it was. Like a beacon in the night. Like the word of God embossed on stone tablets with lightning and fire and bestowed upon Moses. Three little words. Three little words that had the power to fill up the thousands of universes of emptiness that my life had become. Be. My. Friendster. The words that I didn’t even know I longed to read. The words that will have forever changed my life. Yes. Yes, by golly Freesia! A thousand times yes!! I WILL BE YOUR FRIENDSTER!!!!!

-Revelation

just so you know

They are here waiting, whenever you decide you want them.

Today, i want to be

at Francis’ country house from The Secret History. Sitting on the porch with my closest friends, drinking gin out of a teapot, sleeping in the rickety wooden boat while it floats in the pond. Maybe even playing the piano in the dusty library, everything fuzzy and warm and slightly drunk.

here I go, here i go, here i go again

Look at me, being all anxious and pre-empting the Friday Five again. I have another good excuse, though - my show opens tomorrow night, and as soon as it’s done we are all going to party like it’s 1999. Wanna come?

1. What’s one thing you’ve always wanted to do, but never have?

God, all kinds of things. Get more tattoos, or possibly experiment with branding or cutting. Get funky colored contacts. Go through the rite of passage that is the brazilian bikini wax. Parasail. Skinnydip with strangers. Get cast at Schmee. Act in a touring show. Write a play. (Okay, I did that once, but I was eight.) Go on a road trip with my little brother. Certain illegal activities which I will not describe here. Go to grad school and get my MFA. Take horseback riding lessons. Direct “Hot ‘n’ Throbbing” again.

2. When someone asks your opinion about a new haircut/outfit/etc, are you always honest?

Honest, yes. Enthusiastic, no. If it’s bad, I try to be diplomatic. Unless, of course, it’s one of the people in my life that I can absolutely tell the truth to, in which case I let them have it. If it’s GOOD, though, you might not be able to get me to shut up about it. I’m awfully effusive when my friends are looking fine.

3. Have you ever found out something about a friend and then wished you hadn’t? What happened?

Hah. When I was a freshman in high school, I found out that a sophomore friend (who was dating my best friend) was a pot-smoker. I was still a good little self-righteous Christian girl at this point, and I tried to save him. *snicker* God, was that a poor idea. Karmic payback’s a bitch, isn’t it?

4. If you could live in any fictional world (from a book/movie/game/etc.) which would it be and why?

Sometimes I wish I lived in Foxfire, because I would like to just run away with her at the end. Some days I wish I lived in Fight Club, because I want an excuse to hit someone. And some days, I want to live in Aunt Cordelia’s house from Up a Road Slowly. Depends on the day.

5. What’s one talent/skill you don’t have but always wanted?

Sports. Aside from all those years of hopping in a cold pool at the ass-crack of dawn, I pretty much suck at sports, and I wish I didn’t.

I’m in the eye of the storm, where the pressure’s on

There is nothing like the pumping adrenaline of a tech like the one we had last night. Six different short pieces, no real connection between the actors, a group dynamic that essentially amounts to a lot of mutual respect among strangers. We came together to do a reading about a month ago, and now here we are, ready to present the individual masterpieces. Supposedly finished. Since we haven’t seen each other’s work, we are all very suspicious of it. How will it compare with what I’ve done? Who worked hardest? Who is the most talented? Who will get the best reviews? What are these strangers capable of?

Nope. No pressure.

At the beginning of the evening, I am (to steal a line from my show) in a paralyzed panic. Due to the Martian Death Flu (which I caught, carried to Minnesota, disseminated there, and returned with,) I had to cancel a whole week of rehearsals. NATURE FACT: It’s hard to rehearse a monologue show when you don’t have a voice. I’ve been fighting valiantly to get the damn thing memorized, and it just ain’t coming. Our first day of tech is my FIRST TIME OFF-BOOK EVER. As the only monologue component of this show, I’ve kind of been the freak of this group from the beginning. I really wanted to knock their socks off, but by the beginning of the night all I want to do is crawl into my own socks and hide there.

I am last. By the time we tech through everything and get to me, it is Really Fucking Late. I don’t have much voice left. I am petrified of forgetting my lines in front of the other actors - directors - playwrights - tech staff who are all going to be seeing this for the first time. I do push-ups and lunges backstage to try to wake myself up. My blood feels like petroleum jelly slogging its way through my veins. I wasn’t previously aware that it was possible to be filled with this much dread while still hardly having the energy to breathe.

My pre-show music comes on, and everything comes into focus. For the next fifteen minutes, I don’t remember much. Really bright lights. More music, and then some more music. Laughing. My lines come from God Knows Where, but everything works better than it ever has before. When I finally exit, I nearly lose my sea-legs. Later, one friend will tell me “Shit. That was really, really good.” Another actor will say that it was “inspiring. I was tripping right along with you.”

This is why I do monologue shows. This is why I do theatre. Thank god for legal forms of catharsis.

Please come.

Also, I thought this was funny. Happy Tuesday.

It’s Not The Herb But The Spice With The Flavor To Spare

Dear Leslie,

I hope the monsters haven’t gotten you. You haven’t written in awhile and I’m starting to get worried that you are trapped in your hair somewhere and can’t get to a pen. I’ve been taking notes, though, and I’ve learned a few things myself. (Sometimes Jinx, Ida Sly, and Hot Mol help.)

1. Coconut popsicles are for dipping. In scotch.
2. Shared history isn’t always enough. People change.
3. When four hot girls are sewing and ironing in front of open windows in their underwear, they are probably going to acquire an audience.
4. Looking for local cake? Might I suggest you go back to college!
5. Mowing a lawn is almost as fun as smoking and watching.
6. Beauty is terror.
7. Lower your expectations, and you won’t be disappointed. Seriously. Fuck this meet-me-in-the-middle crap and just give up the ghost already.
8. Flattery will get you everywhere.
9. Half a brownie is enough.
10. Sometimes you just have to buy the slinky little black dress, whether you have a reason to wear it or not.

I hope your weekend was as good as mine.
-Inez

pre-emptive

I know it isn’t really friday yet, but I have the day off tomorrow for SHAVUOT (thank you, Jewish place of employment, thank you) and I don’t plan on being awake or productive for any of it. Plus, I just got done stuffing myself at Stella’s with Sjet and I have a bee in my bonnet.

Ahem.

1. How many times have you truly been in love?

Truly truly, twice. How many times did I think I was in love? Crank that number up a couple.

2. What was/is so great about the person you love(d) the most?

I can’t answer this question. Not to go all “hippie woo-woo bullshit” on you, as Sjet would put it, but I don’t think this question is even valid. There wasn’t a most and a least, there were just (drastically) different types of love.

3. What qualities should a significant other have?

Please have a sense of humor. Be flexible. Know how to pick your battles. And mostly, make me feel like the truest version of myself when we’re together. This may be done by coaxing, teasing, or all-out ass-kicking. (This is a stylistic choice and is entirely up to you.) Also, it should be noted that “truest” doesn’t mean “prettiest” or “most presentable”. I know this.

4. Have you ever broken someone’s heart?

Truthfully, I don’t know. Have I had my heart broken? Yes. That shit ain’t pretty.

5. If there was one thing you could teach people about love, what would it be?

If you don’t take it so damn seriously, you won’t be so unhappy later. Trust me.

p.s. Dating “rules” are bullshit, and if you’re dumb enough to think that you need to wait a certain number of days after a date to call, you probably deserve to be alone. Save the power-trip mind games for your online role-playing.

oh, i almost forgot

Come to my show. I know you want to.

halle-freaking-lujah

Just received this email from Sjet:

Patrickt’s mom just called! He’s Alive! He’s mostly okay!

We are so glad, rockstar. When he can, I want to go out to eat with you and him and Yuki again, and maybe we can have more lamps fall on our heads. Maybe we can play some more cut-throat trivial pursuit. Mostly we can hang out and be happy about the fact that we are all together, and mostly okay.

(heart.)

look around and wonder why you were always there for me

Unsettled. This is a word that I’d never really heard, and had definitely never used before a certain ex-boyfriend introduced me to it. Dictionary.com defines it like this, but I think there’s more to it. They don’t mention anything about the feeling of impending doom. They don’t mention that strange psychological itching, and the sensation that something had better happen quickly or everything will melt right before your eyes. And nowhere do they include the part where you overthink things and draw connections where logically, there are none.

Today, I’ve been thinking about Ernie. As I posted earlier, a certain friend of a friend has gone AWOL. He is, essentially, her Ernie - despite a few obvious differences in circumstance and temperament. I’ve been pondering what I would do if the situation were shifted. I’m wondering what the hell I would be able to do. I’m trying to figure out what I would be capable of.

Feeling unsettled makes you vitally aware of what you have. Why it’s good and important and necessary. Some of you might notice that I’ve been a little clingy the past few days. A little scattered, a little frantic. Maybe you’ve come home from work to find a new email from me in your inbox every day this week. I’m just trying to make as many tangible connections as possible with the people who make my existence feel grounded and well-rounded and memorable. The people who have invoked some sort of visceral reaction in me over the past few weeks. If you don’t feel like arguing over the semantics of whatever the emails I’ve been sending are about, don’t sweat it…. but please feel free to call me anyway. If I’m not in rehearsal or at work, I’ll probably be pretty fucking happy to hear your voice.

(Kudos to Yuki, who jumped on this train before I even knew it was boarding. You have this uncanny timing and I always find voicemails from you just when I need them most. Thank you.)

i do

Read this, please. After living through the wedding of the only woman I could ever marry, a lot of this hit pretty close to home. (Thanks, Liz.)

Life is fickle. Hellish.

Anemic. Sickle cellish… Friends memories fade. You’re remembered by what you’ve made.
-MC P.B.

I had a run - which lasted for almost a month - of things being really fucking great. Sweet new job. Great show. Travelling. Seeing people I love. Being pretty damn happy about the general state of things. And in the past few days, it feels like everything is going to hell in a karmic shitstorm the length and breadth of which I haven’t experienced in years. Patrickt is still missing. A friend of mine told me that his partner has HIV. An old friend broke up with her boyfriend and had her car broken into. A marriage between a couple of people who mean a lot to me seems to be falling apart. People are getting fired for stupid reasons. What the fuck? Is this a phase of the moon? All I know is that I’m tired of watching people I love go through hard shit, and I think it’s about time for things to turn around.