Tuesday, March 31, 2009
I'm not really here, I'm just checking in.
This is not a real post. It is a figment of the imagination (a fig of the i-madge).
Oh my gawd. Does anyone remember Figment and Dream Finder, the Epcot characters in the 80's? Of course, we called them "Fagment" and "Wet Dream Finder." You know us Disney Boys . . .
The photo above is the costume that I wore in the 99 Cents Calendar Girl Competition show. It closed this past weekend. It was an unforgettable performing experience chock full of unadulterated joy and lovely insanity.
Once again, I must thank both Prince and Quin for leading me to this unique and oh-so-happy experience.
Tomorrow I am off to England to join a reunion with dancers that I worked with on board Princess Cruises.
I miss you. I miss reading your blogs.
Doing the 99 Cents show and the anticipation of going to England have both given me oodles of joy these past couple of months. But they have also been enormous distractions, albeit welcome ones.
When I return, it's back to business. Back to writing and blogging regularly. Back to reading your blog posts more consistently. And back to working on and completing Scooter Boy.
I promise I'll be back, Mikey. I miss you too!
Monday, March 16, 2009
BFF Kathy loaned me her copy of The Road by Cormac McCarthy. I had not heard anything about it, although I soon found out that many others were familiar with the book (I think Oprah touted it on her show). I enjoy diving into novels or even films that I know nothing about - without any hype - so that I don't have any expectations.
I am about halfway through. I did not enjoy it, at first. It was too much death and constant ashes and desolation. It was depressing.
Work has been difficult, lately. And frustrating. I feel isolated and cut off from the world now that we are completely restricted from Internet surfing, including from facebook and personal blogs. I want fun. I want escapism. Not the hopelessness of survivors of a nuclear holocaust.
Not to be too much of the drama queen, but I almost feel like the father and son who are traveling in the post-apocalyptic world of The Road. They are cold and lonely and scared and so very hungry and malnourished and not healthy and constantly feeling hopeless. And yet they trudge on.
The story line, in its extremity, is also helping to give me perspective. It's helping me to appreciate many of the little things in life. What if there were to be a nuclear war in our lifetime? And worse yet, what if we were to be one of the few survivors? So many things that we take for granted would be gone.
As much as I don't want to get up for work in the cold mornings, I'm lucky that I have a warm bed to get out of, and walls around me and a roof above. I'm lucky that I have two healthy snuggly dogs to make the bed even warmer.
I've become more aware of - and therefore, more grateful for - the fact that I can stand under hot clean water in the shower, every day, and sometimes more than once a day.
In this specific time in our country's history, I'm fortunate to even have a job to bitch about.
I'm lucky that I get to be in a show, right now, something that is really fun for me. It is my escapism. And all because Quin was willing to share her extra ticket with me and I saw it and loved it and wanted to be part of it, and so I asked the director about submitting myself and two months later I'm performing in it.
Life is not always that direct and simple. Or easy. Or even bountifully excessive.
I'm lucky that I have more than enough chocolate chip cookies to eat on a daily basis (to the point of needing to watch my weight) even if they are the generic brand from Stater Brothers supermarket.
Today, I was grateful for the fact that I still really enjoy the dance music from Britney's fourth album "In the Zone" and that I can easily access my own endorphins by dancing around the kitchen to her frothy bubble gum pop music.
I could go on and on.
And I do. I continue on my personal road, thankful for what I've enjoyed and loved in the past, and thankful for the good things I anticipate in the near and not-so-near future, all while trying to be fully aware and present in the moment.
I'm lucky to have such perpetual and continuing resources to fuel my optimism.
Sunday, March 8, 2009
So, I was alone in the men's room at Coco's restaurant, standing at a urinal and thinking about how good life is.
It was a Saturday morning and Domestic Partner and I had decided to go out for a leisurely breakfast. We had just ordered and I needed to wash my hands. I was physically exhausted but still on an emotional endorphin high from the night before, having re-opened the second extension of the 99 Cents Only Calendar Girl Competition. I had a blast doing my first performance.
All of the work of rehearsal is over. It was time to relax and savor the sheer joy of performing live again. And I had the whole Saturday stretched out before me, before the evening's performance, a whole day to attend to what had been neglected. I actually looked forward to buying groceries, doing laundry and vacuuming.
I felt content and peaceful, savoring also the anticipation of seeing close friends in England next month, shortly after the show closes.
It was then that I finally noticed that my aim was off. I was missing the urinal and wetting the tiled floor of Coco's men's room.
Life is good. It sure ain't perfect, but it's good.