quick question

Am I a bad person for going on two dates with two different women in one evening? Discuss.

Big Brother

Little digression to start with, but I'll get to the story. Eventually.

I comment on other sites occasionally, and one of the things that I hate the most is when someone posts as "anonymous". Now, I don't mind the fact that they are protecting their identity - a lot of people, including myself, conceal information about their lives for various reasons. What I hate is the fact that they run in, make some snide comment, and then take off, leaving you little chance to respond.

I just had a little back-and-forth with one such poster on Desperate Husband's website - click on the link to see the conversation. One of the points he brought up was why I choose to hide my true identity.

As long time readers of the site know, one of the reasons that I hide so much information is because the entertainment industry is very small, and talking smack about the wrong person can land you squarely on a blacklist. And, since my big paydays are most likely ahead of me, I'm probably better off holding my tongue. So that's why I have the cute names for the places I work in, and the clever handle, and why I sometimes will give a little misdirection on the things I am doing. For instance, I ended up on a new TV show (which probably will never see the light of day) this summer, and I had a couple of big auditions for some high-profile stuff. But talking about those shows and/or projects in detail could potentially get me (or other people) in trouble. Hence the cloak-and-dagger stuff.

ANYWAY...this is all a big preamble to the introduction of my latest obnoxious cast member. 'Cause one of the other reasons I remain nameless is so that I can talk smack about people like this...

We'll call this guy Big Brother. Why? Well, he's black like me, for one, and he's taken it on his shoulders to try and "show me the ropes" in Cowtown, both professionally and personally. Never mind the fact that I've been here before, and have some friends here, or that I've done more professional gigs this year than he's done in his whole life. No...he still has to tell me where I should get my hair cut, etc.

I want to smack him.

He's a terrible actor. Suri, who is also in the show with me, has indicated that they basically cast him because they had no other options.

He also has the most annoying habit of jumping on a joke when everyone else is finished. And then, to make matters worse, he'll carry the joke too far. Take yesterday, for instance. Our director was remarking on some fabulous new shoes she was wearing (and I could really care less about shoes, but they were pretty cute), and then everybody else says the usual; "Oh, how nice!". And then Big Brother jumped in.

BIG BROTHER: Yeah, Director, those are some very nice shoes.

DIRECTOR: Yes, I think so. I like them.

BIG BROTHER: Yeah, Director, you...you...you lookin' pretty trendy with those shoes on. The kids gonna say you a trendsetter!

DIRECTOR: Well...thank you, Big Brother.

BIG BROTHER: Yeah, Director, pretty soon...you...you gonna have those sixteen year old boys all up on ya! Yeah!

DIRECTOR: Huh. Well, that's why I have Suri.


It's gotten to the point where I can barely look at him, and it's gotten really difficult for me to carry on a conversation with him. I'm sure I'll have more ammunition soon, as we have two ten-hour days upcoming...

a new site to visit

Politically, I'm left of center. Clinton-esque, I suppose. Not quite a liberal, but definitely on the left.

However, my new favorite political blog is courtesy of TIME's Andrew Sullivan, an atypical conservative.

Maybe I just like the fact that someone is talking about their political beliefs in measured tones, instead of trying to drown out everybody else. I think that I could actually have a civilized conversation with Mr. Sullivan about where our country is headed. We might even be able to agree on some things, if we talked long enough.

If I had had more exposure to voices like his when I was studying politics, I may not have changed course...

old school

I was driving home from the gym at noon, and the local hip hop station started playing their "Old School Midday Mix". And I was totally into the music.

And then I remembered, as a kid, how whenever these things would come on the radio, I would roll my eyes in disgust, and beg my parents to change the channel. That music was for old people, I thought. I want to hear all of the new stuff.

So you can imagine how I felt when I put those two thoughts together. If I ever needed evidence that I'm a full fledged adult, this is pretty damning. I feel old.

playing the race card

There's a pretty heated Senate race going on in Tennessee, where it's possible that the South could elect their first black senator since Reconstruction. Amazing, right?

Anyway, there are some people out there who are sinking pretty low in order to insure that Ford doesn't win. The RNC put together a television commercial that's generating quite a bit of controversy. Check out the commercial and the corresponding article here.

Discuss.

in the dumps - but moving soon

Short trip to Sleepy Hamlet this weekend. I needed to see a doctor, and it was a lot easier to pop over there and see my old doc rather than explaining everything to a new physician who I didn't know or trust. Saw the important peeps, which was great. Suri drove me up - I always believe that true friendship is surviving a long car trip together. We survived.

It's been kind of a rough few days, which is why I haven't posted. I'm kind of tired of always putting negative stuff up all the time. I mean, this reflects my life, so if I'm in a funk, that's what you're getting. Wynter mentioned a while back, however, that there seemed to be a lot of frustrations and such, so I've definitely been looking for the positive.

In case you're keeping score at home, these past few days I:

- found out I probably won't be making it home for the holidays (both Thanksgiving and Christmas) for the first time ever

- broke things off with the X after two grueling, heart-wrenching two-hour-long conversations on consecutive days

- saw my bank account dwindle down close to zero

- watched the Steelers lose...again

- had a near meltdown in rehearsal - a story that I can't really get into on the blog for security reasons - let's just say that the play, while on track to be very good, is veering off in a direction that I never foresaw, and I can't quite get on track with everybody else

But, if there's one thing I've learned, it's that I'm pretty tough. I've got most of the next two days off, so I can concentrate on working on my script and exercising and eating all of the healthy food I got from Trader Joe's (my favorite grocery store). Maybe even sit in the hot tub of the Main House.

Hope that all are doing well.

go (O)bama go!

We just may be saved after all.

I just hope that it's not too soon.

For tuckergurl, who is in lockstep with me on this issue.

no gobble

If you thought I wasn't happy last night...well, that doesn't compare to right now.

I was on the internet looking for plane tickets (on kayak.com, my new favorite site for my travel needs) and I can't get to Grandma's house for under $500. And, for that $500 ticket, I wouldn't even get to be there for 24 hours.

I've never missed a Thanksgiving with my family in my life. The thought of not being there...well, I wouldn't call it devastating, but it's close. Extremely close.

When it rains, it pours, I guess.

right round, baby, right round

Post #250, by the way, right here. Yay me.

My mind is like a gerbil in an exercise wheel, spinning around and around. I hate that. Little agitated tonight...bear with me...

I wish that I could turn to the back of The Book of the Universe, like I used to do with my textbooks in math class, and find out the answers to my life. Move across the country, or take the job offer in BFE, or chase the dream in Manhattan? Make the relationship work, or chase a lot of tail, or split the difference? Paper or plastic?

(That last one is actually easy - the answer is paper. Must be one of the odd-numbered ones.)

I came here to do my little show and to relax. I'm getting more than I bargained for, on every front. It's overwhelming. I had such a clear plan for my life.

It keeps disintegrating.

Sometimes it's my fault. Sometimes the fault lies with someone else. Sometimes it's no one's fault.

I had a conversation-turned-argument with X tonight, and one of the things she said to me was, "You always want things to be easy. Things aren't easy. You have to accept that." She's totally right.

I think that right now I just need to start going with my gut. I need to say what's on my mind, to go with my instinct, even if that is unorthodox, or incomprehensible to others, or "not the done thing". If I want to quit acting and become an accountant, I'm going to do that. If I think I should be naked in a scene, my pants are coming off. If I want to date a koala bear, I won't apologize to anyone for loving a marsupial. If I want to have Taco Bell for breakfast, I'm going to do that too. I already started following this principle tonight, turning down a flattering offer from an attractive young lady, because my instincts told me that it wouldn't be as simple as come upstairs and hang out for a while. And simple, right now, is just what I need. Forget the others. Focus on ME.

I have to take my life back. Stop reacting, start acting.

(Oh, the irony.)

(And, by the way, if you're reading this - and you know who you are - you should come clean about the fact that you are reading this. Like, right now. An e-mail will suffice.)

wildlife

Leaving the driveway of my "complex" today, I looked both ways as I prepared to pull out of the driveway onto the street (as every good driver should)...and what is at the end of the street, to my left?

Turkeys.

Three of 'em.

Just hangin' out in the road.

Is it wrong that, aside from giving me a bit of a chuckle, it made me hungry?

my "weekend" plans

We have an unusual schedule this week, for various and sundry reasons, so instead of getting yesterday off, we're not working today. This is throwing my clock mildly out of whack, but what are you gonna do? (I have noticed, of late, that this is turning into my new favorite phrase.)

The big things on my agenda for my day off? Grocery shopping, checking out the gym that just opened a few minutes away from the Guest House, and watching Friday Night Lights. I thought about learning lines, but figured that if I don't touch the script today, I'll be fresher for t'm'row.

I'm really excited about the gym. They were building it last time I was here, so I went with a gym close to ToC. That was great for lunchtime workouts, but it was really hard to motivate myself to drive into the city to go to the gym if I didn't have rehearsal. And it became ever tougher when I started doing shows. Who wants to spend an hour in the car - round trip - and then, after showering and eating, do the exact same trip again? It just wasted time and gas. So, if this new gym can give me a competitive price, I'm in.

Sleepy Hamlet trip next weekend - details to come...

oh, man...

I just watched one of the most incredible collapses in NFL history. (Not that most of you care, but I just had to share.)

You have to feel bad for the Cardinals, and especially Matt Leinart - he did everything he could possibly have done. And they lost. On a missed field goal. For the second week in a row. This one, however, was ten times worse.

At the same time, this is why I love sports. It's natural drama. This is the ultimate reality television.

Hope everyone's well. Real post coming t'm'row.

(sigh)

Apparently, ToC is having to replace an actor in my play - days before rehearsal begins - because they NEVER WENT OVER THE REHEARSAL SCHEDULE WITH HIM. He assumed they would be working nights; ToC (because it is a professional theater) works days.

I'm so disgusted that I could spit.

ahhhhhhhh

'member the other day, when I said that I hadn't relaxed yet?

I'm there now. Thanks for the concern. ;-)

Generally, when I do a show, I like to hit the ground running. I show up the evening before, go to the grocery store that night, unpack my food and clothes, and then go right to sleep so that I can be ready for rehearsal the next day.

The Theater of Cowtown, where I work, however, is not the most organized company in the world. They sent me an e-mail late last week telling us that there would be no rehearsal on Tuesday (or Thursday, for that matter), and that we'd just have a read-thru on Wednesday. Cool, I thought. I knew I would have a long day of flying on Monday, so I could just do all of my normal set-up stuff on Tuesday, and then get to work the next day.

Then my friend called. Let's call her Suri (same color hair as the Cruise baby - hey, give me a break...I just woke up). Suri works for the Theater of Cowtown (ToC for short) and was in the last show with me here. We did time together in Sleepy Hamlet.

"So, the theater doesn't have enough money right now," she informs me, "so we're not going to rehearse until Friday. They just need a few days to get their finances in order. Don't worry, we're still getting paid."

(Suri is the same friend who wanted me to go to LA with her, which she then pitched to me in the next breath like she had just written the Great American Movie.)

So there it was. I was staring three days in Cowtown, with nothing to do and virtually no one to talk to.

And, so far, it's been fantastic.

I'm a go go guy (not a dancer, ha ha). I have a habit of preaching the virtues of taking the odd day off, but I rarely do it. So it's nice to have a few days where I can be totally by myself, and do whatever I want to do. I went to the movies last night, I may go again today, I watched Friday Night Lights - and I agree with L.Britt's assessment of the show, it's fantastic - and got caught up on some prime-time TV.

Come Friday, I'll be chomping at the bit to go. And probably better prepared to do so.

stop the ride...i wanna get off

Wow.

Sooooooo tired.

A whirlwind few days. Went to visit G'ma this weekend, which meant sleeping on couch cushions artfully positioned on the floor. Finished saying my good-byes in NY. Suffered through the Steelers' Sunday night debacle. Woke up at ten to six yesterday morning to begin my trek to the airport. Three flights, three time zones and 15 hours later, I found myself in Cowtown.

I have a good friend who works at the theater I'm doing this show at, and she very badly wanted me to go to LA with her. It's not a long drive from here, but it was long enough to make me question whether or not I wanted to spend any more time in transit. I felt bad, but I had to decline. Smartest thing I've ever done.

She actually almost had me convinced, in my jet-lagged stupor, last night. But I woke up this morning in the comfy bed in my guest house, and I realized, mere seconds after gaining consciousness, that there was no way that I was going to spend another night on a couch. My butt was staying in Cowtown.

Off to the grocery store for round two of shopping - don't you just hate it when you go to one store and they only have, like, 75% of the things you need? Terrible.

escape from New York

Sitting at JFK (wow, I've never started a post with thatbefore...) getting ready to take JetBlue back to Cowtown. Thank God for JetBlue, by the way. They make flying bearable. I've got the middle seat on this flight, but I think that the DirecTV will distract me from the umpteen hours I'm going to spend between two people who will invariably be bigger than me. Why can't I ever sit beside waifs?

I keep thinking that I'll be able to relax, but it hasn't happened yet. Hopefully the buttery leather will finally allow me to take a deep breath. I have a feeling that I won't be totally loose until I get to the phat guest house in the 'burbs...

Off to claim my middle seat. See you on the other side.

procrastinating

I hate packing. I'll do anything to avoid it. So I'm sitting here in Brooklyn, blogging and playing with my blog template (I switched to Beta, which is a total mixed bag) - anything to avoid going back to Queens to face my piles of paper and mounds of clothes that have to be sorted and packed up and taken away by UPS, or my father, or by me on Monday morning.

And I've now set up my schedule so that it will be as difficult as possible for me to get organized. I'm meeting a friend in the park at 2:30, and then I'm going to a class at 5:30, and then I'm seeing a friend play at 9, and meeting more friends for drinks at 10 (one of those friends is Bluto, meaning that it won't be an early night). And t'm'row I'm going to go visit my grandmother for the weekend. And then the Steelers play Sunday night.

So many things to do! So little motivation!

waiting

Don't you hate it when you have one of those situations where you make plans with a person, and then you're not 100% sure if the person will be available? And you try to contact them, but they're not picking up the phone, or responding to text messages or e-mails. Then you have two choices:

1. Do I stay where I am, and risk the inevitable possibility that the person will be waiting for me at the scheduled time, and they'll be annoyed because "we made plans"?

2. Or do you go to the appointed meeting place, and risk finally talking to the person and having them say, "Sorry, I had a meeting/went to lunch with the boss/didn't think you would actually come"?

Such a conundrum!

I've chosen option #1, by the way.


Update: The inevitable possibility of option #1 came true, meaning that she's pissed. Great work, Rover. Perhaps I should put my clairvoyancy to work picking football games, or playing the stock market...

the reveal

Question for all of you out there - do any of you have spouses, or significant others, or family, or close friends who know about the existance of your blog but haven't read it? Are any of those people curious as to what you write about? Do they pester you for access? How do you deal with it?

I've been dealing with that for a while.

Some time back - I think it may have been in January - my X learned that I had a blog. She asked me what I wrote about, and I told her what was on it. She asked if I ever wrote about her. Not very often, I said (which was pretty true at the time - I had only just started blogging about dating then). She asked if she could see it, and I kind of gave her the run-around, told her I'd send her the address, changed the topic...didn't send it. Since then she's asked several times, and I'd always manage to change the subject.

Until Friday.

The X and I (she really needs a better "handle") have been hanging out for the last month or so, trying to see if there's still a "there" there, if you know what I mean. The reasons that I haven't blogged about this are for another post, but for the most part things have been going well. Anyway, on Friday night, she kind of pinned me down, told me that she wanted to see it. I tap-danced for a while, but then she said something that kind of stopped me. "I want to know all of you," she said, "and if you're writing things in a public journal, I'd like to know that too. Even if I don't like all of it."

So I did what I generally do in these situations. I compromised. I agreed that I would show her a Word document version of my blog. (I've actually been meaning to do this - copy everything I've got - because I'm investigating moving off of Blogger onto another site, and I'd like to keep around the old posts.) I'm editing some of the identifying features - not referring to Cowtown or Steak City, or K Lance or The Rover - and taking out the links; all of the content, however, will remain intact. I told her that I didn't want to give her the web address because I was afraid that I might not feel as free to write if I knew she was looking at it. She agreed.

Actually, as I've been cutting and pasting all of these old entries, I've realized that I'm not ashamed of anything I've written. Why should I be? I think that I'm a pretty truthful person, and what I've put up here is the truth. At least, it's my truth. I mean, I don't think I would want Awkward Dude or the bratty kid from Steak City to see what I've written about them, but I think that pretty much everything else is fit for public consumption.

I'm curious to see what other people think about this decision (not that it's going to change my mind), as well as seeing if anybody else has dealt with this. Fire away...

party time

Because there is SO much to write about...

As I mentioned in the previous post, I went to the Yankee game with an old friend of mine, from grad school. He and I were actually roommates for a couple of years as well. Let's call him "Bluto", after John Belushi's character in Animal House.

Bluto is totally the life of the party. He's extremely good looking (I've heard him described as looking Clooney-esque) and even more charismatic. He can drink you under the table and will party until the sun comes up. And this weekend, he was in rare form. We didn't meet any ladies at the Stadium, but after the game he wanted to take me out to explore the "scene".

And, for being in the Bronx, Yankee Stadium has quite a bar scene. And that scene has quite an impressive amount of attractive young women decked out in all sorts of Yankee attire.

Bluto immediately made eye contact with a girl across the bar and bought her a drink. So we met her and her four friends, who were up from Jersey. Have I also mentioned that Bluto also manages to find the most attractive women? I wasn't that impressed with the woman from across the room, but up close...damn. Soon, however, another lady grabbed my friend's attention, so he left me to hold down the fort with the four ladies. Now, I've got a little game, but not that much (and I'm not really looking for any action these days, which is a story for another day), so after about ten minutes I found myself without those four girls, fending off advances from another woman who had sidled up to me at the bar.

Bluto and I decided to head into Manhattan to meet up with another friend of ours, who (sticking with the Animal House theme) I'll call Otter. (You know, Eric Stratton, rush chairman, damn glad to meet you.) Otter is another great looking guy who is a fast-rising star in the entertainment industry. Let's put it this way - if I suddenly have to end this blog because I've landed a starring role on a TV show, it will probably be because of Otter. He's also a really attractive guy who has ladies all over him, but he's really looking for Ms. Right.

On the train, Bluto started chatting up more ladies. And this was just a warm-up for the restaurant we met Otter at, where Bluto ended up simultaneously chatting with six different woman - a table of three, a table of two, and the waitress. I think that between the Bronx and the gaggle of ladies, he scored three phone numbers. All before eleven.

But, at this point, I had consumed several beers (more than four, less than ten; I'm not really sure - let's say seven to be safe) and had to slow down. We had some other people meet up with us, and then I went about about 2:30 - they kept partying.

As I told my brother yesterday, Bluto is a great guy, and superfun to hang out with. But, if you do it on a regular basis, your liver starts to hurt. And, when we were living together, it actually started to disrupt my every day life. And there's no changing him, either - many women have tried, and failed. He's always been a good friend to me, don't get me wrong, but he's also that party guy who will probably never stop partying. You just have to love him for who and what he is.

You'll probably get one more post today...

baseball

This weekend I went to my first Yankee game. It's kind of a travesty that I've never been to one before, considering that my father is actually from the Bronx, but that's another story for another day. Yankee Stadium was MUCH better than I thought. Of course, it didn't hurt that my friend has great seats - you feel like you're playing left field.

I used to be a huge baseball junkie when I was a little kid. I remember being four years old and reading the sports page, struggling to pronounce "DeJesus". I played for ten years, going from being the worst kid on the team when I was 11 to the best when I was 15. But when my junior year came along, I realized that I couldn't do three hours of baseball practice immediately followed by three hours of rehearsal for the school musical AND keep my grades up. So I ran track instead (practice for that was only an hour and a half), and the dream died.

It's very similiar to what happened to my father, actually, He played all through high school. The Mets offered him a tryout contract, but my father turned it down because he wanted to go to college. He was all set to play with the college team when the coach came up to him one day. I obviously wasn't around, but, knowing my father, I beileve the conversation went something like this:


COACH: Sandwich, can I speak to you a minute?

DAD: Sure, Coach. What's up?

COACH: Sandwich, I noticed that you've got your major listed as engineering here. Is that right?

DAD: Yessir.

COACH: Well, son, engineering is a really tough major. Those classes are long and hard. Lots of math.

DAD: Yessir. I like math.

COACH: Well, our players generally have a...lighter schedule, so to speak. You should probably look for another major.

DAD: But, Coach, I want to be an engineer.

COACH: Let me put it like this, son. You're either on my baseball team, or you can study your engineering. (smirks) You get my point?

DAD: Loud and clear, sir. (pause) Good luck with your season.



I swear, sometimes I'm so much like my father, it's scary.

Kind of inspired to blog, so there may be a few new posts in rapid succession - especially since I will now be moving into full procrastination mode, to keep from packing...