The Elephant Song (70, Girls, 70)

I feel like a new blog, but don't feel like writing anything in particular so I'll repost this msn conversation I just had with that dude I dated for like two weeks last year. We haven't spoken in months and months but he's kept in touch with one of my fruit flies. He messaged me out of the blue today. This conversation reminds me of why I liked him.

Him
Dear Skinny-Rabbit,
Please be advised that I have been doing my best to tend to Susan's (heretoforth, "Your Fag Hag") emotional needs in your absence. While I pledge committment and effort, I cannot guarantee that I will meet Your Fag Hag's need to spontaneously break into song with a homosexual male. I wish you continued success in your new(er) endeavours.
Warmest regards,
Not-a-lovah
Me
Not-a-lovah, thank you for letting me know that you are there for what's her face. We finally spoke on the phone today after much phone tag playing. I am happy there is another gay in town to keep her somewhat satisfied.
Him
LOL
Me
how are you doing, by the by?
Him
things could certainly be worse. so i'll refrain from complaining. for now. it's just so tough, because complaining is how i do. it's how i roll.
Me
I'm quitting my job because it's turned me into a complainer. That's not what I want to be when I grow up.
Him
what job [was] that?
Me
back at the hard rock in Toronto.
It was always annoying when I worked here the first time, but things have gotten more complainy during the year and a half I was away.
Him
well, i'm not trying to gossip, but i've heard that the bussers have attitude and the salsa is made with PLUM tomatoes. PLUM. the audacity.
Me
You may have your hard rocks mixed up. We don't hire bussers at the TDot Hard Rock.
But I will confirm the salsa tid-bit.
Him
or you could ruin a poor attempt at humour. whichever you prefer.
Me
I like to keep things as uncomfortable as possible.
Him
HA. yeah. no one wants a cozy ass-groove when they can have a bed of nails.
Me
that's what I keep telling my co-workers, but they just keep on complaining.
Him
which brings the conversation full circle. and quickly. how impressive
Me
it was getting old
my eyes have been wandering
Him
*looks around; hums a britney spears megamix as a gesture of agreement*
Me
I went to a club last night where they mixed Amy Winehouse singing Rehab to the beat of Toxic. It was nice.
Him
and a social commentary.
Me
relevant.
Him
the only thing better than a remix is a remix with right-wing ideology embedded therein
Me
that's all I ask for from a dj. Give me something to dance to that will really make me think.
Him
that's why i like the pussycat dolls' "buttons". pro- or anti-seamstress? a conundrum for the ages.
Me
those felines sure do tackle the hard issues that everyone else is afraid to talk about.
Him
to think, it started with meow mix. try and argue against revolution now.
alright, i'm out. i'm going to heaven (club). because i'm worth it.
Me
I've always said that about you.
Him
awwwwwh
you said something nice. are you ill?
Me
no, no, I meant that I've always said that you're out.
Him
what a relief. i don't have the number for EMS in toronto
have a lovely evening, skinny-rabbit
Me
I wish you the same Mr. Not-a-lovah

Damn It, Janet (The Rocky Horror Show)

Why am I always plagued with life decisions? So far I think I've made all the right moves:

2000: The decision to drop out of university and tell my parents that I'm going to film school or never going to school again.
2001: The move to Vancouver for film school.
2002: The move to Toronto for theatre school.
2005: The decision to move to Ottawa to pay off my debt.
2006: Move back home.
2007: Debt paid off, move back to Toronto.

I've only been back here a couple of weeks and already I don't know what to do. I had my six month plan. Toronto for July-September. New York for October-December. But now I'm getting the feeling I should stay until Feburary and move to New York in March. But there are so many reasons why October-December would be a much more convenient time for me to be in NY. And if I stay in Toronto, do I get my own place like I've always wanted, or do I stay with my awesome roommates in this awesome apartment? I fucking hate my life.

Omigod You Guys (Legally Blonde)

I had an interesting night last night. I went to a 70s disco party and was all decked out in my vinatge grab, attracting a lot of attention because, let's face it, I was the best dressed male there and I know how to steal the scene at a party. But I wasn't expected the attention I got from one particular fellow. Let me remind you that I never pick up. Never! But I was looking particularly fabulous on this particular eve. So this dude starts telling me how awesome I look and how cool I am, yada yada yada, all the stuff I tell myself everyday. So then there's this point not too far from the end of the evening when I'm sitting by myself, taking a moment of rest, when he plops himself down on the seat next to mine. He tells me again how great my outfit is and asks me who I'm here with. I pull out my camera and show him pictures I'd taken early and say "Her. Her. Her. Her. Her." They're all hot. He's all, "Ooh, hot girls." I'm all, "I know, I know." Then he's like "You must be getting a lot of attention from the ladies here tonight." I go "Well, yeah, but I've actually had more of a response from the guys." I bring up that I'm not looking for female attention. I'm a homo. He tells me that he respects that, but he's straight. He then says his girlfriends always think he's gay. Then that he just broke up with his girlfriend two weeks ago. Conversation flows, and I know what he's getting to. He bring up points like he can find a man attractive but be sexually attracted to him. He can't see himself loving a man. He would only feel comfortable sleeping with a man if it's in a threesome situation with a girl as the third. He's into fashion. He may be metrosexual. It could be confusion. I tell him that I don't believe in denial and that at 28 he should know by know. Pretty much he was trying to get me to tell him that he's gay or that he should explore with me, maybe. It was a pretty fun conversation for me. He even pulled out his phone and asked for my number. Then the people he was staying with (he's from Kingston) were leaving and he said he'd stay. Then he suggested we dance. We got up and he put an arm around me. I danced with him a bit and then ditched him for my friends. I was there with them after all. He left without saying goodbye. Even when I pick up I don't pick up.

So then I get home and the toothpaste tube is missing. I find some mouthwash and use it. In the morning, still no toothpaste. I mouthwash, go to work and suck mints all day. Where is the toothpaste. I don't understand? Why is there never water in the Brita? I'm not mad. I'm just curious. Maybe I'm in denial.

Here's Where I Stand (Camp)

Ok, so I recently watched Love, Actually. Everyone who has seen it tells me they love it. I love multiprotagonist films and I like british films so I figured I would love it also. Turns out I wasn't impressed. I actually thought it was not a good movie. There were some great moments. I really liked the little boy. He's adorable, a sweet actor, and I like the twist that he was in love and that's why he was so downtrodden, not because his mother died. But what was with that scene at the airport? I'm sorry, but do all little tiny boys know their way through an airpor well enough that they can out-run security and not have to stop to check what gate this girl he was chasing after was departing from? How did he know where to run to? Please tell me. And then when he is taken back to Liam, the little chick comes out to kiss him on the cheek. I'm sorry, did her really say "Ok, black daughter, you can go all the way back to see thi kid. We'll just hold have them hold the plane. Did security say, "Sure, little black girl, go ahead and return from where you came. We won't find this suspicious or have to re-search you when you come back through. And Liam... oh, Liam. You were fine and all, but the Claudia Schiffer thing. It was cute up until the point where he meets her, only she has a different name. She's just the same person with the same voice but not a model.

Keira Nightley, why were you in this movie? You and your two men had no connections to the rest of the cast, except at the end when we find out that you just happen to be friend with Colin Firth. I'm sorry, what?! You had nothing to do with each other throughout the entire movie, he wasn't even at your wedding and all of sudden you, the black dude and the white dude, who are all sooo much younger than him, are his best friends? That's gay. Also gay is what the fuck was up with that storyline? I really liked the character of the dude in love with his best friends's wife, but it was said that he never spoke to her, so how did he end up falling so hard for her exactly? And how did the three of them end up staying friends? And how did he know that she would answer the door and not him?

Back to Colin. He and that maid. It was a cute storyline, but the whole he says something in english and she says practically the same thing in portuguese... that was retarded. So forced. So dumb. Just... dumb. But I really liked her sister. Like, I like-like her.

Laura Linney, you were great and I liked you story. But why did it die out? You didn't even get a moment at the end?

Hugh Grant... fine, I'll accept this one but it's still cliche.

I did love some shit. Like the scene where Laura Linney's in bed with that sexy fucker, but her brother keeps calling her, and the scene that follows it at the hospital. That was good shit. We needed more of that. Emma Thompson's character rocked the shit. I totally dug her story. But exactly what was her connection of Liam Neeson?

The stand-in couple were just darling.

Ugh, and the Colin Firth story had such promise! If only they hadn't fucked up with the cheesy dialogue.

UGH! And what the hell was up with that dude who goes to the States to get laid? What was with te stupid cameos and the absolutely ridiculous dialogue that turned the movie into American Pie 8? That really actually pissed me off.

I didn't who the fuck I was supposed to care about in this film. I didn't have time to invest in anyone. Except Emma. Just when I had bought into Laura, she disappeared. But everyone else... I wasn't sure who was likeable and who wasn't. I wasn't sure why I should like any of these people at all. I think it was a poorly made film. I'm not satisfied. That's just the way I feel. Don't hate.

If this movie taught me anything, it is that there are a lot of black people in London, but none of them are important.

I believe I am done speaking on this subject.

Simple Little Things (110 In The Shade)

I'm thinking of being nice to my parents now that I've left them. They're old and lonely. I'll let you know how that goes.

Take Back Your Mink (Guys and Dolls)

I went to my local strip club tonight. All the men were beefy. Made me feel like I won't do well. However, it was ladies night. I was prepared to see manly men. I'm not a manly man. I appeal to old lonely men, not rowdy women looking for a good time. I'll have to go back when there are no women present and see how different the atmosphere is.

The Burden Of Life (A Man Of No Importance)

It will be 12:30 in twenty minutes. I have to choose between going downstairs to check out the gym, watching The Young And The Restless, or doing my New York City Ballet workout video. I'm going to choose the soap opera. It's been good to me. Working out has not. It has only gotten me into debt.

The Truth (Brooklyn)

The truth is I like my roomies. I also let a man from my past put his mouth around my penis today. I didn't like having his in mine. There's a reason why I haven't hard oral sex since last September or October. I guess I've had my fix now and I'm good to go without for another few months, until I get to New York and can start seeing if there's anything between me and my Scooter. Either way, it was nice to lie naked with someone after we just came and talk about our careers. Plus I've been crazy horny since I got back in the city. I think I'll join ArtsMonkey in season five and send the men away now.

Have It Your Way (Assassins)

Fine, Warrior Princesse, you win. Here is a new blog. Update. I live with two fucking losers whom I hate. They're dirty and ugly and have no sense of humour. They also never talk about sex. Is that what you want to hear? LIES?! Is it?!

Because (The Thing About Men)

So many people have been posting all their pictures from Toronto Pride on Facebook. It looks like fun. I have never been to a Pride event. I've never felt the need to. I don't consider myself a self-loathing gay. I consider myself a regular person. I feel that - and this is not limited to us homos - as long as we continue to celebrate our differences, there will always be minorities. I don't need a week or a parade to be gay. I can be gay all year long and feel great about it. Gay, black, Jewish, what-have-you, we are never going to be one as long as we keep reminding the world that we are not.

I'm Still Here (Follies)

I'd like to apologize for not keeping up with my blogging, but I'm not really sorry. It hasn't actually been that long, and I'm moving in two weeks, am extremely busy with too many commitments, and don't even have time to say a proper goodbye to all my friends here. You get me soon. Just leave me alone for now, I'll blog again when I'm ready. In the meantime watch this video and enjoy.

She's No Longer A Gypsy (Applause)

Ottawa Citizen Review: Spirit of Orpheus

THEATRE REVIEW
Packing 100 years of music in one show
Orpheus society incorporates songs from 65-plus musicals
BY PATRICK LANGSTON

Not fussy on My Fair Lady? Well, The Music Man is tuning up right around the corner. You could live without the cornball Indian Love Call (from Rose Marie)? The snappy Telephone Hour from the teenage saga Bye Bye Birdie will supplant it before you can warble, “When I’m calling you, oo-oo-oo.”

In fact, with its cornucopia of selections from more than 65 past musicals and a clutch of original numbers and tunes from potential future shows, The Spirit of Orpheus — the jubilant song-and-dance celebration of Orpheus Musical Theatre Society’s first 100 years that opened Friday at Centrepointe Theatre — has something for everyone.

The Spirit of Orpheus was commissioned by the society, which prides itself on being “the oldest, continuous performing, amateur musical theatre group in North America.”

Society mainstays Michael Gareau and John McGovern created the work, Mark Ferguson orchestrated it, artistic director Len Boone keeps the show moving at a lickety-split pace, and conductor Marlene Hudson leads the nimble orchestra through the quick-change demands of accompanying the big, brassy Don’t Rain on My Parade from Funny Girl one minute and the wistful A Wand’ring Minstrel I from Gilbert & Sullivan’s The Mikado the next. Phew. Guiding the audience through this engaging dash are the Spirit (Orpheus veteran Sheila Shields) and Neo (the gifted Kara Prost, a relative newcomer).

Neo, in a storyline that’s more a series of hooks on which to hang the songs and dances than a real narrative, is an aspiring Orpheus member. Like us, she learns about the society’s musical energy and remarkable diversity by watching the show unfold. Eventually, she auditions for Orpheus and — it’s hardly giving away the plot — lands a role.

Over the course of the show, the Spirit recounts to Neo the society’s history from its glee club origins through its stints at the plush and now-vanished downtown Russell Theatre and a couple of high school auditoriums to its current incarnation as a mostly Broadway production society playing Centrepointe since 1995.

The narrative, expository and frequently stilted, is the least of The Spirit of Orpheus’ charms. That’s more than compensated for by vocalists like Eugene Oscapella performing The Music of the Night from Phantom of the Opera, Monique Cyr as the gospel belter on How Blest We Are from Big River and the hearty chorus on Brigadoon from the show of the same name.

The choreography by Val Keenleyside, Debbie Kaplan and Debbie Millett is strong, especially the showstopping Steam Heat (Skinny Rabbit shines here). David Magladry’s lighting design, smoothly mood-enhancing, also merits praise.

The Spirit of Orpheus is a toast to the past. Its exuberance says that Orpheus is itching to plunge into the future. The Spirit of Orpheus continues at Centrepointe Theatre until June 9. Tickets and times, 613-580-2700.

Oh, What A Beautiful Mornin' (Oklahoma)

I feel like my last few posts have been dowtrodden, so I'm going to pick things up a little. This is the first morning in over a month that I've had to sleep in. It's awesome. I'm still exhaustsed, but at least I know I was able to sleep in. It was opening night last night. The show went very well for me and the audience effing loved it. I must say I was totally on. Steam Heat got a wild reaction, which we were totally hoping for. I like getting opening night cards. It makes me feel nice when people say nice things to me. Like this one, for example, from someone I've never been in a show with before, but who has been in other shows with the same company: "I've seen you onstage before and you captured my attention. I can see now why everyone loves you - you're so talented: sing, dance and act and you're just a great guy." That's nice.

I'm also feeling very good because I told my bosses at work that I'm leaving them for Toronto. I was very scared to tell them that I'm ditching in the middle of the summer, which is their busiest time of year, but they were fully supportive. They knew it was coming and have been dreading the day. That feels good to know. I also love leaving when people least expect it. Like when I decided to leave Toronto. I definitely left to pay off my debt (only $1000 to go! I can DO this!), but in the back of my mind I was mostly excited to leave because of the shock value. I have the same feeling now, and I tell the friends I have made here "Oh, by the way, I'm moving back to Toronto next month." That's hot.

I Got A Little Time (Hello, Again)

But I don't. I have no time. I get up every morning at 6 to be at work for 7, and work until 4ish. Then I go to the theatre for 6:30 and get home at about 11:30. I sleep very little. However, my big worry is that my father is left all alone at home all day long with nothing to do. He's no longer working, he's no longer on speaking terms with his brother who lives next door (my father thinks everyone's out to get him so he picks fights if things don't go his way), my mother is in the middle of her three week vacation to Mexico that he refused to go on with her for absolutely no good reason, my brother is on a business trip for a week and my brother's fiancee is no longer his fiancee. Add to that the fact that he has a serious doctor's appointment tomorrow at one and I can't be there to go with him because I have to work. I came home tonight at 11:30, my father already asleep. I've been sitting at the computer, and I've been hearing weird noises that were probably coming from the back door with light meowing. I turned on the backyard light but there was nothing there. I later heard it again and check to see if the cat had maybe locked himself in the bathroom. He didn't. I checked the backyard once again and there was poor little George, sitting on the back porch, frightened. He's not an outdoor cat. He doesn't have claws. He's fat and lazy. If Klaus were out there he would have killed him. I don't know if I love my father, but I'm definitely worried about him.

A Certain Girl (The Happy Time)

I didn't know her very well. I definitely didn't like her. She was like that girl at our school who lied all the time and lived with ArtsMonkey. I didn't think she was a good person. I didn't understand her. I didn't want to. I gossiped about her. I made fun of her. Someone once tried to defend her to me saying that if I knew why she was like that I would not talk about her that way. I just don't like people I can't trust. I found out tonight that she commited suicide this morning. I don't know how to feel about that. No one I've actually known, other than my grandparents, has passed away, thank God. I didn't see this coming but I knew she was a troubled girl and I can't say that I'm surprised. It's terrible that she succeeded in her attempt to take her own life. Someone said it was a very selfish thing to do. It is. Her passing leaves so many unanswered questions and so many grief-stricken people. Our show opens next week. I know she's going to be on everyone's minds. That's probably what she wanted. I guess I'm a terrible person for thinking ill of her even when she's gone. I'm just not sure what I should be feeling right now. I barely knew her. It's probably awful that I chose a song from the musical The Happy Time to title this blog. I didn't do it on purpose. This is not a happy time. I had a suicidal phase in grade nine, as I'm sure most people do at some point in their lives. I never made any attempts, I just contemplated it for some time. I was just seeking attention. I never would have had the guts to go through with it. I'm glad I never did. I love my life.

We Can Talk To Each Other (Starting Here, Starting Now)

Conversations with a stripper.

Chanel sits down next to me and puts her hand on my leg. I know what she wants. She has no idea what I want. She's french. Her accent is thick. Me no likey. "Mans tinks about sex every eleven seconds. I'm really smart, eh?" No. "What are you thinking about now?" she asks. I don't remember my answer but I'm sure it was vague. "You're looking at her breasts, aren't you?" "Um, yeah." I lie. She had no idea I was more interested in studying the strippers moves than her curves.

I was doing research to see if stripping was actually something I could do. The first and last time I went to a strip club I had to leave because I could not stop laughing. I kept thinking about the girls falling in those ridiculously high shoes. And the one who wrapped her legs behind her head and bounced her ass in the air became my object of ridicule for quite some time.

Chanel flat out says "You're not going to buy a dance are you?" I say no, she gets up and moves on to the next guy.

I'm there with a friend of mine. It's his birthday. He's always been a socially awkward human being. A nerd if you will. He's in my family and I've known him since I was born. We grew up across the street from each other and my mother is his Godmother. I may be his only friend. We go out to dinner every week. Since I left Ottawa the first time he's been forced to make a life for himself without me. He joined a bible study group and became a regular at the local strip clubs. Fitting. My reasons for taking him there are two fold. The first is to do something he'd like for his birthday, and essentially get a glimpse into his world when I'm not around. The second is for research.

He tells me about Georgia, a stripper he calls his friend. She comes over and sits next to him and gives him a hug. He introduces us. She's sweet. She's more friendly to him than anyone has ever been. He has his arm around her and gives her a kiss on the cheek. I have never seen him like this. She asks him if he wants to go into the VIP lounge and he says maybe later. She leaves.

Tia asks if she can sit with us. She's cute. She's kind of fun to talk to. She seems real. I like that. We reject her dance and she takes it well. Good girl.

I wonder where these chicks get their crazy outfits.

Georgia finally comes back and takes him to the back room. I sit there by myself. Vulnerable. Watching the dancers. Studying their moves. There is less dancing than I would have expected. The strippers we see in movies always defend themselves by calling themselves dancers. I expected this was because they actually did some dancing. The ones I saw just stood there and swayed around and tried to be sexy. I don't know. I wasn't really impressed. When I strip, I intend to put on a show. That's just me.

Maude comes over. I think that's how you spell it. She pronounces it Mode. She's nice enough. She talks about how it's a slow night. (It's Tuesday). I reject her.

Bianca. I like Bianca. She's super bubbly. We get along fine. She says weeknights are generally busier than weekends. The reason for this is because there are many hotels on that street and all the business men in town on conferences usually arrive on Tuesday and have nothing to do so they go to the strip joint. She asks if she can liven up my night for me. I laugh and say no.

A quiet talker, whom my friend had warned me about, comes up to me, doesn't sit down, asks straight out if I want a dance. I say no, she leaves.

I saw August dance when I first came in. She sits next to me and points out that she saw me sitting there and that I had a friend with me. "He's in the back with Georgia." "Oh that's good." We talked about the girl on stage. She likes her boots but couldn't dance on them. She has to wear super tall heals so that she can reach the ceiling so that she has something to hold to otherwise she'd fall. I think back to my fantasy of the falling strippers many years ago. August thinks the girl on stage might be new because she's never seen her there before. August has been working there for three years. Maybe she doesn't recognize the new girl because August is used to working days. She says she still makes her money because the club is right in the heart of the business center where all the government buildings are. She gets the lunch crowd. That's cool. I reject her, but I feel bad about it. Weird how I almost felt like taking her (as well as Bianca and Tia) to the the back just so I could keep talking to her.

My friend comes back and is paying Georgia. He paid sixty dollars for three songs. He and Georgia talked about me. They talked about how she's a single mother who lives with her parents. Like me, she moved back home to get back on her feet.

It was really freaky seeing my awkward friend be so confidant at this joint. He was so sure of himself and dealt with the girls as if he were some stud. He's not like that at all in the real world.

I realized that a big part of these girls' job is to make men comfortable. You can try and be flirty and fake like Chanel but that won't get the men to buy a dance from you. Maybe it works for some guys but not for me. You can be direct like the quiet talker, but that approach is cold. It's the girls like Georgia, August, Bianca and Tia that I'm sure make the most money. My friend goes to Georgia because she talks to him, she listens to him. Something no one else in his life does. Those girls act genuinely interested in their patrons. They're approachable and personable. It was interesting to see all these different tactics and the reactions they got.

I walked out of that club believing that I could do this. If it's possible to weed out the weirdos, it could even be a good time, and I very well could learn something. If anything, it's a great social study. Their role is almost more of therapist than dancer or temptress. It's something I think I might like to explore.

The Word Of Your Body (Spring Awakening)

I've been pretty disappointed with the state of my body these days. I was videotaping myself masturbating this morning (yes, I do that, I'm THAT vain!) and was not too happy with what I saw played back on the screen. I'm so loose. I mean, I'm still a skinny little rabbit, but like, I'm loose. I should have a tight skinny body. Watching myself dance in the mirrors in the rehearsal hall, I see long, gangly arms, round shoulders, a belly and no pecs. I want baby muscles on my arms and baby pecs and a flat stomach. I don't want to look perfect, I just want too look good naked. I desperately want to join a gym, but I seriously am not going to do myself any good without a trainer. Does Princesse Alathariel's gay crush still work at Goodlife? I want him to do to me what he did to himself. Girlfriend's looking good. I want to look good. Naked.

Think Big (jon & jen)

A friend of mine was telling me I should apply to work in some sexy position for Club Monaco in New York, and could get a Visa that way. I looked into it and then looked into other jobs and realized that I lack experience and a degree. Then I started to get depressed and freaked out that I need to go back to school for four years and not be able to be successful until my mid thirties. Then I realized, fuck, I'm an actor. Why do I want a real job? I'm a fucking actor.

Let It Go (The Full Monty)

Would you judge me if I take up stripping when I move to Toronto this summer? I really need the money and think I could have a lot of fun dancing on the stage. As for the private dances, I'm not un-turned on by the idea. I wonder if I'd get myself into any trouble. You're judging me, aren't you?

Bright Lights, Big City (Bright Lights, Big City)

Ok, so I had a fucking blast in New York last week. Here are some highlights.

Day 1 - Back In The City (Bright Lights, Big City)

I arrive and take a cab to DansyAnsyPansy's workplace. We walk up Tribeca to SoHo where we stop at a cute little place to eat and admire all the fucking hot people in this town. Damn. We go see Spring Awakening. I like it. It wasn't the phenomenal show I've heard so much about. The acting was week. The voices were amazing. I enjoyed the staging, but Pants didn't and I understand her points. The fat girl with glasses sitting on stage trying to ignore the performers around her gave us a good laugh. I was disappointed to find out they reduced all the gay sex to one comedic kissing scene. But I found the music neat. It has Randolph written all over it. The "lyrical" choreography was ridiculous and unnecessary. The soundtrack is addictive.

Day 2 - Stay In My Life (Bright Lights, Big City)

Went on a date to see Company. They auctioned off the kazoo that the love of my life, Raul Esparza, played on stage during Side By Side By Side for Equity Fights AIDS. I won the bidding and was brought backstage where I entered an office and found the adorable Raul sitting behind a desk in his little Bobby suit. He shook my hand and I believe the first thing I said was "I'm in love with you." The kazoo was signed and in a ziplock bag, and he signed my program and I made him hug me and pose for a picture. He's so lovely and I'm going to marry him one day. Other things I did that day were go see The View where The Pirate Queen performed and the entire audience got free tickets except for me because I was VIP. Isn't that backwards? I also went on a date with a neurotic and unattractive Jew with a Brooklyn accent who called me hot when I said "Eh." Nothing happened, except that he gave me some NYC condoms.

Day 3 - Wednesday (Bright Lights, Big City)

Curtains was the tightest show I saw. So happy to see Kander and Ebb finally have a hit musical again. Especially since it's their last. It was funny, entertaining from start to finish, strong performances, just good fun. Then I went to see Angela Lansbury and Marian Seldes in Deuce. I was going to see Audra McDonald in 110 In The Shade, but figured two old legends are better than one young one, so I chose that. The play wasn't great, but they totally stuttered through the show as they tried to keep track of their lines. That was fun to watch. I love live theatre. I did not love their costar. He sucked. I believe he is a graduate of the Lindsay Kramer School of Acting. Three seats over from me was a total cutie I made eye contact and smiles with. I wanted to ask him out after the show but I had to poo. It's the biggest regret of my life.

Day 4 - Heart and Soul (Bright Lights, Big City)

Went to see Regis and Kelly and damn that chick is hilarious! Neenia and that other girl arrived and we were fabulous on the west side, recreating Carrie and Berger's first date. Went to see A Chorus Line and were all very disappointed. Neenia wondered aloud why there were no BGs in that production. I wondered the same thing. We then headed to the free Rufus concert that Bedroom Prince has told us about, and I met up with my next date there. Everything was very confusing at the club. And then slightly boring. We left before Rufus arrived. My date took me to his neighbourhood (Chelsea) and to a dinner that he often frequents. He warned me as we entered that he's there so much they know his name. It was super cute. They came over to comment on how his menu was open for the first time in forever. I loved seeing how he had found a little bit of comfort in the big city. We talked about a wide variety of topics and the conversation was never uneasy or awkward. He was super sweet. He told me his coming out story. His father was the first one to approach him about it when he was 23 and told him that he fully supports him no matter what. I couldn't help myself, my eyes started to tear up. The way he told me that, with such love for his family, ugh! I love his family and I don't even know them. Maybe it's because he's a therapist, but I felt like I could tell him anything. He then walked me to the subway and I hugged him goodbye. No moves. He has a weird tooth thing. I like slight flaws in teeth, so I like the big gap between his two front teeth, but there was something funky happening with one tooth in particular, but I couldn't stare long enough to find out.

Day 5 - Are You Still Holding My Hand? (Bright Lights, Big City)

Went to Greenwhich Village and SoHo with Neenia and that other girl, and then saw Spelling Bee, which was good, but not absolutely fabulous, like I was expecting. The I Will Be Loved Tonight girl from I Love You, You're Perfect, Now Change girl was playing Rona so that was neat. She was really good.

Day 6 - Perfect Feeling (Bright Lights, Big City)

Went to Central Park with Neenia and that other girl. It was the most beautiful day in the world. In the world. Most beautiful. A dancing french baby who fell on her face made it even more perfect. Then I went to see my girl Fantastia in The Colour Purple (I refuse to type Color), and holy fuck was that an amazing end to my trip. The entire audience was black. Mostly women. It was fucking incredible the way this audience responded to the show. They were hooting and hollering, and in a good way. Not heckling. Just fucking having a fabulous time and not afraid to hide it. Fantasia kicked ass and during her big solo at the end, from the beginning of the number they were verbally supporting her and sitting forward in their seats, just offering the kind of energy most actors dream an audience would give. It was a fantastic feeling. They were giving their homegirl love and she was giving it right back. By the end they were up out of their seats. It was nutty, I tell you. I came home and told everyone in my show that we need to fill our audience with black people and recast with black people and we'll have a great show no matter what.

Albert misses Wanda.