Trance?

Apparently I spent large chunks of senior year in a coma, or drunk, or living as someone else...I don't know. I am sifting through all these files I have in a folder marked "Henry and Clara," and trying to see if there's anything worth recycling as I crack WTTAN (that's "We Things That Are Now") open again in earnest....and most of them are so unfamiliar to me that it is surreal. Not only do I have no recollection of ever seeing them before, but I literally cannot conceive of having written them.

The weirdest thing, though, is some sort of poem that is stuck in between two rough scenes in a file called "to send ben." (As if the title doesn't reveal how old it is, the date says 7/2006. Wowza.) I have NO idea where it came from. I know I didn't write it. But I just have no idea where it came from. I assume the inclusion of the name 'Henry' in it was one of the reasons I noticed it; a Google search is fruitless. I have absolutely no idea. I suppose there's a chance it could be from the novel "Henry and Clara," but I don't think so. I read it over and over and am totally, completely puzzled and weirded out. The line about the rat is something I could have written, because that happened to me once. And the line about the three-legged dog is feeling really familiar. I don't fucking know! It's making me feel really insane.

Anyway, here it is. You don't know what it is, do you?

We went to the Albany Fair

And we went into the Tent of Wonder and Horror

Saw the horse-hair bearded lady and the Tartar with his head drilled full of holes

A three-legged dog; he mostly lay in the corner

A rat the size of a pig- I think it was not actually a rat

A sword-swallower covered in tattoos

But at the end, a pair of girls

Who looked to be embracing

Arms around each other tightly, so tightly, that one couldn’t turn her head to look out of the window she sat behind

Stitched together, flesh sewn to flesh, like a cruel joke made real by the punishing hand of an unkind God

My heart broke for them

To never be apart from another

But as I looked I thought

Might I like to be so with my Henry?

If I had to be so

It would be him I would choose to be knit up with

To never part, never look away

I realized I was wrong

I looked at the girls and could see only the love that they shared

That was keeping them together

Without their love, they could walk away from each other in an instant

Superstitions galore.

So, I'm actually finding myself feeling very sad about Heath Ledger. The more I think about it, the sadder I get. I keep thinking about Ms. Lohmann and how she used to talk about shutting herself in a room for a week after James Dean died and how heartbroken she was. I called my mom and she hadn't heard yet and she said 'That's so sad. He was so lovely.' Sometimes I think about how much of a mess I could legitimately be when a certain of my favorite actors dies. I don't even want to say his name! Lord knows I'm a very superstitious person, and also a very dramatic and emotional person...so it's a recipe for disaster. I guess the hope is that his death will not be untimely-- if any death can be called 'untimely' (because who knows?)--or shocking or terrible in any way. And Rinnz and I were just watching Brokeback last week! This combined with the fact that we saw Paul Rudd on the street yesterday just as H.L.'s body was being found makes us believe that we are somehow responsible for his death. Of course we aren't. Neither of us are quite sure why or how we think Paul Rudd is linked to this in any way....but we're sure it is. (We know it isn't.)

We bought dishes at Fishs Eddy yesterday. Are we getting old? Buying dishes? Don't most twentysomethings buy shoes? Or something?

Work was quiet as a lightbulb (credit that bon mot to Dan Iskhakov circa 2003 German class) last night. No show, nothing to do. I sold about four tickets in five hours. Two friends came to visit, both lovely surprises. When it was through I went to Queens (which took the better part of an hour, thank you MTA) to watch Law and Order with Erin and Jimmy and Rory Calhoun while eating Krasdale ice cream sandwiches. They were like manna from heaven.

There's a chance that some form of The Civil Wargasm, one of my old class plays, could be performed next month. So I've hauled its dusty carcass out and have been looking at it. It's a woolly mammoth. It's some species that's been dead for millions of years. It's ancient and doddering and I have to get some purchase on it so I can hope to shape it up in some, ANY way. (Why is it that I WANT to do this with my life, again? What? Acting? Theatre? What?)

Sigh.

The Big Shakeup

Exciting news today-- new candy at work! 100 Grand, Oh Henry!, Raisinets, Goobers.....lots more to stuff my gaping maw with. Will the joy never end?

I am in a state of agitated confusion. I have the opportunity to stage manage a group of four shows that run for a weekend in November. Other things I have to do in November are: see Tasia's show in Boston, and hopefully go to the Berkshire foothills all-day singing. I also have to make a living. This is the hardest part.

If I decide to work on the shows, my schedule will get very very very tight and I'll probably have to race around like a lunatic for two and a half weeks. I'll probably be cranky and tired all the time. But I will also probably meet some awesome people (they already seem super cool) that could be possible collaborators. And don't I always try to believe that if I wait until I'm ready, I'll never do anything?

I guess the solution is maybe to cut down a little on everything. Like, I could maybe not go away to sing....even though I really want to. I NEED to see Tasia's show-- it isn't an option. I would feel so bad if I didn't, AND I really want to.


I don't know. No matter what I do, I'm not going to get to do all the things I want to do, AND I'm not going to make as much money as I want to make. So if I accept that now, shouldn't it be okay?

To close....dictionary.com's word of the day is awesome today:

ensorcell \en-SOR-suhl\, transitive verb: To enchant; to bewitch.