Alright, Lucy was complaining, so I changed the link colour. It's almost the end of the month and now she starts complaining? I guess we know who hasn't been reading my journal for several weeks, don't we?

Anyway, after yesterday's whine-fest, I do feel much better.

I am too eternally an optimist to ever give up hope of finding someone to take care of and to take care of me. Someone to trade off on who gets to be the weak one and who gets to be the strong one at any given moment. A partner. Someone whom I don't feel that I have to spend every waking moment with, but who I want to spend if not every waking moment with, but plenty of them. Waking moments, that is. Someone to have private jokes with, someone that I can tell the things that I don't say here.

I am content alone, even happy, but not enough, therefor I can never give up, because if I do then I will die. And I'm not quite ready for that yet. Neither am I ready to spend the next fifty years alone, but it's better than the former.

So, the show!

It opened Friday night, and went pretty well. We got no fucking laughs, practically, well, a few, but when I get a few all I remember are the silences (but last night when I really got no laughs, every single one that I got on Friday was etched into my brain). I couldn't figure out why there were so few until afterwards when I saw that Jed was at the show. Jed was there, and Jed, as I have said before, is the Audience Killer, he makes people not laugh with the sheer power of his aura, so that even though we had good laughers in the house, like Tracy, her power was nothing in the face of the Audience Killer. Fear him!

That was the first time that I had seen Tracy and Thomas since the wedding, which was on 9/15, not only a few days after the Twin Towers, but a week after a family tragedy. "I'll bet that everyone was really ready for the wedding!" I said, and they fervently agreed.

And I only complained slightly about not being hired to shoot their wedding, and promised to stop by their fifth anniversary.

And who else was in the audience but Michael!

I knew he was in town, and we had vague plans to get together on Sunday, but I didn't expect him at my opening night. We went out for a drink, but nobody was at the bar. Actually, about a million people were at the bar, but none of them were my friends, and as I can't stand it when the crowd is made up of my friends, a crowd of strangers was unacceptable.

Apparently, all of my friends have gone somewhere new without telling me where it is! Cynthia, when I said that to her said that I would know were I not so anti-social, and she's probably right. But that doesn't mean that I won't complain about it!

We tried McHale's, which was also too crowded, so we went to Ben and Jerry's and got milkshakes, very Andy Hardy. I had a black and white shake that, after I thought it was too chocolaty for the first sip, ended up being really good.

We told each other about our greatest childhood traumas, wait, make that physical traumas, because I have emotional traumas that are worse. My greatest childhood physical trauma was when I got my face ripped up by a dog, a story that I am certain that I have told here, and Michael's trauma is Michael's story, but I must say that his beats mine all hollow, except for the fact that I was old enough when mine happened to remember the moment, though not the pain, because you can't remember pain. You can remember the fact of pain, but not the actual feeling.

I think what I learned when I was attacked was that I am very soft and can be broken more easily than I think. Skin tears.

We ended up having to be flung bodily out the door onto 8th Ave., and then we walked to the van, stopping off at Duane Read, where I got Pepsi and Michael didn't get Band-Aids. Because he's living on the edge!

I asked many remarkably pushy and rude questions about his personal life that he answered with as short syllables as possible. I wasn't bothered by his refusing to vomit up his whole life for me, but neither did I stop asking questions.

Sometimes, even when I know I'm being impossibly rude, my curiosity gets the better of me. But I don't think he got too upset about it, he just exercised his right to keep his private life private.

And then yesterday...but that is such a long story that I think I will leave it until the next entry. Something to look forward to, ain't?

Today's horoscope:
Take a look at the reading and writing skills of a young family member or friend--not from a critical perspective, but to enhance present abilities.

One year ago today:
It has taught me many life lessons. Like if you throw yourself onto the train tracks, you'll get Bill Pullman.

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Last Updated Fri 26 October 18:47:09 2001