So yesterday was Tarantella day!

Kelly has to dance the damn Tarantella in Doll's House and I have been trying to find a video to teach her for ages, but everything that I found online was either $95 or four to six weeks delivery, so finally I thought of checking with the library. Well, in the entire New York Public Library system, there is exactly one Tarantella video, and it was at Lincoln Centre.

Now, the real problem was my library card situation. I couldn't use my old card, because there are fines on it that I can't afford to pay, so I just decided to sign up for a new card. The old card was on my old address, and I figured that I could get away with it. And I did! I filled out the form and she looked up my name in the computer and asked me if I'd ever lived on Carroll St. and I said no and all was well.

Am I ashamed? Not really. The ends justified the means, as far as I was concerned.

So I got the video, but I also got something else, a choreographer! Bobbi used to be with the company and I called her and asked if she knew someone who could teach the Tarantella and if so, how much they would charge, and she offered to do it for free, which I thought was very sweet of her!

So if the video is no good or too hard, we have a real person to do the dance and all is well. I hope I get that tambourine soon.

Also yesterday was Therapy Day!

Something like two weeks ago or so it suddenly occurred to me that I wanted to be in therapy. Hell, my insurance covers it, why shouldn't I? Besides the fact that I think my friends are getting very tired of my continual jabbering about my various crises and it might be good to have a professional to speak to about all of this.

So I started trying to find someone who took my insurance, which was easier said than done, because what I wanted was a referral as well, so I asked Tracing to ask her therapist for a referral, and she gave me a couple but they didn't take said insurance. So I sent out a distress call to my notify list, and got an answer from a reader, recommending her therapist.

I called her the day after Omar destroyed my life, and she called me back right away. She didn't take my insurance, but she said that she saw people on reduced fees, because she knew how artists were, "How did you know I was an artist?" "O, I thought you had seen one of my cards, I specialize in performing artists!" So she agreed to see me for an initial appointment for the price of my co-pay, and yesterday I saw her for the first time.

I had been to a therapist once before in my life, when I was around nineteen and the Health Centre at NYU had free therapy, so I went and she said, "So, why are you here?" and I answered, "You mean I have to tell you straight out, just like that?" and never went back.

This time I went in and she started asking me questions about my life and my background and I gave the twenty minute version of my life, and only after that did she ask, "And why are you here?" and I was ready to tell her. I gave the half hour version of Omar's life, and then it was over. I'm going to see her again next week.

I'm an official New Yorker, I'm in therapy!

Afterwards, I was walking down the street and it was so beautiful, and I stopped at l'Occitane and got a bee-shaped bar of honey soap and a honey face masque, then went to McDonald's and had my first meal in days. I felt sick as hell afterwards, but at least I'm eating. I'm still smoking, but at least I'm eating.

Then it was opening night of the new show, so I didn't have rehearsal. It was one of Tony's shows, and he always has all these problems and disasters--the shows are usually good, but with a massive amount of turmoil surrounding it.

This time it was nobody to run the lights except for people in the show, and because of the way that it was done, there was nobody at all to do the final blackout and the curtain call for the third one-act, so they got me to come in out of the box-office and do it. Honestly, this only happens to Tony.

Afterwards, I went out with the cast since Moira and a few other friends were in the audience, and ended up in a very flirtatious situation with a cute 25-year-old in the cast. He and I had met on several other occasions, and had always gravitated towards each other, but last night, since I now am smoking, we spent more time together because we kept going out to have a smoke.

It was interesting. He is very cute, very twenty-five, and seems to like me. What's up with that? Do I have the energy for this? Ah well, it's just flirting, it might just take my mind off of the fact that my life is in shreds.

Today's horoscope:
Since you've started taking a step back, you can see a better way. Creative types are blessed with a day of utter clarity. Artisans feel the power of their muse through the work of their hands.

One year ago today:
Cause he's a hunka hunka burnin' ginger-haired love. Ginger-skinned soon, likely, what with all the outdoor shooting in Miami.

* Yesterday / Index / This Month / Tomorrow *

* E-Mail / In the Belly of the Hedgehog / My Big Fat Ass *

Graphics by the shadowy Saundra!

This page was written by hand. My hand. Only pussies use HTML editors.
Last Updated Wed 15 October 22:00:09 2003