…A waiter ranting; winding down…

…A waiter ranting; winding down…

As I sit here with my Vape in hand, at two in the morning, trying to unwind from my Sunday night at work, I suddenly start laughing at myself.

What a site I must be.  Its Sunday for Chrissakes!  The day of rest and here I am, at 2am, sitting on my couch, still brain-fried from my absurd shift at work.  Oh, the life of a server…actor…singer…dancer….whatever the fuck I am in these five minutes…

Tonight has been one of those nights where I just want to scream, punch a face, hit an old jewish woman in the ear, throw a kitten at a pelicans open mouth, or just slam someone hot up against a wall and destroy them with kisses… sound like a totally fucking multi personality night?  Sure was!

I get to my fine place of business at 3:30 sharp (3:38 server time), and begin my opening sidework only to be THROWN upstairs into the cafe with no break, and no food.  (By the time I got downstairs to the kitchen for family meal, all the remained were scraps of romaine lettuce tossed in a few kernels of corn, and a pinto bean… calorie dinner…)  So needless to say, my Black Swan diet is going over really well today.

Now, although the sun is out and the cafe is lovely… the management neglected to take into account that it was 45 degrees outside and getting colder by the minute.  The wind was beginning to pick up and thusly rendered the heat lamps obsolete, which meant that every fucking table in the universe that is cafe decided to bitch about being cold.  ”Oh…I’m sorry maam… I must have missed the part where you demanded to eat out here and hiked your 105 lb skinny ass and 150 lb Prada bag out to my table, only to bitch about how fucking cold your two pounds of flabby arm skin is….allow me to transfer you inside to another server.  Enjoy your fucking margarita. (Because lord knows I didn’t really make it skinny…drink up fatty).”  SO… after 45 glorious minutes of Cafe love, I got transferred inside and downstairs, where I stood with my thumb up my butt for another hour before my tables were sat.

Tips were nice this evening.  I even had two european tables who tipped me over 20%!!!  NOTE TO ALL EUROPEAN, EASTERN INDIAN, and EURO-ITALIANS:::  When dining in the U S of A, it is customary to leave an 18% tip (before taxes) for service that you feel is satisfactory.  For SHITTY service… and by that, I mean the service… the person running his ass all over hell and back for your sides of EVERYTHING, your drinks ONE AT A TIME at a table of 8 after he has asked you REPEATEDLY if anyone needs any fucking thing else, and the one who you treat like your personal slave… you tip 10%… for PHENOMINAL service, it is customary in the USA (as we make BELOW THE MINIMUM WAGE AS SERVERS) to tip 20% and above, or to tip OVER and ABOVE the added gratuity for those of you dining in parties of 8 or more.  As for my amazing african american loves… REALLY!?  You are THAT tight with me outside of work and then you come to my place of making MONEY and ask me to to GOD KNOWS WHAT for your asses and then tip me UNDER 15%?  And you ALL KNOW you come in HUGE GROUPS, or on Dates to impress your lady… so you KNOW your checks are HUGE… lemme tell you how much lovin I have for my brothers and sisters for leaving me 20.00 on a 350.00 check… die in a fire… thats now much… REMEMBER people… service personnel Handle.Your.Food….remember that when you tip next time… because they also REMEMBER who you are… and pass that info on to other servers when you dine with us next time… so when you wonder why your drinks take 45 minutes next time you eat out… think about that shit ass ugly tip you left to compensate for the HUGE meal you couldn’t afford to pay for for you and your lil girlfriend… oh, I said it.

Love you all… pass this on if you get me

Bump in the Night : A Halloween Collection Of Short Stories

 

I.  The Stalker

In the darkness it had been forseen.  In the many nights that proceeded, a dark figure had followed her every nocturnal move, and at long last, it was finally time…  In the park, he took her, fed lustily and quickly, and in a startled panic, left her on a pathway in the park to become…something more.  Something he could keep beautiful forever, and someone who could seek justice from those responsible for the miserable state he had discovered her in…this angelic creature he was now fleeing…

…and it was done…

She gasped.

Her eyes flittered open and her body gave a jolt. She could see were the waves of flawless hair cascading in perfect detail over her face and onto the pavement. She became aware that she was sprawled on the ground.

The chill of the pavement and crisp autumn night air on her newly alabastor skin now fascinated her more than caused her pain.

It wasn’t until she effortlessly rose to a standing positin that she realized it had also been drizzling rain over her body, and for how long she did not know.  The gleam of her jet-black, waist-length hair was dimmed only by the emblazant emerald gleam of her eyes that shone underneath it.  What had hours before been a frail creature who begged the world for strength was now a herald of strength and evolved above all who had ever caused her pain.

Her mind jerked from its euphoria…sharp emotion stabbed her and she focused on one thought.

Those who caused her pain…

She looked up at the glowing orange clouds. Crisp wind caressed her face.  The rain was now beginning to turn to sleet with the growing chill in the air, and the clouds’ orange hue was outlined in grey and black that she knew threatened early autumn snow. The chill amused her again, and was quickly influencing darker thoughts in her newly forming mind…those who caused her pain…ONE  who caused her pain….  She could smell the clouds… there would be snow before she could draw another breath.

Before she could hesitate or think otherwise, her body had willed itself up and was now propelling itself forever more upward and outward.  Faster and faster and farther and farther from the earth below.  The sting of the sleet prickled her alabastor skin and the swirl of the misty clouds’ vapor entangled her silky skirt and blouse.  Without so much as a word, her conscious mind had now told her newly conscious-unconscious mind where to go.  She was headed south and west…the cities jutted out of the blackness and clouds in what seemed ten times the speed of a plane to her.  She had dried minutes after leaving the city and the clouds and was now simply in extacy over her new abilities. She bounded on southward toward Phoenix… toward the pain in her heart…toward the bane of her existance and blackness that had enveloped her soul since she was a child… and she could now deal with it under her own terms…and no one would ever suspect… she was on the way to confront Her once and for all.

As she flew on, a smile curled on the sides of her lips, and as they parted, the moonlight flashed a quick silver gleam across a single pair of tiny fangs…

II. The Hunted

She never saw it coming… he appeared out of thin air behind her and took her before she could so much as breathe a protesting gasp.   Over.  Done.

The silence of the newly snow-blanketed park had barely been disturbed, and only one set of footprints appeared in the white canvas…hers.  No marks dawned her now paling and bluing flesh, and no struggle was remotely suggested.  Just…silence, and the peaceful snowfall with the orange background of the cloud filled winter’s night sky.

His body hovered lightly and eerily over the snow and slowly, his feet traversed the length of her outstretched shell.  His head cocked slightly to the left as he peered at his victim.  A smirk of satisfaction occupied the corner of his mouth, as well as a set of tiny, well concealed canine teeth that dartet in little flashes from the line of his lips as his dead body needlessly drew in and exhaled breath.  A motor function nescessary to him only for speaking.

Many years had passed since he had last felt the company of another. Since he could remember, he had always been a rogue.  A vagabond moving through the shifts of time; a wallflower to its woes… a silent stalker, a blood hunter, and a predator now only for his own gratification.

He needed no nourishment any longer.  The living cells of the skin sacks he only looked on now as food were of no use to him, but like a recovering addict with a needle waving in their face, at times the insatiable desire overtook the composed will of a 2,500 year old being… this is how he ended up here this night…hovering…still staring at the blank glazed-over crystaline eyes of her corpse. She stared back blankly.  He thought she looked like nothing more than a frozen doll.  Her flesh no more to him than the plastic of a department store confection.  Another lifeless doll, a body freezing in the cold night.  But no evidence remained.

There was a flash of light that encompassed the edges of her body and then slowly glowed all over her like the ripples of reflected water on a ceiling…only this was no water.  It was fire!  And it only burned her flesh.  In seconds it was over and now all that remained of the crime was a slight imprint of her body in the snow, and the trickle of blood where her neck had lain.

He flicked his eyes and in a flash there was a gust of loose snow flurrying its way over to the site of the body; covering all remaining evidance in its daimond blanket…

III.  The Sandman Returns

The black of night enveloped and cloaked his already well-hidden form even more. As he glided forward through the wood, his feet inches off the frozen ground, the feint glow of a small light appeared to him through the clearing in the trees ahead. The small orb gave off an unnaturally blue pulse and seemed to grow stronger as he neared.
A grin began to part at the edges of his thin, dark lips.

When he was just ten feet away from it, the pulsing blue orb burst into dazzling pink flame. The man ceased his forward approach and his figure hovered in place; his cloak billowing around him as if it were comprised of the chilling wind itself that bustled around him.

“What do you seek?” The voice came on the breath of the wind and encircled his person with its haunting echo. It was emanating from the orb, but did not seem to be coming from it directly.

“That which was taken from me,” he breathed back into the wind. “And nothing more. It is my power that I seek.” The pulsing flames gently gleaned their reflection off of the black orbs that sat where his eyes should have been. The universes inside the orbs returned their own glean of light to the pulsing orb. The light of a million stars shone all at once from him suddenly and then retreated again in a pulse that matched the orb’s for a few silent moments that could have been mistaken for eternity were it not for the blustering wind that had kicked up the powdered snow from underneath him.

The snow and all around suddenly fell silent and all that moved was the orb. Slowly, it floated towards him as it spoke and began to pulse larger and fuller.
“The dreamer has returned. The once and rightful king has come to Sleep Itself to reclaim His terrible power. It is his and his alone. Take me into you and receive your Rite.”

The sound of his breath broke the stillness as he uttered the simply words, ‘encanto domini.’
The flame pulsed white hot and flared white flames that stretched out towards him like tentacles in the darkness. Then the light zoomed at him in a flash and then it was done… the trails of fire-like energy slithered inside his chest and then all was once again dark. All but him. His black stature now had a sliver-thin shining lining all around him.
He looked up and muttered ‘noire cloche nialo’, and the dark of night seemed to enshround him in a new cloak… and the lining was gone…covered.

His eyes, which had been closed now opened. They glistened, and now the blackness was now replaced by the intermittent pulsing of the blue orb light inside of them.
He exhaled.
His journey was complete.
The Sandman had returned….

 

IV.  Blood Red Tears

I held him silently there in that alleyway.  The embrace was nothing short of extacy itself seeing as I hadn’t a drop for weeks.  My brown tone has faded once again, and I am beginning to look more and more noticeable to onlookers once again.  The dreaded sunlight will change that, however much I loathe going back up into that fiery inferno of heaven.  I am rambling, loves….forgive me.

As I held him there in my arms, the two hundered pound slab of Mafia-bred meat seemed so terrified that he actually began to weep.  Sobbing at the images of his slayn and tortured victims that were now poured through both of our souls.  His head lay there on my shoulder as I drank very eloquently and incredibly slowly.  He didn’t struggle once.  Dosile.  Peaceful. Painless.  Thats how I roll.

It wasn’t until I pulled away and let two drops of my own sweet nectar seal the wounds in his neck that I realized the tears that trickled from his eyes had tendrills of red in them like so much paint dropped in water.  I smirked at this and reveled in my victorty.  Filthy.  A man so feared in this city of lights, now slumped over my shoulder in his last lover’s embrace. Then I realized why he had wept.

This was the single most beautiful moment of his life.  Even in death, he was enjoying the brutality of the moment.  His soul yearned for the drink to linger on forever.  It whispered its plea gently to me…a plea I gently declined.  And then solace…silence…his breath gave way and his entire body went slack.  The warmth from the urine draining down his leg radiated outward and caressed my cold sinews.  And after so much time…it was all over.

I held his limp corpse there in my right arm and looked on him once more as I wiped my stained lips clean of his filth…dropped him like the sac of entrails he was and took to the sky, heading from downtown to the famed, and cursed, Luxor, where my companion, Dantes, stood patiently waiting for me in the lobby.  He greeted me, smiled and gingerly pulled an ivory hankerchief from under his sleeve.  A classic gentleman in every way.  He floated nearer and blotted the single drop of missed blood that was lingering in the corner of my mouth.  I thanked him silently.  He offered me his arm, and I accepted and, satiated and content, we meandered slowly toward the theatre…

Misery is a Shady Dame; Tales from the A Train

Interesting. That is how I would describe life lately. So many questions swimming in my head… so many things tormenting my mind and soul… usually I could write it all down and spill it here like so much water…but as of late, I find myself wordless…a simply wallflower to life…uttering the occasional awkward phrase…just watching it go by…not to be confused with pass…go by…and I keep to my thoughts…and that, for now is enough for me. I found an old scribble from my past…from early this year…in an old journal and thought that I would re-create its muse on this electrical tablet…to immortalize it for you all to see and judge… for I care not. I feel not…I …just am right now. And that is okay. Silence…can be okay…especially when the silence is in the corners of MY mind…which is so seldom at peace…

PONDER

I begin to enjoy my stop and go rides home from the inner city. Stop and go. Stop and go. Northbound on the A express, and straight on till morning…
I see so many lives come together on the train cars we all share for brief moments.

Outsider looking in…I laugh to myself and joke that at least for once the ‘glass’ I’m looking through is real.
People all coming in and out in miniscule little bursts of time. Each and every soul pretending to have a purpose, and yet only a handful of them really know who they are… at least they ACT as if they do.  Do any of us really, truly ever know who we are?

Out of all of this observation I am suddenly gifted with a thought.  If we were to give emotions physicality, I ponder…would Misery take the subway?… Would she walk down the sidewalk and glance at us all without us knowing her?…
I think she does…in many colored disguises…

I can smell her in their stale clothes and in their putrid breath as they pass the window, hands outstratched for their next pan handle, or shake from a fellow friend…

I can smell misery everywhere I am sometimes… she seems to follow Joy and Happiness wherever they go.

I ponder again …can Misery smell Happiness?

…home… bed…sleep…wake…work… watch another audition slip through my fingers because I need to work to pay rent more than I need to waste the $200 day trying out for a show… reality sucks.  How I wish I were one of the rich bastards who can afford to audition every day.  Trust funds and upstate parents are a luxury some of us only dream of.  As I think of this, Misery flashes a smile at me from across the train.  She is pleased, and sated from my distain:

So many people going through their own motions on this train… Misery is company to them all.  She is very popular…

Only she will listen to His hesitant and twitching commentary and fallandary swaying him from the dealings of a world that forgot him all together…so long ago.

He pretends his book in engaging.

She vanishes into the depths of an I-pod, while casting flashy glances his way. Does he notice? Can he see her crazed stares?

…I pass by…my stop is ahead… a wallflower… living to learn…I learn much in my daily walks…

I wonder if they know that I know them better than some of them know themselves now… in their neglegence they had forgotten me…and I see their true colors. MONEY…all about the fucking money in this place…Not about the glory…not about the work… all about the money… marketing the privileged  as trophies…I wonder what the next batch of them will look like…

Firefly, the wonder’s of the male species and me…

I sometimes wonder why when my life is seemingly at its most eventful do I not write more often…
Lazyness?
Distraction?   Time constraints topped with horrid attention deficit?

Perhaps its the fact that I’ve been working 50 hour work weeks for the past month and haven’t found the time for much else besides enjoying the book I slowly read on my train rides home and the bed that waits for me in my beautiful and comfortable appartment.  Or, perhaps my lack of writing all rests on the simple fact that I have always been one to collect my thoughts before I write them down for all to see.  Many of my best works have been the result of weeks of thoughtful procrastination followed by a two hour typing frenzy of pure genius… at least that’s how I feel about it most of the time… case-in-point: I need to write more… but fear not, my lovely readers, this is a chapter that is sure NOT to disappoint!

::To begin::

Where oh, where to begin when there are no beginnings to this chapter? Right here and right now.

Let us begin with the passing of one friend out of this city and the arrival of another.  My beloved ‘T’ whom I have shared many adventures with in this city and for the past six years left two weeks ago for the Carolinas and to be with his brother and family for a while while he pursues a career path in the armed forces. (For purposes of my own, I shall save details of dear ‘T’ for another blog entirely as I feel he is worthy of his own chapter here.)  I miss him daily and find myself thinking with a smile on my face that I will one day see and be with him again.  If one were to speak candidly, one would say I have been in love with this man for as long as I can remember and my soul tells me that our time is not over, but only just beginning.  What is more, is that in my heart, I know he knows this too.  He’s told me, in fact… though whether he can remember that, I do not know.  Alas, I digress!  All of this is for another chapter entirely!  Let’s move one shall we?
At the same time my aformentioned friend departed New York and my life for the third time, another dear friend moved here and back into my life.  Two weeks ago my best friend of eight years, ‘Red’ finally arrived, ready for whatever the city had to offer him.  I think this is one reason why Mr. T’s departure was easier for me, because when Red is around, good times are always nearby. Red is everything a guy could want in a friend, and more.  He and I have been through hell and heaven together and  it would be a simple shame to refer to him simply as my college buddy when there are far better terms to describe such a person.   He is affectionately referred to as my heterosexual lifemate, and we both find great humor in this and enjoy the amusement it brings to others.  He and I are opposites in many ways, especially in the realms of relationships and how we deal with them. There is a hidden dark humor to be found in this part of our relationship as well for while I can effortlessly attract beautiful women and cannot seem to get a man to even look twice at me, Red has the opposite problem.  From his very first entrance into a room or club with me, men go berserk for him… and yet he has challenges with the ladies.  He is the ‘nice guy’ who is seemingly forever doomed to be the ‘really fun friend’ that girls think is handsome, and everything they love…EXCEPT in a ‘boyfriend-girlfriend way’.  I am similar in that Women go bananas for me and are oft instant friends with me for no reason. I get told by them how gorgeous I am and what a catch I am, and yet men in this city rarely even give me the time of day.  Oh, I see them looking and they do a fine job of that, but am I ever approached?  Nope.  Do I know why?  Nope.   This balances our friendship in a very odd way and we both revel in its irony.  When it comes to balance Red and I are truly a perfect yin and yang and for that I am greatful.  I think our journey in this city will be yet another incredible chapter in the book of many, many amazing adventures we have found ourselves in, but again, I digress for this story is also for another chapter…

Shortly after Red’s arrival, we were invited by our mutual friend, ‘Zealy’ for an evening of food and…drum roll…Firefly…  I had never seen it, and one episode turned into a six episode extravaganza that lasted into the late hours of the night.

This is the part of the story when stupid people come into play.

Stupid people who have turned out to be dark of heart, shallow, pedantic and worst of all…a huge waste of months of my time.

But, let me tell you why…

::The Dinner Party::

Seeing my friend Zealy is always a joyous occasion.  She is one of my most favorite women in the universe and I have always found her quirky ways to be fantastic character studys.  I met Zeal’ at University as well and she and I have done several shows together.  In one show, Zeal’, who is at LEAST 9 inches shorter than I, played my twin sister.  If you aren’t following where I am going with this, I am eluding to the fact that Leezee and I are very similar in our absent mindedness.

Upon arrival at her pad, Red, a new friend Mimi and I were set to work dicing onions, cutting cheese for our wine (which turned out to be the most ghetto bottle of red wine I have ever purchased),  and preparing dinner together merrily. Zeal’ and Red left to grab some ice cream for after dinner and a Soda for the now-decided-upon Sangria we were making.  While they were gone, MiMi and I laughed to ourselves and merrily continued our preparations for the pasta and Firefly feast. As we chatted, we drank some of the awful table wine and munched on delicious nibs of smoked gouda and baby swiss.  It was somewhere in the midst of all of this chatter and good time-having that I suddenly realized I was not 100 feet from ‘Trev’s” apartment.  I hadn’t heard form him in a while and wanted to see what he was up to.

Halfway through La Festival del Firefly, I texted T-rev, the guy from a few blogs back whom I elaborated upon with great detail.  After my previously mentioned chapter that told of my exciting adventure day with this boy, whom I now know is a child masquerading as a grown up,he stopped talking to me.  I was left in silence directly after said event, and a phone call telling me that he has huge ‘boundaries’ and ‘doesn’t easily let people in because I’ve been hurt’ and wont ‘throw himself at anyone’.   All this coming from a kid barely 22.  Red flags, anyone?  But did I persist as I ALWAYS do because I like to think of myself as a good man?  … Of course I did… *insert huge eye roll and over-exagerated sigh here*

::The ‘sit down’ talk::

Now, mind you, this isn’t my first time to this particular ‘rodeo’ and I was more than prepared for the tell tale bullshit that potentially goes with any encounter of this sort.  That being said, however, I had put all pretenses about the ways that homosexual men AND their obviously jealous ‘girlfriends’ can be when their powers combine.  Did I mention these girlfriends as the obviously in- love -with and exceedingly jealous of other gay men who find their boys in the least bit attractve in any way, girlfriends?  If I haven’t, please do make note at this juncture as it will really allow you to grasp the witty sarcasm here.

I generally read people well and was surprised by this chain of events that are about to unfold for you here.

Now… I am what one in the dating and friendship world  would call ‘a really nice guy…a keeper…the real deal…courteous…old fashioned gentleman ect… This means that when I meet somebody that I enjoy, I find it a pleasure to keep in contact with them and to look forward to going places with them and getting to know them. This also means that I have faith in them as a person and do not put up walls or use the past as an excuse to be a prick or closed off.  I don’t feel that people tend to appreciate that in this thing we call the ‘human condition’.  I believe that everyone new in my life deserves a fair chance and a clean slate.

This being said,  I can also understand how said behavior may cause people with unstable pasts or relationships to find someone genuinely unjaded like myself to be a little too unconditional?  And why not?  Society, especially in New York where I live, has conditioned people to think that everyone is fair game for bitterness.  I am not one of these people, and it makes others nervous.    I am not one for instance who would say I adore you,  hang out once, or twice, say false things that negate my future actions completely and lead someone into thinking I am a great person who likes you and wants to get to know you only to turn on you and make your natural and logically sound attraction and desire for friendship into a fiasco of juvinile scandal filled with courtroom like drama and interrogation and he said you said bullshit.  I am refined enough to simply say  that’s not how I roll. But apparently some people are.   Neither am I the best friend who sabotages and plays coy and twists words of what people told me in friendship and in confidence in order to fit my agenda and my unjustified and unattainable love I seek from a friend I know deep in my heart I could never have.  I am not that friend who may be the factor in sabotaging much happiness of past people having attractions towards my loved one either.  Again, this is just not how I roll…but some people out there *ahem* do.
That being said… let’s just end this rant with…I’m not that man, but I sure have known and been the middle man in two of these situations now… guess who won both times??? You’ve just won whats behind curtain number three if you said ‘the woman in love with her GAY  boyfriend!!!  *Insert clapping from the audience*  Needless to say I was told by ‘Trev’, who went out of his way to come down to the courtyard and then take me all the way UP to his apartment like some sort of executioner, that things werent going to work out and that we needed to be ‘acquaintances and not even ‘friends’.  Does anyone else in the room smell a two year old’s bullshitty diaper?   Apparently, the ‘girlfriend’ or ‘M’ from a previous chapter, decided to let her true colors show and twist my words and actions somehow into a dark and wicked tale of how I was out to make her miserable and that I was the same as all the other men who have liked her beloved man.  She even went as far as taking a conversation I had with her and asked her to let things fall as they fell with he and I without her input and managed to twist that into me being the devil who told her to stay out of everything completely?  Who does this shit… especially to their friends…without so much as talking about it?  Who just shits right in their friends hand while cooing over the other?  No friend of mine, thats who.  And, I remind the reader again, for what?  Because I had an attraction to her GAY best friend.  Because I wanted a friendship and maybe more with her GAY best friend.  If you are asking yourself where the crime in all of this is and what you are missing… you arent missing anything.  There was no scandal, there were no nights where anyone was left out…there were no capers to rob the bank downtown on our way outta town… NOTHIN!… Just a guy, who liked his girl friend’s other gay friend. . . and out of this a FUCKING SHITLOAD of drama.

Well, after being told all of this…no, read all of this like it was some sort of courtroom drama by a very serious and very ‘holier than thou’  ’Trev’, I stood up and promptly let myself out of his den of destruction without further protest.  The boy I left in that apartment who was trying so hard to be a man, won’t know or even realize how stupid he and his heartless friend were.  Not for a while anyway.  Any by then all will be in the past and he will be no more in my mind than one of the countless other pretty faces out there that I have met with no soul.  If aging gracefully has taught me anything, its that most… most because my husband and a few of you good eggs are still out there…most beautiful men are truly UGLY on the inside… and most of these men who say they are really ‘living’ and independent, are nothing.  How can someone begin to live with a dark and closed off heart?  That is not living… that is only existing inside a miserably wasted beautiful shell.  And a waste it is.  Anyone who would waste a friendship with me has got be be losing their mind and I have many who would back this statement.  R.I.P. ‘Trev’ and lady ‘M’.  I hope you are most happy together, because as long as she holds the reigns, ain’t NO man gonna eva’ wanna get up in all that.

::Back Into the Swing::

So, after a brief phone call to my sister to sort things out, I was back on track.  Let the record show that said sister was lying in bed with her current gorgeous boyfriend and was acting, as she always does in the company of those she is trying to impress while on the phone, too cool for school.  No help there, although I love her dearly and more than my luggage.  Still…no help there.  It occurred to me as I was walking back to Zeal’s that there was no need to feel anything here but reaffirmed.  I picked up my stride that instant and remembered why I came here in the first place.  It wasn’t to find love, though I wouldn’t oppose it.  It wasn’t to date or to find a relationship for that matter, though I would not oppose those things either if I came upon them…no pun intended…I am here to find work, yes and to audition yes… but I am also here to learn…to love life and to LIVE in the moment.  I am here to be …alive.  With these thoughts in mind and this story now completed for later in my head, I walked back into Zeal’s living room, plopped down on the pull out sofa bed with my three friends and watched the rest of what turned out to be three amazing episodes of my new found show du jour.  This Firefly craze is not without warrant.  It is a brilliant show.   We all laughed, enjoyed our ice cream and eachother’s company, and for the first time in my life, I didn’t even think to look back at what had just happend, and never did again.

Moving on…

Sometimes, I feel like I am doing everything in my life for no purpose.  It is one of those weeks. 
Why am I here?   Why am I pursuing theatre when it is constantly fraught with dissappointment?  Am I reall here in this stinky city because I love it or because I desperately wish for acceptance from my family and surrounding friends…many of whom I don’t ever see even though they live right around the corner… everywhere in this city is right around the corner for those of you who haven’t been here…  Why am I still alone, after countless heartbreaks, and growth and why has my family never encouraged that realm of happiness in me when it seems its a necessity for my sister to be married to a rich, handsome suitor?  Why are people afraid to approach me, especially the ones I am attracted to?   Why..why…why… the why’s this week have begun to overrate the importance of why I am here. 
I am still passionate about performance, don’t get me wrong… but performance is pulled from life experience, and right now… I am thirty years old inside of a twenty two year old body and am lonely as I can ever remember being. 
I am alone here. 
Alone for a creature born to love is a terrible place to exist in.  To be devoid of affection, attention and the muse allotted from happiness is slowly driving the joy out of me, and I don’t like it.  
I am only saying this because I need to vent and honestly, I put on my happy face all the time so this is one of the few places I can do so.
I can’t say this to any of my family… they always make me feel bad for doing so… like the child who is evil if he is anything but perfect and has a constant stream of sunshine shooting out his ass… but I too, am human…and I too long for the physical stimulations that human happiness and connection allots… my mother is strong and always trys to make me stronger…my sister is blissfully unaware of anyones feelings but her own and has been for most of her teen and adolescent life…my step dad is a ranch hardened cowboy who has his own toils and thinks anything other than his way is grounds for a fight as far as I am concerned and my best friends with whom I like to confide are on the other side of the country and are hard to talk to …
None of this matters, of course… I’m just another person living my life… responsible for making my own happiness… but that doesn’t mean I can’t vent about it here…

Sleepless in the sleepless city… a gentle ramble…

Insomniac…night owl…nocturn… to me, they all mean the same, but recently it has been more apparant to me than usual.  By this I mean that it is usually by choice that my consciousness lingers into the wee hours of the morning.  For the last two weeks, it has been the opposite and I have been enslaved by the four a.m. Sandman.  Why do you bring me such torment, my sweet Morpheus?
The last time I fell asleep and actually slumbered well, I wasn’t even in my own space.  I was nuzzled between two friends, one old and one new, some two weeks ago.  I drifted off to the sounds and giggles of Will and Grace with T-rev’s intermittent laughs, and the gentle gleaning of his fingers through my hair and between my shoulder blades; my arm draped over his waist.  I hadn’t been comfortable and at ease like that in months…the lion, tamed by Aries’ gentle touch, as it were.  Even though I would like to, I am not fooling myself into thinking that my intense slumber was anything but this new charmer…but past pains have kept that admittance from my mind and lips until now…my body needed the closeness of another, even just the touch.

Even in confiding said feelings to a close mutual friend (lady M), proved to be a fatal conversation killer.  Seems to me that one’s perceived happiness is another’s green faced pain, and yet anothers confused and silent wonder.  Funny how life works like that… but at least I slept… Slept so well that I awoke in a tiny ball at the foot of the bed, as I often do when at my most comfortable and vulnerable.  Out of respect for Lady M, I didn’t snuggle too tightly that evening, but would have given my all in wrapping my entire energy around his heart and flawless vessel…something I have also kept silent and to myself until these words spilled out on this electronic page.
How one night can spring so many tbhoughts and churning emotions still baffles me, but this is th case in my life.  Always has been.  I am finicky to a flaw, but this also allows me the gift of knowing in an instant if I will choose to let another into my soul.  Needless to say, its been three years and some days since I have looked into someone else’s eyes and have seen nothing but amazing staring right back at me through the m/ost dazzling emerald-ringed topaz eyes I can honestly say I have ever seen.
Funny, fresh, independant, talented and completely smart assed… flawless combination… strikingly handsome don’t do him justice but… do words ever do justice to someone in these circumstances?   Probably not.
Best part… I have thought long, hard and honestly about this whole thing…right down to the sleepless nights… and my conclusion?  I am lucky to have two such amazing friends in my life here in this city… and am lucky just to call this new man nothing more than friend…anything else that comes out of it is a bonus for sure… but not worth the cost of a beautifully compatible friendship… but oh, to dream about the possibilities.  To dream period… maybe these thoughts will inspire more shut eye for me this evening…one can only hope…

Purple Summer and the Wonders of Sobriety

One month, two days, twelve hours, fourty one minutes…
I have been in this city for that long… in the heart of the world and fittingly named so as it truly is the city that does not sleep, and is so hot here that it feels as if I am but one of millions of blood plateletts being shuttled through the enourmos veins of its infrastructure.  
Eight hours sleep as a must had to have been coined here for it is the first place I’ve been where it is deemed completely necessary, although I don’t necessarily attain that necessity on a nightly basis.
Thirty days… the time I have gone without smoking my old lady M.J…. and yet I cannot recall missing her.  Things here have become more and more visceral in her absence and the only thing I can admit to missing is the tone she set…the way everything blended together and was dulled down when riding the winds on her green back.  I do not miss the loss of my greenbacks to her purse however, and am glad of the extra poclet full when shopping or going to the silver screen for a get away… not to mention the pocket burning incurred by my addicting live stage ‘research’ methodology…and my love of it thereof.  At least those greenbacks won’t go missing for long.  Writing off an evening of live enjoyment for employment research permits secret enjoyment inside of my never sleeping, superhighway and makes its proscessor tick a beat faster in anticipation of it being my turn to be the reason for all the burned pockets at tkts booth in times square…
Day off…the first in days of work in the sun, layered in black.  Hit the train and head to the ave they call fifth for a trip to H&M to buy…more black clothes.  Lighter is my motto as I shuffle through the garments.  Good friend miss M. Meets me there with a new (and striking) friend…mister T…pun not intended… scored three new shirts, bitchin slacks and new kicks to keep me cool(er) than I have been. 
Spend the rest of the day in the walking company of two of new yorks finest, stopping at the necessary stops for errand runs, a new update for the laptop and ended the eve at dinner talking biz at the french shop where Meg Ryan waited for mister Hanks in that movie about mail… delish…
Smiles, laughs and a walk on the river and am still smiling ear to ear on the train… cancelled on a friend without intention tonight…will have to make it up…but for now…all is well.

Pay No Attention… Recipes for remembering

This wont be up for long… I need it to help me remember.

Tacos:

Pollo: 3oz Torredo Chix/corn tort/red,yello poblano/ pico/Shred lettuce/crema  Red rice/pinto and salsa trio

Pescado: (mahi)4oz/ spicy cabb slaw/pico/ chipotle aioli/ guac/flour tort  Mex rice/ref. black beans and salsa trio

Carnita: 3oz pork/ sauteed onion,cilantro/ tomatillo-serrano chile salsa/ shaved cabbage in red wine vin/ cotija cheeze/rice’n'pinto

Asada: beef 3.5oz/ chipotle chile/ carmel onions/guac/ corn tortilla/ cotija/pico  red rice/pinto and trio

LUNCH ONLY: Sesame Tuna Taco: 5oz temp seared/ boston bibb lettuce/ papaya salsa/ chile lime salt/smoked chile vinagrette and served with black bean pico de gallo.

L/D:  Short Rib Tacos: served in cast iron skill w/ lime and oregano cured onion/ ref. pinto beans/ spicy cabb slaw/ elotte de calle(street corn)/ warm corn tortillas/ salsa trio

Taco Platters:

Chicken Tinga Tacos:  Shredded chicken cooked with minced garlic. tom, oni, chipot, cider vin, piloncillo and oregano, topped w/ tomatillo pico. In cast iron sk w/ref pinto/ elote de valle and spicy cabb slaw and corn tortillas

Cochinita Pibil: Achiote and citrus mar pork slow cooked in banana leafs/ cast iron skillet w/ habanero and cit pickled red onion/orange segment/cilantro/ Ref pinto/spicy callabe slaw/ elotte de calle/warm corn tort/ salsa3

Lamb Barbacoa:  Braised Lamb Barb. style (adobo rub= ancho, guadalidilljo chile, onion, garlic, tomatillos,mex oregano,cumin, bay leaves, cider vin, orange jce) slow cooked in banana leaves/ topped jalapeno mint salsa/pickled bird chile/ crema/ cilantro leaves/ Cast iton skillet/refried pinto/elotte de calle/ spicy slaw/ corn tortillas.

Carne Parrillada: Grill sirloin, sliced/ in cast iron skillet/ smoked bacon, chihuahua chz, cotija, poblano, pico de gallo, guac w/ ref pinto and elote de calle/ mexi slaw/ corn tortillas

SPECIALTIES/ PLATTERS

Dos Encheladas: Pastor marinated/roast chick in 2 crn tort/ one w/ tomatillo slsa crema/ one with mole poblano/ toast sesame seed/ both w/ melted chihuahua chz/ radish side of mexi rice

Pollo A la Plancha: Spiced 1/2 mountainaire chix atop saffr. fideos (noodles) w/ toast almonds/tequila soaked golden raisin/edamame and haricot verts

Seared Diver Scallops: Jumbo diver scallopspan seared/ over coconut-jasmine rice, passion frt mojo de ajo and grilled pineapple and jicama salsa.

Ribeye Alahambra: Skewers of bacon wrap’d rib eye/ poblano chile/onions/cremini mushroom/ over arroz con crema/ w/ chimichurri sauce/pico/ flour tortillas

Skirt Steak: 10oz cilantro cumin mar steak/ sliced and serv’d w/ frijoles borrachos/ roast tomato and carmel onion salsita and cilantro chimichurri.

Camerones: Seared jumbo shrimp w/ garlic, guajillo chile, chile mojo de ajo (garlic sauce), w/ saffron and palicious chorizo rice/ piquillo peppers, edamame and achiote roast cauliflower.

Pescado Vercruz (sea bass): Tres Chile Mar Chilean Seabass w/ haricor verts/ fingerling potatoes/ salsa Veracruzana w/ trad lime and jalapeno garnish.

Quesadillas:

Farmers Market: Eggplant/zucchini/chayote squash/ red oni/ red and yellow pepper/portabello/ poblano chiles marinated in maggi chimichurri and grilled/ roasted tomato salsa d’arbol/ mex cheeze blend/ cilantro crema/ w/ ref blk bns and r.rice

Open Faced Shrimp: 6 shrimp mar. in tomato de arbol salsa/ grilled and served w/ oven roast tomato salsita/ smoked wild mushroom topped with melted mexi cheeze blend/ on crispy 12″ flour tort topped with epaxote and drizzled crema w/ mex rice

Lunch:  Chicken: Chipot. bbq chix/ mexi chz blend/ on crispy flour tort/ w/ ref. pinto and mexi rice/ pico/pickled serrano                             La Cubana: herb Roast prok, sliced smoked ham, chihuahua, mexi pickles, chipotle aiol, sweet pepper relish/w                                            ref. pinto beans

Civeche’s:

Tequila Cured Salmon:  w/ roast mango habanero salsa/mango passion frt pico/ Topped w/ whole cilantro an orange seasalt.

Tuna: Sushi grade big eye tuna soy lime marinade/spicy red wakame/chile toreado rings/toast sesame seed/ sesame oil/ cilantro

Lobster and Shrimp: Citrus and habanero mar. shrimp/ maine lobster w/ oranges/lime/avocado

Salads:

Mexican Chopped:Corn, apples, romaine, roast poblano chile, pinto, gr. olives, tomato, onion, crispy tortillas, cotija chz, in Cumin Vinaigrette

Chicken Cobb: (LUNCH ONLY)…Chx breast, tomato, avocado, chorizo, corn, onion, tortilla strips, queso fresco w/ side of cilantro basil vinaigrette.

Ensalada de Calle: Mango, melon, cucumber, jicama, pineapple, papaya, watercress, in Jalapeno Lime Vinaigrette and ancho chile powder dust.

Empanada’s:

Roasted Plantain: 4 plantain masa stuffed w/ black bean, cotija, cumin and scallions w/ chipotle aioli and cotija chz

Beef Picadillo: Flour masa w/ beef picadillo served with mango chile sauce and cotija chz topping

Mexico City Quesadilla: Cilantro tinted masa stuffed with roast pepper, potatoes, cheez blend, queso requeson, jalapeno and costeno chile w/ roast pasilla de oaxaca sauce, chopped epazote and crema drizzle.

Queso Fundito: drunken goat, meunster and chihuahua chz w/cream and chile rajas in a iron Cazuela topped w/ pickled jalaps and sundried tomato  w/ skewers of fingerling pots and chorizo and warm flour tortillas

Next To Normal and me …

Heart healed, toxins sweated out, weight normal…Patient is …stable.

‘They‘ say that an actor’s best tool box is his own life experience.

After a year of incredible life changes, loss, gains and much enlightenment, I would have to agree with the pro’s.
The sweetest gift is concocted from the bittersweet ingredients of life, just as the most poignant musicals are those that people can relate to on so many levels…that the actors themselves can relate to on personal levels. The ability to let your raw soul show for an audience, and more importantly, for yourself is one of the most therapeutic and exhilarating of my human experiences.

This is why I do what I do.

Next to Normal, is a musical that brings al of those feelings and experiences off my life to the surface. I have now seen it twice (worth ever scrounged penny) and have been studying the book and lyrics for the last few days and relating its story to my own. The role of Gabriel is one that I now know I could play with ease, truth and without ever growing tired of his exquisite and haunting journey… in a reprise at the climax of the show, we see Gabriel and Dad alone… Gabriel is struggling to make his father see him (no spoilers)… while his father sits in the dark, mourning the loss of his love, life,world and son…I choose to put these lyrics down because, for those of you who know me, you know who I am…and the words ring true not just to my father and father figures, but to some of the men whom I have chosen to let inside my heart. This is not a post of clinging, mourning or anything else…simply to show you an example of an actor personalizing something that was written by another and maing it his own… and to show you how I could not have done it without you, without experiencing all of you…to show you that I know that you know…who I am.

I am the one who loved you.
I am the one who stayed.
I am the one, and you walked away.
I am the one who waited,
And now you act like you just don’t give a damn,
Like you never knew who I am.

I am the one who knows you,
I am the one you fear.
I am the one whose always been here.
I am the one who’ll heal you,
I know you told her that I’m not worth a damn,
But I know you know who I am…

….No….

I know you know who I am.

…can’t you just leave me alone?…

I know you know who I am.

…why didn’t you just go with her?…

‘Cause I’m holding on.

…Let me go…

And I won’t let go

…Let me go…

And I want you to know

I am the one who held you

I am the one who cried

I am the one who watched while you died.

I am the one who loved you,

I tried pretending that I dont give a damn…

But you’ve always know who I am…

Beautifully written and wonderfully executed on stage, this has been integrated as one of my audition songs.  But, it could not have been a good audition without a soul behind it…without that abandon I spoke of earlier…without the experiences.  So, to J.S., S.E.B., B.C., R.P., D.S.H. and my long lost J.E.M., and most beloved, DeXtEr… thank you… without you, a work like this would be simply…another song.

~Namaste~

The funniest day in hell that I ever lived…

As I lay here in my bed, itching…smiling…slowly eating as I watch Vanilla Sky, I take in a deep and invigorating breath, and exhale joyfully…I am alive

… Great day…. hot/cold shower…water changed every 30 secs, longest shift EVER at work, got my mc ducks fix on bway on the way home and SPILLED my beloved Coke all over the subway floor… got off the train and my bad of dinner ripped and fell everywhere…and I got home to realize I had left my bedroom door op…en and … cat hair…all…over…my…comforter…and Im outta zyrtec…

I laugh out loud, and  marvel at how it echoed of the walls…probably woke the roomie up … If i had this on camera, it would be an entire sitcome pilot… hmmmm   …but am I mad?…nope..I’m just sitting here on the bed, eating my partially smashed, yet still delicious sandwich, cold fries and newly purchased (bottled) coke and laughing at how funny I am …