Meta

Spring cleaning:

Eulogy for a Freight Train full text now available, at the link on your left.

Colophon is also updated. Self-definition no longer includes soft Anarchist pretensions.

3.08

On the damn ball.

Personal

Recently went chasing after a girl and found myself temporarily and mysteriously drifting further and further into awkwardness (never try to flirt on an empty stomach?). I extricated myself before (hopefully) any damage was done, but the episode, compounded by a forty five minute wait for a bus in the cold (vote to fund your metro transit!), brought on some of the nasty Fear. Apocalyptic visions of hopeless pedophilia at age fifty five; powdered milk, a color TV and a Bowie knife scattered around my rotten body. And so on. Not realistic visions, certainly, but the quality of fear is not rational.

Apropos of what I was saying last month, the way forward probably all has to do with letting go and listening: appropriately, a lesson straight from Room 20 in Circus School.

Ian being around has occasioned much fine scotch and bourbon, and also many lengthy conversations about the nature of Albuquerculosis, that wide and startling sense of possibility, positivity and freedom common to my friends and I growing up. One of my finer moments, while welcoming Katy and Kelley to Albuquerque, caught in mid stride:

Do not think that in coming to Albuquerque you are merely visiting a place. Oh no. Because Albuquerque is more than a place – it is also the embodiment of a dream: the fully realized life. This dream is the main project of my being – it is a kind of

Oddly enough, this video is being discussed (or at least commented on) on DukeCityFix.com, a mere one day after I posted it. Welcome, Duke City Fixers! You have no idea how much expat love I carry every day for our fine city. I have two great loves in my life: the theatre and Albuquerque. It is one of my life’s great heartbreaks to be divided in these.

Exile.

Professional

It’s less and less likely looking that Chicago Shakes will come in and swoop me into the fold next fall. That’s alright.

Expanding and contracting opportunities for the summer. Looks like a no-go on all but one of the Shakespeare outfits I’ve auditioned for, which is mildly irritating to my ego. Texas Shakes (whose extremely exciting trip to Beijing has come under doubt) sent me an email that said not this year, but hopefully someday. One of 50 in 1500 under serious consideration, and so on. So that helps mediate.

Lookingglass just called me in the other day to audition for an understudy role in Lookingglass Alice. It’s a role that I think my doppleganger played before me. Constantly mistaken for one another in college, it is my hope that he’s paved the way for me at Lookingglass. We’ll do a production of Comedy of Errors someday, it’ll be grand.

Once generals roll through at the Goodman, to the which I have been bade to come, that will make a complete round of all of the big dog theatres.

Political

Seriously: what the hell, Hillary?

What the hell.

That’s not even lying. That’s just crazy. That’s just… not what happened.

She “misspoke.” Twice? After having been corrected? In public, on camera?

Really?