The singles scene

Ummm- I just took a valium so this shouldn't take long.

Bar hookups. Not like, one night stands but "Hi, I think you're cute, here's my number, call me." bar hook ups are such a crap shoot, aren't they? Like why do they fill you with such anxiety? It's like an audition. You know whenyou go to an open call and it's not a show you're even really that interested in- but you get a few callbacks- suddenly it's all you can think about? What is it about that bar flirtation that gets oyou so hopeful? Is it the anticipation of possibly seeing them again in the light of day without the social lubication of alchohol? Or is it the dread of not hearing from them at all- or both? I don't know. I got his number but the ball's in his court.

Peace.

Oh, oh- Oh, my God, it wasn't a dream!

*deep breath in*

So say you had like this really intence secret about someone. Say- okay- say you have this girlfriend named Jane who's fabulous and you love her dearly and then some friend of Jane's that rotates outside yours and Jane's circle calls and tells you this really, really intence secret. It's not so much about her like "I heard Jane sleeps around" but it's involving her, like "I'm gonna offer Jane a part on Broadway" only not that awesome. Okay? Don't you just want to call Jane? Aren't you like foaming at the mouth with this incredible peice of information about Jane? But here's the thing- it's a secret. You CAN'T tell Jane. Keeping the secret is in the best intrest of Jane, no matter how much you hate Broadway and you think it's a bad idea- Broadway is her choice and you have to let her make her own decision. And calling and telling her about it will ruin Jane!

*long sigh out*
*deep breath in*

Why? Why did Broadway have to call and tell you? Broadway isn't stupid! Broadway fucking knows you hate it. You've always hated it. Infact, back in the day when Broadway and Jane were first courting, you couldn't even look broadway in the eye. You were like "Fuck Broadway, and Fuck Jane." Even though you and Jane made up- you still hate Broadway. It knows, why can't it get that through it's thick, giant, useless skull? Calling you up in the middle of the day with this information. Seriously, Broadway must have giant brass balls. Oh, my GOD- I'm gonna KILL Broadway.

*short gasping breaths in*

JANE CANNOT GO TO BROADWAY BEFORE ME!!! JANE IS YOUNGER THAN ME, GOD DAMMIT!!!! No, no, that's not the only thing- its one of the things. Hey, if she goes through with this, she completely retarted. Everybody knows it. Okay- maybe not retarted but- Oh dammit what is the damn word? The thing is- if she goes through with it, she may get to Broadway before me, but she will also LEAVE Broadway before me. Get it? Oh, you totally don't! That's the beauty of this ridiculous metaphor! Oh, God! Okay- Jane is a smart girl. She and Broadway just barely got back on speaking terms. We all know she and Broadway couldn't make it work when she lived in... New York. (I guess?) Let's just be cool here.

*long sigh out*

I have to tell her. Oh GOD! I can't!

*hyperventilation*
*loss of consciousness*

Birthday alarm

One time when I was like 9, I got the worst flu in the history of time. It was tragic because not only, was I vomitting every thirteen minutes, have the highest temperature on record, and the inability to sleep for more than 20 minute intervals, but I also had the chicken pox. No, this seriously happened. Awful, right? No it gets worse. In the middle of the plague that infested my pink gingham bedroom was, get this, my ninth bithday. Yes, it was my birthday and I was the walking dead. Oh, my mom tried to make it fun with a nutritious birthday pedialyte and a new lovely ice pack- but she also bought me a tv with cable- which made the pestilence a little more bareable. That birthday was horrific, but it taught me a lesson. That lesson was this: Just because it's your birthday doesn't mean that you're going to have a good day. It's a hard pill to swallow at the tender age of nine, but then again what isn't?

Now don't get me wrong, it's not that I haven't tried to have fun on my birthday every (goddammed) year, but something always comes and screws it all up. I say I want it low key and I end up in some Irish pub on a college campus with like 15 of my coworkers. I say I want a party and suddenly everyone is busy. Check this out. Recently on my birthday, I planned what I thought was the most brilliant of plans. All I wanted was to go to my favorite restaurant. Crowd be damned- I just want me and my favorite people to eat my favorite food. That is ALL I want. So I say to anyone who wants to know- "Hey, I'm going to Char's. Come if you want to." Surprisingly, alot of people responded! I was pretty shocked and (here's where the giant mistake got made) I began to think "Hey, maybe life isn't that bad. Maybe I do have alot of good friends.Maybe it really is all good. So an hour before dinner, two of my girls from work cancel. One actually had the decency to call and break my heart, the other told me through TEXT. Then, my oldest friend calls and says she has a knee injury from rehearsal and she really shoudn't go out because she needs to rest up for her show. Then, another one of my friends, someone who has never let me down when it comes to a party before calls- she has to work "Can we all possibly meet her around 11pm?" The thing was, some actually wonderful people showed up that night. But, since I had so foolishly gotten my hopes up, all I could do was feel like shit all night. A few days later was my best friend's boyfriend's birthday. (A guy I don't even like.) Guess who got guilted into trekking her black ass to his shitty birthday party? Exactly.

That brings me to my next point. It seems like everyone elses birthday is always diamonds and roses but mine never EVER is. My best friend has monumental birthdays every year. She has like eight parties and everyone always has fun. Oh my God, I took her to Vegas for her 21st birthday! I have this other friend from an old job who gets the most rockstar birthdays I've ever seen! I'm talking champagne, clubs, limos- destinations! Last year, there was this guy I was pretty obsessed with, he'd had a pretty lousy year so I wanted to show him an awesome time. I went all out! I took him to this awesome restaurant where our meals got COMPED! We went VIP to like 4 clubs in Scottsdale! I'm not kidding, I even got this gorgeous dancer/model from inside the club to make out with him. I said "It's my friend's birthday" and pointed and she went and shoved her tongue down his throat. BEST BIRTHDAY EVER. So good infact that here, a year later, we barely talk and he just invited me to his birthday- you see how that goes? Hey, question: Did he even make an appearance at my low-key birthday dinner at my favorite restaurant. Answer: What the hell do you think?

I'm not gonna lie- I would try to say "Fuck my birthday" and just never celebrate it, but then you know what would happen? I'd just get pissed off that no one cared enough about me to throw me a birthday party. God, I just hate my fucking birthday! I have the most prime day of the year for a birthday too. Right before summer! It should be the best party day- but hell no. What am I really celebrating anyway? The fact that I was born? Well that's no cause for celebration! I mean, cool, I'm here, but what does that mean? One crazy night in August my parents got a little horny and nine months later- me. Whoopdi-frickin-do. Or are we really celebrating the fact that I haven't died yet? Wow, that's a joyous occasion. "Yay! You haven't contracted a fatal disease or been hit by a bus! Have some cake!"

Here's what I'm gonna do. No, I'm not gonna say "fuck my birthday". I'm gonna say "Fuck ALL birthdays." Yeah, you heard me. I'm going on strike. I will sit in thisvery spot oblivious to the day you were born until I get one good birthday. I'm not asking for a plane ticket to Maui or a new car or even an epic party. All I'm asking for is one good day. A day where nobody cancels, a day where our fun plans actually get executed. A day where I don't get sick. A day I don't have to work three jobs. I just want it to be a day I can look back on and not think "If only (insert catastrophic thing here) hadn't happened. I bet it would have been fun." That's right, no birthdays until mine works, once. Sorry- that's just how it's gonna be. So there ya go.

Wedding addiction!

I am not this girl, I swear.

Somehow, maybe by accident, I've stumbled upon this David's Bridal website and it has this feature where you can dress your wedding. Well, obviously, I'm not getting married anytime soon- but, okay, I thought it might be fun. The next thin I know, I''ve been oon this damn computer for HOURS planning a wedding that doesn't exsist. I've got my gown, my bridesmades, the
setting(s), the groom, his groomsmen- I even dressed my imaginary groom's imaginary mother. I have a spring wedding, a destination wedding, a fall wedding and an indoor ultra formal wedding. I've officially lost it.

I wish you could see it, it's intence.

Just not... wait how do you say it?

Oh yeah, before I forget. Two doors down. That uh- that never happened. Oh we hung out. Oh- we did the drinking- we just never got past that. I think he looked at me like a peice of furniture. (read: Never wants to have sex with me. EVER)

Gawd- what is the DEAL?!?!

Etcetera, etcetera, etcetera....

I guess I can say I've always wanted to be a Prather girl. When I moved back into town having sworn off theater, at least for the meantime, someone said to me "Hey, jenn, did you hear they built a new theater right next to you house?" At first I couldn't be bothered with a theater in east mesa. I mean, come on now. But, one day, I took the five block drive and checked it out for myself- and what d'ya know? It was actually a classy joint. They were doing Evita at the time, as I recall. I didn't see the inside of the house for a few years- but I did audition for the Prath' two weeks after my initial sighting. I guess I did alright- who knows? But I didn't get a job....

For the next few years, I did what every scorned actor does, I set out to find out every horrible peice of publicity on that theater that did the said scorning. And yeah, I added my own two cents in. Okay, there. I said it. I saw a couple shows- look, alright, i was seething with jealousy everytime someone I knew was in a show there regardless of what the show was or what I thought of it. Then, a good friend of mine got a tour with the Prather's and I knew that I had to get a job there, somehow. Left and right I saw friends of mine picking up contracts there. Not me- not once. And it didn't help matters that they never did any shows appropriate for me (read: no black people).

So I started working for THE THEATER. Once again I am bombarded with people having worked for the Prather's. I knew I had to work for them if I was going to have any street cred! So I went to Tennesee, auditioned for like 80 different theaters and guess what- I got a job with the Prather's. Cute little classy joint five blocks away from my house in east mesa.

So excited! Phew! That only took five years!

Here I was thinking I was just going to have to suffer through another workless summer in AZ. Good Lord. The tragedy. But no! Not only do I get to work, but I get to work for a company I've been striving to work for for a very long time. Oh- and here's the best part. I'm going to be in The King and I. This, my friends, was the first musical I was ever in. And in May 2007, it will be a literal 20 years to the date I starred in it.. Well, not exactly starred- exsisted in was more like it. Anyway- I will be playing a role my mother played- 20 YEARS AGO!!! can you believe it? I'm sure she can't either! Anyway- I just had get that out.

YAY!

I want to go outside!!!!!

So bored. So effing bored I could scream for no reason- infact... there. that was unsatisfying and loud.

Ballsack. Nowhere to go, no contract to run out and fulfill, no money, no plans. Feeling a bit like I'm drowning. Just had to get that out.

Hey, ya'll. I'm back.