Very pleased to announce that we have graduated from crappy, flammable Ikea furniture to sturdy, maybe slightly less flammable, moderately priced CB2 furniture. I am also proud to announce that the bookshelf contains a great many old issues of the Babysitter’s Club, and that Morrison plays video games on the TV. ARE WE GROWN UPS YET?
Looking at my schedule for next week, I realize I’m meeting with four different people so that they might ‘pick my brain.’ As a classic Gemini, I’m of two minds about this. Mind Pt. 1: I am happy to do it, especially in honor of those who did it for me when I was just starting out. If I can offer any insight that might help a person get to where they want to be, then good on me, good on them, and good on kindness. Mind. Pt. 2: my brain is currently in a million places. It’s held together by frayed bits of old friendship bracelet and sour punch straws and the subpar bobby pins that really don’t hold any hair in place at all. If anyone were to, at this point, ‘pick my brain,’ it actually might lose its structure entirely.
We are still on the jet lag struggle bus and keep waking up at 4 AM, like COMPLETELY AND TOTALLY AWAKE but also deeply tired but also desperately in need of toast. You lie there, convincing yourself you’re tired enough to sleep as opposed to just theoretically tired. You think of plays about pillows. You tell stories and make up songs. Here’s a selection from this morning, 5:45 AM, after we’d been just laying there in a hellish in-between for 2 hours:
Me: HOW’S IT GOING?
Me: You awake?
Morrison: I am now. But I’m trying to sleep.
Me: Me too.
A few moments of pretend rest.
Me: (SO LOUD): THE SUN’LL COME OUT / RIGHT NOWWWW / BET YOUR BOTTOM DOLLAR THAT RIGHT NOW / THERE’S THE SUN
Me: RIGHT NOW! RIGHT NOWWWW! THERE’S ALWAYS RIGHT NOW / THERE’S ALWAYS RIGHT NOW, RIGHT NOWWWWWW
Morrison: are you done?
Me: (HYSTERICAL LAUGHTER)
Slept til 11 and spending the day on the couch surrounded by leftover Christmas candy, because this year, I resolve to give myself a break, and allow myself to just Be (on couch / surrounded by candy), and also because tequila and jet lag had an angry baby that now lives in my head.
There’s a thing going around instagram, Best 9, in which people post a grid of their best nine pictures from 2016, summing up a year in their lives. Whenever everyone is doing something it kind of makes me not want to do it, as I am no sheep, by which I mean BAAAAAAAA I’LL JUST DO IT HERE INSTEAD but with 24 pictures because I LIVE MY OWN LIFE (IN GRIDS.) And so with no further ado, it has been a magnificent year! I:
Ate that chicken pot pie in a blizzard, wrote for American Gods, had a beautiful production of my Heaven play at South Coast Rep, found the perfect overalls and wore them approximately 170 times, washed them about 3 times, took a surfing lesson with Elizabeth, had a Dewey’s pink lemonade cake to call my own at my Easter pot luck thanks to my Mom, ran a 5K with a little girl Monet who ate gummy savers the whole way thanks to Blaine, celebrated 2 years with Mo at Red Lobster, patroned Ru Paul’s drag con, got after that no speaking above a whisper resort life in Joshua Tree, spent some time writing at Space on Ryder farm in upstate New York, went to Carrie’s Beyonce themed beybe shower (then later welcomed and met her dear little Sebastian who I am now calling Bash / 2017 let’s see if we can get that going), and then also:
Had the most perfect of bridal showers complete with hats and tiny sandwiches, spun for 3 hours in YAS-a-thon for cancer research, made Ina Garten’s flag cake, welcomed little nephew Mojo, worked on The Cake at the Alliance, Echo and Ojai, did Vegas so hard bachelorette style, tried on a bunch of white dresses / picked one had a bunch dress fittings / obsessed over its details and its accessories namely did I ever mentioned that Ferris Bueller cropped leather coat? / GOT MARRIED / cast my vote for a woman president for the first time, attended Blaine and Jason’s non baby shower baby shower, read Vivian Howard’s incredible cookbook, and started writing for This is Us. And so, a great many things.
Last week I started to have dreams that I was left out of something creative, being mocked for output or performance. Personal favorite: I dreamt I had to play a drunk dog onstage and the reviews were terrible (this dream brought to you by the first night in Hong Kong, surrounded by every stimulus possible.) I think the dreams stem from a feeling that I haven’t accomplished enough creatively this year, like I haven’t dug enough into my own heart / brain. I’ve been working, yes, but I feel, in general, sort of uninspired, like the questioning part of my brain has been numbed. It’s most likely because the majority of all extra time and emotional brainspace I had went to wedding planning. And so, I will forgive myself, hope that 2017 brings characters / moments / stories / questions, big new ideas, but ALSO, more cakes / adult onesies / trips / love, FOR BALANCE.
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Folks, if you’re just tuning in / playing along from home: we are in fact leaving on our honeymoon TOMORROW instead of YESTERDAY. Also, this is a terrible game show. There are no prizes. Maybe find something else to do. Other announcements related to the trip that I am going on, but YOU are not going on, so why do I force you to ride the waves of its drama with me?!: I’m not bringing my computer. Huge, I know. While I COULD get some cool staged pictures of myself ‘working,’ I am more excited to disconnect from my beast friend for a few days for the first time in years and years. I have nightmares monthly that I leave it somewhere. I will now do so on purpose, open my brain back up, confront my bad handwriting, force myself to not google my own thoughts, but instead just have them. The real question: will I blog? I can do so from my phone. And so, PROBABLY.
I finally agreed to let Morrison sell the keyboard that has been just sitting there untouched for a year, after my failure to re-learn it last fall. I mean, it’s one thing to admit failure, which I did, but it is yet another to have the failure constantly staring you in the face and also taking up valuable wall space in our cozy whimsical cottage shared by two giants who btw cannot play the piano. And so, as any kind and gentle giant partner would, he saved me from my despair. His craigslist Ad is PRICELESS and also COMPLETELY THE TRUTH.
When you are a lady playwright raised to please and to apologize, and you get a series of bad reviews written by OTHER lady writers who write directly and bravely and without apology because they were perhaps raised THAT way, THE PROPER RESPONSE IS TO EMAIL THE REVIEWERS AND DEEPLY APOLOGIZE AT LENGTH FOR RUINING THEIR EVENINGS AND WASTING THEIR TIME AND GO INTO GREAT DETAIL ABOUT YOUR SHAME AND EMBARRASSMENT AND THEN MAYBE ALSO FIND A WAY TO SEND THEM BAKED GOODS? THIS IS RIGHT, RIGHT?
I’ve either got my bosses’ flu or my other co-worker’s sinus infection or maybe just a case of pre-wedding planning / post-cleanse exhaustion. Whatever it is, I took myself to the doctor yesterday in hopes of getting ahead of whatever it is. I so rarely get sick at 1.) I’m a huge and overdramatic wimp about it and 2.) I have no idea how to deal with doctors. The nice purple haired doctor woman began by telling me that Western medicine is unreliable. She then sent me to Whole Foods with a shopping list including gut drops and immunity drops and whole pieces of ginger. She also suggested regular acupuncture and long deep sleeps. All of these sound lovely and I’m doing them but personally, I find the BEST cure to ANY ailment is to obsessively google your symptoms until you in fact feel worse. In doing so, I have stumbled across a diagnosis, which is also the best / worst LA thing I have ever heard. Apparently, during or after a cleanse, a person can experience what is called a HEALING CRISIS. I repeat, A CRISIS OF HEALING, in which a person becomes weakened by the bacteria dislodged in their body during a cleanse. And so, I PLEASE ASK FOR SUPPORT AND PRAYERS DURING THIS DIFFICULT HEALING CRISIS TIME.
We are currently trying to write our vows amidst the madness of where to sit who and who to sit where and which picture of what and how many of each and where to go when. So far we’ve got:
bride / groom: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!
Reverend: okay great, I now pronounce you –
bride / groom: EEEEEEEEEEEAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH (faint at same time)