The first day of the rest of my life

I have avoided being a blogger for the past ten years. Well, actually, I am not quite sure that blogs existed when I was twelve, but if they did, I have been avoiding them.

To be honest, really honest, I did have another blog before. Maybe someday I'll provide the link to it here, but I'd rather my past remain a secret for now. This blog is about the future--my future--one day at a time.

I just graduated from college a little over a month ago. I don't know how it feels yet. Right now it feels like summer.

I have a B.A. in Creative Writing. I think that means I have nothing. But people always seem to nod in half admiration half "what the fuck are you going to do now?"

I am working at a theater for play development in CT. Apparently it is a big deal kind of place, because musicals like Avenue Q were first developed here, and Tracy Letts brings his behind around one in awhile, and legend has it that Michael Douglas use to cut the grass on the rolling hills that surround the campus of the theater.

To me, it is just like one big summer camp for theater freaks---A place where adults who never want to really grow up can come and re-live their youth over and over and over again until they are convinced they are 20 years old again, having their first homosexual experience in the back of a 69' Chevy with the captain of the football team.

Did I mention EVERY MAN here is a friend of dorthy?

I think it is quite good for me to be around so many openly gay people. I have always been told that I am color blind because I grew up in such a diverse neighborhood. Now, I am going to be come sexually orientation blind, or at least have a better frame of reference when trying to understand and support the people in my own inner circle who find them selves batting for the other team.

I wish I knew how it felt. Is that weird? I try so hard sometimes to just try and see how it would feel for one day if I knew I was going to be with a woman for the rest of my life. I think I could be a lesbian if it meant I could still really love men. But that's not what it means, and so I digress.

Personally, I believe that no one should have any preferences. We are all humans who need to be touched and loved, but I suppose we can not help who we love.

I mean in theory, it makes sense that we should just all be left to our own devises and live in little love huts and love men and women equally, but this isn't actaully going to happen, and most people actually do have a preference. Including myself.

I prefer pineapples.

Anyway, anyway, life here has been interesting.

My office is the little elixir of hope and existence up on the third floor of the Mansion. The literary office.

My boss is Martin. Perhaps one of the most charming people I have met in quite sometime. He is quite intelligent, and yet he keeps alot of it under the brim of his hat. What is most exciting about him is his open mindedness. He really is concious of cultural differences, and speaks elequently and with a thread of equality in his thoughts.


John , Martin's right hand man, is a perfect angel of a person. John just finised grad school a Iowa University, studying dramaturgy. That means John studies life. He knows everything. I think so anyway. And when you feel bad, he looks you in the eye and tells you it's going to be ok and you believe him.

John is dating a lovely man named Sam Hunter whom he talks about with such spark and glitter that it makes me believe in love again. Sam is John's "mountain man."

Heather is our office cordinator. Heather is warm, a little spark about to burst with the slighest ignition, something one might not notice right away under her shy exterior. She is brilliant, and different, and everything that the world should probably be, they just don't know it yet.

I don't think she knows it either.


Then there are our interns. My fellow interns. Michael, Alex, Andrew and Walter.


Alex is my lost twin soul. She looks like Lindsey Lohan and has the humor of Lucille Ball. Yeah, Yeah, she has red hair. You would want to date her if you knew her.

*~*

Last night, the entire theater staff had a bonfire. On the beach. A bunch of young people, and some not so young people, mostly beautiful young women and fabulously gay men, standing around a pit of fire that had been burning because of the technical directors ease in re-applying wood when necessary. Those techies, so good to have around.


I found myself talking a lot with some man who is apparently famous? I dunno, I talked to him cause he spent some time in Providence, and I really miss it.

Anyway, we took a walk and talked about the threshold of happiness.

What is it that makes someone happy? Is it reaching their goal, doing what they always planned to do, or being with someone that they can not breathe without, that feeling being returned indefinitely.


Hmm.

I was intrigued by this person. I was intrigued, most likely, because he has lived in the real world for 10 years, and I am just a hatch ling to the jungle.

Maybe when he said cosmically that we were all the same age, or having an old soul was not a bad thing. or that older people were simply scared of what the younger people were going to do.

or maybe because he's made it some way, and he's still able to be real, take off his expensive leather shoes, and walk in the sand.

Something about him put me at peace, that there were people who "got it"...whatever "it" is.


I don't think I mind famous people. or people who could be famous.

I think they are just searching.


I'm always searching.