« July 2004 | Main | September 2004 »

August 30, 2004

there's something about a sunrise.

it's 730 sunday morning. we're lying on a too-small futon, listening to a rooster crowing in the chicago suburbs.

I can't remember the last time I woke up before noon on a weekend, let alone awakening before noon to find myself all smooshed up, beltbuckle to backpocket with an adorable someone.

something about the way the sun is shining, the way we smell of beer and cigarettes and sleep, the way my shoulders ache from sleeping on an uncomfortable pillow - this all gives me a not-unpleasant jolt of nostalgia for those mornings after parties at my frat in college, where we'd all eventually straggle into the party room and half-heartedly clean up the junk from the night before and watch cartoons and gossip about who did what to whom the night before.

except, this sunday, we hadn't. done what to whom. we just slept and rolled over and slept some more. and when the rooster decided we were done sleeping, we talked. about him. about me. about washington dc and normal illinois. about the past, while carefully avoiding the present and the future.

and, oh my god. ouch.

I'm sure he wondered why I was quiet and kind of distant at breakfast, and then on the train back from the suburbs. and I'll tell you. . . I was busy trying to keep my shit together. I finally realized what sucked about staying friends. what sucked about unrequited . . . no . . . semi-requited . . . er . . . something. Three hours after the sun rose that morning, I felt like we were closer than we really should be, for two rebounding emotionally unavailable adults who need attention but aren't really ready for involvement. and I couldn't take anything back without losing something we both gained.

I'm not sure exactly when it'll happen, but when I stop calling him as often as I used to, stop writing a dozen times a day, stop agreeing to meet him for drinks after work, he'll probably think it's because I stopped liking him. or because I started becoming more serious about one of the guys I've been dating on the nights we don't talk.

"thank god we didn't date . . . I like her too much to hurt her" he'll tell himself.

he's been telling himself that all along. I know, I've been there. I've given myself that line dozens of times. and believed it each time, to the point of being pissed off at the other guy for not understanding that by withholding I was "helping".

but I'm on the other side again, the hurting side of the equation. the thing is, I'm finally realizing that it's not dating that hurts. or even the breakup. it's the glimpse of the possibility that hurts. sitting on that couch at 10 in the morning, after too many beers and not enough sleep and way too much proximity, I didn't have the energy to not see what i've been struggling not to see.

I thought I understood impossible affairs, unrequited love. but I had no idea.

and on top of it all, I was worried that this is upsetting and painful because he said "no" - but that's not the problem.

the problem isn't that he said no. No, I can take. I can work with No.

it's that, in so many words, he said: "Maybe."

Posted by Heather at 05:10 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack

talking barbies with the freaks.

okay, my new friend is a barbie freak. and I love her for it.

but when she sent me links to the barbie collector's site I nearly died.

we now enter a totally self-serving IM conversation, already in progress. (names have been changed to mock and preserve the innocent)

barbie freak: link

other kind of freak: (silence)

barbie freak: Do you not hear "Flight of the Valkries" playing?!

other kind of freak: the sad thing is, if there were a barbie opera, no one would be able to tell if it were over. . .

barbie freak: ha ha ha ha ha!

barbie freak: I have an opera barbie, too. well, I dressed her and named her opera barbie.

other kind of freak: but at least she's "independent and powerful"!!!!

barbie freak: shut up! again, I didn't read it...

barbie freak: now, how is she going to do any warring or seafaring in that skirt?

other kind of freak: seriously! the blood would TOTALLY stain.

barbie freak : I know! And it's hard to run, I would imagine.

Posted by Heather at 09:00 AM | Comments (3) | TrackBack

August 26, 2004

the outline, with no filler...

so, spent the last week out in andersonville, housesitting the incredibly cool apt of the incredibly cool Tiff and Duane.

which meant I had a lot of precious alone time with their punk rock tattoo'd cat, Stan, and the nameless mice (who have names, but not ones I can remember. I called them 'the black one' and 'the white one' and, as they didn't complain about racism, I think it's okay).

what else did I do, instead of write on picturepicture.net?

hmm.

• I fought with my friend, in the guise of 'helping him recover from his recent breakup.' fighting is a good distraction, I think. better than going over the bullshit of 'what did I do wrong' and 'what is wrong with me' and 'I hate her for doing this to me' and all that.

• I muse-d half of a TOTALLY VIABLE but FRUSTRATINGLY UNFINISHED SCRIPT out of the director/writer by getting him drunk and taking notes.

• and, totally out of the blue, I got another un-solicited affirmation that I wasn't the crazy one in my last relationship. the details are boring, but I can say that just because you love someone doesn't mean you want to (or have to) pee with the bathroom door open. in fact, not sharing your minor excretory habits can be its own way of saying "I Love You."

• arranged a second date with #3 from last week's list, and it went very well, despite my babbling and his cat allergies...in fact, I think we'll be arranging a third date, very soon.

• fell in and out of love, twice.

• landed an audition for a position as 'vocal talent' for a local studio.

• I sat on the back balcony with a beer, a book, and Stan and watched the air and water show, which is way more fun when you're not battling the crowds on the lakefront.

• read the newest script by the makers of Buttleman and although I am not at liberty to describe the story, I think I'm well within my rights to say that I can't wait to see the film.

• met a damned cute fella who played keyboards for Yes (who?) and Meatloaf (what?). and who lives way way too far away, in that square mile he lives in, on the east coast. curse the coasts from being so damned far from my inland sea!!!
  

so, that's the long and the short of my week. what did you do?

Posted by Heather at 03:48 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

August 24, 2004

Frankie and Johnny. . .

Went to see Frankie and Johnny in the Clair de Lune last weekend. And was completely blown away. The play asks the question of romantic love: "Why is it so crazy to believe in....to invest in.... to even confess to.... Love at First Sight?"

Obviously, this is a subject that is near and dear to my heart.

completely unexpectedly, I found another reference to love at first sight in my commute-reading this morning, Alain de Botton's near-novel On Love

"To speak of love after we had barely spent a morning together was to encounter charges of romantic delusion and semantic inaccuracy. Yet we can only ever fall in love without knowing whom we have fallen in love with. "

I've come to terms with this struggle in my life, of embracing the bright feelings of new acquaintance as love while maintaining a respect for long-term friendships as the same love, with conscious choice and time layered on top of that first rush of joy and excitement and attraction and opportunity.

I wanted to believe that love was only possible with that weird impossible fiction that makes use words like 'soul-mate' and 'fate'. and my absolutely lovely friends who have seen me through my relationship ups and downs are all over the map on love - from "there's only one love, with one soul-mate, and every other love you feel is a joke in comparison" to "you choose who you want to be with, and it may or may not work out, it's all about work' and everything in between.

I'm not currently in love, myself. haven't been there for what seems like forever.

but I'm thinking about the topic constantly now. and reading about it. and seeing plays about it. and writing about it. wonder if I'll experience it anytime soon, or if this is the extent of my dabblings, this fall?

of course, as always, I'll let you know.

Posted by Heather at 03:49 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack

August 20, 2004

Tying Up Loose Ends: Draft One.

excerpts from actual e-mails in my eudora outbox.

that i haven't sent. for whatever reason.

god knows why I don't send them. it's not like I can't talk to these people....

1) I confess I did want to date the guy I thought you were. I fell fast and hard and fell out just as fast, just as hard. it's what I do. We had a great time. but we're friends now, and you just gotta get over yourself and know that when I call you up and bitch about my love life, you're supposed to listen and mock me into my normal cheerful state. Don't take me seriously, don't take it personally, don't throw it back in my face...You of all people should know that I gleefully (and regularly) put myself out there with hope and an open heart (and mind) and it's not surprising that I'd be gun shy right now. Dude. Be a Pal. Humor me. And trust that when I go for the hug at the end of the night, I won't try to stick my tongue down your throat.

2) okay, mister. you're incommunicado, all the way the hell out there in L.A. but fuck. I have got to say, it's kinda bringing me down that we left things SO unfinished when you left. I've called. I've written. I've emailed. I miss you. there. I said it. I miss the hell out of you. if you were here, you'd know exactly how much I've missed you. so. there. the stalking is over, continue with regularly scheduled friendship patterns.

3) I hardly know you, and at the same time, I've known you for nearly 20 years. There's a connection that can't be explained, a logic behind the friendship, but I wonder how often we'll have to hit flint to steel before we truly "spark"? what do you think, doll? shall we keep trying, or should we defer to the habits of an old friendship and find our flames elsewhere?

4) Listen - when I do a thousand dollar's worth of web work for your company and send you an invoice, the next step is YOU sending ME A CHEQUE, you FUCKING FUCK!!! Declaring a loss is NOT the same thing as BEING PAID.

5) ok, you seem perfect for me in a zillion ways, hon. You're tall, cute, a snappy dresser, creative, self-employed, well-versed in popular culture and unafraid of a quick-witted woman with great tits. You lisp like a sissy but snog like a gigolo. you call me sweetie and, well, I like it. but there's a calculated distance that, for once, I'm not calculating. I wish I cared enough to be compelled by the unavailability, to be sitting by the phone, waiting for your call, but I'm sorry to say I'm just happy to hear from you when schedule permits, and otherwise I seem find myself occupied with other things....

6) saw you on the morning news yesterday. scary, that you'd gotten out of bed before dawn for that silliness. you really need new representation, hon - if I were your PR lady, you would have brought eye-catching merchandise that actually showcases what your shop has to offer, not just the lightweight shit you can pick up yourself...and I would NEVER have let you babble for 2 whole minutes about the most boring sign on the planet when you have dozens of gorgeous windows and mantels and historically significant sullivan pieces to hawk. sheesh.

Posted by Heather at 12:27 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack

August 19, 2004

My New Filing Technique Is Unstoppable

I can't stop laughing at this. no. seriously. it's Hilarious.

Posted by Heather at 11:13 PM | TrackBack

August 16, 2004

totally trivial entry from the music theatre geek.

okay. I've listened to this soundtrack 20 times since I bought it two weeks ago.

and I can't stop listening. because, as we've established, I'm a gaylord.

I'm just sick about having missed it in Chicago, I guess I'll have to catch Avenue Q when it opens in vegas, eh?

anyone want to join me?

Posted by Heather at 10:42 AM | Comments (2) | TrackBack

August 12, 2004

Under the Utilikilt.

So, I went to market days last weekend. with my lovely and talented friend Dom.

We'd spent the day before at the Indiefest Film Market, exhausting ourselves with Buttleman networking, and decided to reward ourselves with an afternoon of peoplewatching, drag-queen baiting, pina colada-filled pineapples....all the essentials for a gay old time, actually.

anyway, we stop at the Utilikilt stand, and I'm sitting on the ground, taking pictures of Dom in a kilt (to send to his girlfriend - hopefully, she'll buy him one for xmas!) and out of nowhere comes this blond adonis, wearing nothing but a kilt and leather flip-flops. (he had that gorgeous stomach, with those amazing hip countours that serve to draw all attention centrally downward...oh goodnesss...)

I must have started drooling, because Dom gave me this look that could only be interpreted as "oh honey. you look like you want to tear his kilt off with your teeth."

and it was all I could do, to not crawl over and do just that....a few deep breaths and I stood up, went over, and told him how great he looked in olive green pleats....

yes, he was straight. and yes, he took my phone number. I'll let you know if I take the high road and chip a tooth on his hipbones...or if I take the low road road and just reach under....either way, I'll get to scotland before ye...

< growl >

Posted by Heather at 10:41 PM | Comments (2) | TrackBack

Oh Dear Christ I Shouldn't Wear Makeup

I went to a mary kay party and all I got were these crows' feet.

I thought makeup was supposed to make you look younger. or something.

yeah, I went to a hard-selling mary kay party at my 6th grade piano teacher's house. had a good time, despite the fact that the lipstick tastes, like, icky and the foundation is so thick you can't see my freckles.... but the other gals were great. and silly.

you gotta be silly when applying so many unguents to your face - after the 6th product, I felt like a bagel-with-schmear.

but, again, the gals were hilarious.

Posted by Heather at 10:28 PM | Comments (3) | TrackBack

Welcome to my world.

Blondie has finally joined the world of the bloggers.

She's hilarious in person, and her photo is totally adorable. she looks JUST LIKE THAT! but with bigger boobs.

(entry revised because blondie moved from blogging to livejournaling- fickle woman!)

Posted by Heather at 08:45 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

August 10, 2004

this is why people read their horoscopes.

Here is your horoscope
for Tuesday, August 10:

Physical attraction will be almost overwhelming -- and you should expect the feeling to be quite mutual. You may be up quite late, but rest assured that it will be for only the most delicious of reasons.

it's like I wrote it myself.

Posted by Heather at 08:13 AM | TrackBack

August 04, 2004

buttleman: the review. Yes, of course there may be spoilers. Deal with it - you should have already seen the film by now.

I've been enthusiastically supporting Buttleman for the last year now. I have been all "hey! it has Karen Black and Dan Castellaneta and Steve Falk and John Hawkes and Pamela Ribon and woah nelly, it's just got to be a great time! And I've been terribly excited about the project, without ever having seen the movie.

of course, I'm having a weird unrelated meta media moment here, because I'm sitting at my desk in a bizarre underwear/pyjama outfit, eating a popsicle and typing on my new laptop while I ask myself (a la carrie bradshaw):

"How can I so soundly support a film that I haven't experienced?"

I wish this answer had a hot sex maniac, a pragmatic lawyer, and a starry eyed romantic to keep this little writer company, tho, because it would then probably be more interesting (and, perhaps, more marketable) than the real story.

or maybe not. I'll pick up a pair of manolos and tell ya how it works for me.

anyway, I enthusiastically championed Buttleman, without even so much as READING A COPY OF THE SCRIPT, because I very much want Frank to succeed. Because his strong personality, his gawky confidence, his enthusiastically funny and poignant and honest storytelling all appeal to me in a way that I can't quite separate from my love for him, as my closest highschool pal.

My personal involvement with the director, as an old friend and former co-consipirator compells me to spur him on. I want to believe that Buttleman is a great film and that the time and money and effort and love and hope that everyone has invested is well-met with whatever it is that each person hoped to get out of their investment.

I want to know that someone who believes in himself, in his own talent, in his future is someone who will gain the respect and career that he deserves.

And so, I am delighted that I so thoroughly enjoyed the film when I saw it on Saturday that I can't keep myself from jumping up and down with the knowledge that it is just as good as I hoped for, in exactly the areas that I expected.

Yes, the art direction and editing and visual language of the film are a little rough...I found myself wondering, at times, if we were watching through Harold Buttleman's camera or through the forth wall or through the eyes of another character...there's a sequence with a dog and a neck brace that I just can't reconcile with the rest of the movie....but damn, the dog is cute…

But the direction, the story, the dialogue, and the acting...oh, and the theme song (three versions of which are running through my head right now)...the warmth and sadness of the film totally yanked me past all that.

oh my god.

I'm truly impressed with the gestures in this film...yes, I know I laugh at weird things, like how Harold (Hawkes) wears gardening gloves and his sister's helmet for safety...like the mention of a “Door County Fish Boil”…

...Doug's (Falk) excitement at getting a chance at cable - ("kick ass!") - when he gestures in that hilariously reflective "actor being a non-actor on camera" in the early morning stunt scene, when he talks about how Harold hurt his sister... (yes, I know, it's "his character' - you know what I mean) he is just so amazing I wanted to get up and hug Frank for making that performance possible.

and man, seeing John Hawkes as Harold Buttleman - ... dude. seriously. His performance is genius. I don't know how to say it without being 'girl from the director’s hometown who just wants him to succeed like he deserves"...I just can't escape the fact that sincerity is tainted with gaylordian self consciousness.... but i really gotta say : I'm proud of you, Frank.

If anyone had asked me, before I saw the film, what it's all about, I'd have told them it was about a small town tuxedo salesman who enthusiastically corrals his friends into helping him attempt to achieve his doomed dream of being the next Evel Knievel.

And that is one way of reading the film. but wait, there's more.

The tragedy of Buttleman - the BRILLIANT TRAGEDY - is that despite all his passion and eager enthusiasm, despite the support of his friends and tough-love support of his family, Harold Buttleman isn't Evel Knievel. He's a guy who can really make things happen - but he picked the wrong thing.

The movie is about the very thing that I've been struggling with, as a creative soul who chose to work for money rather than her art, and failed anyway... How do you know if the direction you've chosen for yourself is the right direction (but you just haven't yet gotten to your successful destination) or if it's just the wrong road entirely?

Heck, most of my "Arty Actorson" friends have struggled with all this.

Your friends can't really tell you if you're right or wrong, can they? Your parents can only be expected to let you mooch out of their basement for so long before they get fed up, right? Hell, what if your investment in the illusion of your future is so complete, you have nothing left to give to your relationships (both romantic and platonic)?

The genius behind the film is that, despite every single dorky wrong-headed thing Harold does, I'm on his side. I want him to win, and I want his coattails to be strong enough to hold everyone who ever helped him out.

Yeah.

Okay, it's pretty obvious that I love Frank, that I want him to do well and that I am so very very proud of him for following his dreams and for being the writer/ director that I've always thought he should be. So, anyway. Yay Frank. You inspire me. First step: to choose what the hell I want to be when I grow up. I can only hope that, like you, I'm right when I finally decide.

and kids, remember: Stay In School.

Posted by Heather at 10:21 PM | Comments (4) | TrackBack

August 03, 2004

someone get this gal a cold shower.

it's only 9:00 and already the day is shaping up to be awesome.

three reasons, so far:

1) anticipating the dinner tonight with Frank, Dom, and the real, live, Harold Buttleman.

2) my new laptop. (photos coming soon)

3) penn jillette reads from his new novel: Sock

Posted by Heather at 09:11 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

August 02, 2004

Buttleman: The High School Reunion

went to see Buttleman, as promised. as did, like, 20% of the (terribly good looking) people I hung out with in high school.

the inevitable party that followed was amazing. enlightening. embarrassing. and cool.

I'd write more, but as of this afternoon I've gotten about 9 hours of sleep out of the last 72 hours, and putting together sentences to describe the events would be, well, futile.

more to come, on buttleman, high school, and sleeplessness, I promise.

oh, and: my laptop arrived today! huzzah!

Posted by Heather at 06:52 AM | Comments (2) | TrackBack