it goes

Because of my schedule at work and its basic inflexibility, I've had to give up being in the show, something which I'm just sort of trying not to dwell upon too much. It's useless to do so, anyway.

But, one positive thought... I did renew an acquaintance which might, with a little luck and effort, expand a bit- an interesting girl who I first encountered in the young adult circle at church. During our few meetings before, I was reasonably sure she disliked me (moreso than the usual utter-lack-of-interest that I usually sense from casual interactions with people my age) but this seems as though it may not be the case. From some preliminary conversations, it sounds like we have some points of upbringing and tastes (classical music, music in general integrated with lifestyle, austere mode of living that isn't solely due to poverty) in common. I was not left, afterwards, feeling as though I had again exposed myself as a freak for having mentioned one or two genuine opinions, so it seems worthy of consideration for that point alone.

I suppose the most surprising moment came when we were talking about past roles we had played, and I told her about the last play at college, where I was Horatio to Eric's Hamlet. And she said it was one of her favorites, a great role, and that she at times had been Horatio for others, and had a few Horatios in her life as well. For all the discussions I've ever had about the play and the character, I had not heard someone say exactly that about themselves or others, except in my own thoughts, where I have alternately wondered and given up wondering why that is always the role I seem to play in my friendships, if they have the chance to grow at all deep. It may be as simple as ensuring that it is my giving that matters, so that I develop no dependence upon receiving or vulnerability to the inevitable withholding. I am envious of those who are able to grow confident of others' loyalty or commitment, at least while other factors make the friendship feasible, and I envied her briefly for saying she had been able to have it both ways. But maybe I could learn something from her.

The difficulty with interesting people is that they typically have no more room in their lives for newcomers who don't immediately serve any specific purpose, and I'm not the sort who can make more than one or two attempts to clear some space for myself on the off-chance that we might get along as friends. I don't mind setting aside my pride a little bit in order to take the first step, especially since I know from experience that no one will be doing it for me unless they are male (usually) and want something. Past a certain point, though, it's just embarrassing. I'm a little weary at the moment of being embarrassed in that way, written off, politely ignored. So I suppose we'll see.

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A little more human

Very gradually, and in small but encouraging ways, my situation seems to be improving (though in others which I can't yet talk about, it is worse.) I can't claim that hard work has paid off, because I've done nothing new to account for it- and I can't pretend to have been particularly patient because most nights in the past several months I've gone to bed worn out by dull despair- but luck has decided in my favor more than usual lately, and it is a very welcome change. I need to find something to do in order to express my gratitude for it, and will when my schedule settles a little more.

The first way is a silly thing: I've been cast after all in the chorus of the show for which I auditioned last month, and will start rehearsals next week. The strange, instant camaraderie of being a part of a cast, usually linked together by nothing more than a common purpose and interest, has always provided me with a sense of being included that I have rarely felt elsewhere (and too often in more casual social situations, it has been clear that there was no place for me, or role to play, no matter how willing I was or qualified to fill it.) I have undoubtedly been fortunate enough in the past to work with some wonderful people who found it a pleasure to welcome me rather than a burden, and I can't expect this always to be the case. But from what I've heard of this group, I might have that chance again. It's been almost four years since Hamlet, my last show- and now that I write that, I can't believe it. How can I possibly have made the series of choices necessary to deprive me of one of the things I love most in the world for four years? Honestly, I don't know.

The second way is a small thing, almost a nothing, but of significance to me: a few words from the man I consider to be my closest friend, even though months frequently go by between communications. Three, almost four months of this most recent silence. I worry for him sometimes nearly as much as I care about him, and so hearing that he is alive, well enough, and remembers me from time to time is a comfort.

The third way is almost purely practical, and I probably shouldn't even be as happy about it as I am, except I can't help it. Part of me really was afraid I might not find a place to live, at least not one where I would feel safe, or one that wouldn't be so expensive as to send me deeper into debt. But the place I found is beautiful, and shockingly cheap considering the size and location. I'll do my real rejoicing when the papers are all signed, but I will have a key tomorrow and a place to sleep that isn't borrowed or resented.

Simple things, but enough to renew my sense of hope and restore me a bit. Especially needed now.

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Why thanks

Every compliment received requires a quick assessment of the giver's personality (in situations where you can't just kiss them). Reciprocating in kind can backfire badly unless you practically have one stored up and waiting, ready to release. Humble denial of the virtue being complimented can seem coy or insincere, even if the denial is true. But denial is such an automatic reaction for some of us, and so widely misused by others, that simple acceptance can sometimes be tinged with a smugness it does not always deserve when the expected denial isn't heard.

And of course if you are a bit perverse, you keep all of this in mind, tailoring your compliments to throw your hapless target off-balance as much as you possibly can. And even so, you will find yourself occasionally disarmed, and wonder if the giver is simply better at the game than you, or perhaps a better sort of person altogether.

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working out some recent thoughts

The sameness of most days makes it difficult to separate them except by remembering the means (recently, almost always a novel or movie) by which I've temporarily escaped from the tedium. I find my concentration reliably unreliable, so that all attempts to read books that are better for me, such as the several on philosophy I've collected recently, have failed pretty badly. I manage about twenty pages with constant interruptions as my mind wanders, and then retain almost nothing of it. This has always been a bad sign for me, as it indicates a sort of soul-deep boredom that does not respond well to ordinary entertainment. The best cure is one I have been without for so long that I don't even remember how to earn it anymore. Or so it seems- I'm certain if I wanted it less... like most things... Being needed by someone in a particular sense that few other people would be able or willing to embody is the most fulfilling state I've ever experienced. But most people past and perhaps before a certain age understandably prefer to reserve that sort of intimacy for people in whom they're interested romantically. At least, I've always found that to be so, and I can't exactly fault it, disappointing as it's been to be set aside. Even as I express happiness for a friend who has found someone, I always dread the moment where I step back in order to give their new relationship room to develop. That's the only thing about which I ever find myself feeling real jealousy- when the right to be a confidante and friend is cast at the feet of a stranger simply because they happen to be attractive and on their very best behavior during the heady days of infatuation. It's a completely different matter when they earn it. And I suppose, if I were to pursue a romantic relationship with someone, I might find myself allowed into that position again, but that isn't the order in which it feels natural for me to take things even if it's the way most people do it. I mistrust certain types of hormones far too much, I guess, to want to be their undeserving beneficiary.

Even at a couple of dollars a bag, as I was able to get at the Squirrel Hill library sale a few weeks back, I'm burning through novels at a completely stupid rate. I'm not sure I don't have what could be considered a weak addiction to them. At this rate, my mind will never improve. That thought should scare me out of my escapism, but it only makes me panic a little and sends me deeper. Since I can't have what I really want, what exactly does it matter- or so my brain seems to reason. I am apparently not very well wired.

Tonight I tried a slightly different method of distraction, and auditioned for a show. My voice wasn't nearly what it should've been, and I'm almost positive I won't get any sort of role. No matter how relaxed I otherwise am (and I was, despite the complexity of just getting to the music hall tonight, in which I was helped immensely by a very patient Dad) certain physical reactions always bother me. Tonight, it was a completely dry mouth and throat, which affected my tone with hoarseness and a lack of consistent control. I did my best to make up for it with diction and volume, and happily did manage to fill the audition room a number of times with some nice sounds... just, I'm afraid, not enough of them to make me a real candidate. It's too bad, because I know I could do well with a couple of the parts, but consistency is everything, including my main weakness, so that is probably that. In either case, having something to work on was a pleasant change. I need more of those, but opportunities are few.

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