RandomCha

I have today off but i’m worried that with all the stuff I want to do today the whole day will just vanish without any enjoyment. I’m taking part in a reading tonight at Uncommon Grounds. Today is Jessi’s birthday but I don’t know what to get her. I’m thinking I’ll just stop by the theatre today and say hi rather than try to go to the gathering she’s having at that bar tonight. Plus I want to call the Film Center and spend some time browsing for jobs. I’m just going to try to relax. I’ve already had enough coffee for now.

I hear thunder outside. Looks like there might be a bit of a storm this morning. My laundry is in the drier and I’ve had a cup of coffee. My houseguest, Alfred, is asleep in the next room. We talked about going down to Michigan Avenue today and maybe seeing a museum. He wanted to do some shopping. But I guess we’ll hafta see about this rain.

This is my first real extended writing sitting at my desk in this new apartment. I think I’ll be able to be creative here. There’s a nice view out the window. Plenty of space in the room.

We saw “Undercover Brother” last night. Really funny, very likeable. I enjoyed it a lot. But I think I want to stop paying full price for movies for awhile.

That’s about all that’s on my mind right now. Alfred flies back to Denver tomorrow afternoon. Then Andy and I will have our first time alone together since the party last Friday. It went really well & was tons of fun, but somehow of course things are anti-climactic now. Now it’s just about two people living together, seeing each other every day, and the continuing relationship. But it’s the quiet, steady days of building a life together that make a relationship solid.

The sunrise looks great in the new apartment. Andy is still sleeping. I feel great this morning.

Bought “Nashville Skyline” by Bob Dylan. It’s a very good album but frustratingly SHORT. Not even half an hour long. The songs sound really nice. But it feels like just as they get going, they end. It’s pretty funny listening to Dylan and Johnny Cash trying to harmonize on their duet. You could put this album on the same CD with “California Bloodlines” by John Stewart. They’d both fit. They were recorded at the same time in Nashville in studios that were across the street from each other, and several of the same studio musicians play on both albums.

Cooler than normal again this weekend and rainy. Looking forward to Steven’s dinner party tomorrow night. He’s making Moroccan food. I’m bringing my album of early 60’s mid-eastern pop. Maybe wine & pastry. Andy & I are going to see “Time Out” tonight. Dinner. I can’t wait till he moves out of that apartment so there won’t be anymore stupid discussions about who’s going to spend the night where & who will be going to who’s place.

I tried taking a little nap but I couldn’t really fall asleep. I was itchy from the haircut that I got after work. Packing stuff up isn’t much fun but I guess I’ve already gotten a lot out of the way. Excited about DSL in the new place!

We did it! It’s finally done! We went downtown this afternoon and Andy & I signed the lease on a 2-bedroom apartment, the one we saw near Sheridan and Belmont. It could have been more hellish than it was, but it was hellish enough. Today is exactly 2 weeks after we filled out our application. I thought we would never get approved. It was only after faxing them Andy’s mutual fund statements and a signed statement by Elizabeth telling them how much I made in tips that they finally relented. Like she told me, “They’ll make you jump through hoops, but you’ll get the apartment.”

After the signing I told Andy we should get a drink somewhere to celebrate. It was about 2.30 in the afternoon. He said, umm, something non-alcoholic would be fine. I wanted to go to Trader Vic’s, but it wasn’t open yet. So we went next door to the Downtown Bar & Restaurant. I got a whiskey & coke and Andy just got a coke. I paid the bartender $11 and then Andy and I toasted. I got very sleepy. We talked about various details and then took the el back north. I went home and took a long nap.

Boy, lots of stress is gone. Sure there’s plenty of stuff to do now, but the uncertainty is gone. I’ll get cracking on the details tomorrow. Might actually make a list. May 1st is in exactly two weeks. Nice symmetry: we decided on the place 2 weeks ago, and in 2 weeks we’ll be moving Andy in. I’ll move in on May 8th.

What can I say? Andy gave me a Dawn Powell book for our anniversary on Monday. I started it today and it’s amazing. It’s a damn shame she didn’t get the recognition she deserved while she was alive. I’m listening to “Cachaito,” this album by the bass player from the Buena Vista Social Club. Been listening to it every day since I got it on Saturday. Amazing stuff. Grooves. Saw “Belle de Jour” last night at the Film Center with Steven. That film shows me something new each time I see it. I felt a real kinship with “Eyes Wide Shut” seeing it this time that I never noticed before. Steven really enjoyed it too. The discussion afterwards barely scratched the surface.

Sometimes it just doesn’t seem feasible to summarize everything that’s going on. So I guess I won’t. I ought to try to write more often. Andy really liked the poem I composed for him, and I really liked the card that he write for me. We both almost cried. You can’t ask for much more poignancy after 2 years with someone.

Work at 7.30 tomorrow morning … tonight it’s pepperoni pizza & “The Bad And The Beautiful.” Almost rented “Paris Blues” but I changed my mind. Some other time.
Outside it’s cool & drizzly, like some cliched vision of nighttime London only a lot more banal. We leave for a week in Seattle on Friday. Andy is really excited. Me too. Except then I think about all the spam that’s going to be piling up while I’m gone. Heheh. Just kidding.

Whatever my next apartment is, it better have a bigger kitchen sink than the one I’ve got now. It’s ridiculous. I find myself reluctant to cook Cream of Wheat (which I love) on the stove because of the necessary pot-scrubbing involved. And that’s just silly.

Day off today. Decided to take the train way north and check out that new coffeehouse in Rogers Park, Scenes Cafe. A big, empty, but comfy place. I had some Earl Grey. And then I sat for about 3 hours and finished reading the Bud Powell book written by Francis Paudras. It really shattered me. I felt solemn and melancholy as I turned the last page and put it in my backpack. Luckily I had brought my Discman with me & I started playing “The Amazing Bud Powell: Volume 2.” My sadness faded away and the sheer beauty of his music made me feel all right once again. I listened to it as I walked back to the el. So he’s not dead after all.

But the book makes me curious about Francis himself. He committed suicide in 1997. It makes me want to know more about what led up to that. All these people passing, these giants. And who are the giants of my generation? Do they really compare? I know I’m not the only one to feel out of my time.

I don’t know what book to read next. I think maybe I should take a breather for a few days. Not sure what to do with myself tonight. Rent a movie? I don’t feel like writing more.

Well, Jessi’s play last night wasn’t as good as I had wanted it to be. As always, her staging was impeccable. Flawless, really. She always manages to divide up the space and use it in the most ingenious ways: a pay phone and a blackboard next to each other against a wall, hidden or in view at certain times, and a lot of the action taking place on a raised platform in the middle of the space. And the actors did their best.

But the script was flawed. It had an interesting structure of breaking the narrative into little vignettes which were arranged so that things were continually skipping back and forth in time. But this only tried to conceal the fact that, for the most part, what happened was predictable. A female teacher takes a promising student under her wings, tutors him in the blues, and then they cross over the line and begin an affair. This leads to obsession on the part of the teacher, disillusionment on the part of the boy, and condemnation by everyone else. She ends up in prison, and he ends up on the road to begin his musical career. And in between we get to hear everyone’s opinion on what happened, including some jibes at the media.

Jenny McKnight as the teacher really does her best in a difficult role … as her obsession takes her away from reality, I was at least able to maintain a bit of sympathy for her desperation. And Geoff Rice as the student played a 16-year old with all the cliches intact but believable (cliches which are all true in real life: how a teenager can both know it all while hungering for answers). What the play was missing was real blues spirit. There wasn’t really any soul. Perhaps it was the all-white cast. I guess that could have been one of the points of the script: all these white folks in small town Minnesota think they got soul when they don’t. The show excelled during the disturbing moments: the first kiss, the confrontations with the teacher’s husband, their break up, later incarceration, etc. Moments right out of the Mary Kay LeTourneau case which do raise some disturbing questions. But I just wasn’t moved.

Jessi herself chose this play and I can’t help but wonder why. I think she wanted the challenge of doing all that onstage music. I know this must have been a hard show to cast. Was she distracted with other things going on? These pyrrhic victories are a shame. If only she could get a really great play & sink her chops into it, show her stuff. A play that’s already great instead of one whose flaws need to be overcome by her directorial gifts.

She looked great in her tux last night; I almost didn’t recognize her when I first saw her because it was so slick. I’m glad that Sharon could go with me last night. It was great to finally introduce Jessi and Sharon to each other. In April I’m going to go over to Sharon’s with “Kosher Messiah” and show it to both to her and Logan. Sharon told me that Logan just got a gig as co-director of the Chicago Gay & Lesbian Film Festival! Wowee!

It’s really just great to finally have a day off again. Today is my Saturday. I’m not sure what I’m up to. I’d like to just spend a lot of time reading today. I’m still reading “Borderliners” and I want to finish that up so I can move onto something else. The book has a curiously detached feel to it, though it’s entertaining enough. It’s still slow going somehow. Damn it, these two days will go by too fast. I wonder what Andy wants to do.

Friends! A friend is wonderful.

Ugh. I have today off, and that’s a good thing. And I’ve already been ‘productive’ this morning. Sent out some emails and went through some more submissions for bowwow. But now I’m stuck thinking about my book. I don’t know what to do about it. I don’t know if there’s anything to do right now. I feel like I’m procrastinating, like I should already have a clear-cut step-by-step plan for what to do next. Self-publishing? Find an agent? I don’t know. So i’m just kind of brooding over it. But I don’t think I’ll do anything about that today.

The Ellington trio version of “Lotus Blossom” from 1967 is just so wonderful. It’s on “And His Mother Called Him Bill …” which I bought a few days ago. I’ve been listening to it on repeat for a big part of the morning. It’s heartbreakingly lovely. I had it playing & tried to write something but I couldn’t write anything good. My day off, pumped up on coffee, and writer’s block. Just that kind of morning.

I’m awfully glad to have the day off. I think Andy & I are going to see “Storytelling” tonight. It’s gotten some very nasty, very PERSONAL reviews, ones really raging hard against poor Todd S. Ray Pride’s review in New City ends like this: “Fuck Todd Solondz.” That makes me want to see it more. There’s something about a film that ticks off lots of critics all at once that can be really galvanizing.

Still in pyjamas. It’s worth it to get up early & get stuff done & then have empty time at 10 in the morning. I think it’s supposed to be fairly warm today. Can’t really explain it, but why do I have this topsy-turvy feeling? It’s been around for a week maybe. Why this half-hearted angst coupled with a vaguely ethereal POV?