I am an unmitigated, unrepentant, uncontrollably emotional person. I weep and laugh with great vigor, unembarrassed, much preferring to be the kind of person who is without walls, open to all the feelings and thoughts and expressions of others, empathic and empathetic to the point of actual physical response, rather than being cold and disconnected.
As if those two things were NOT ENOUGH each in and of themselves, today is the one year anniversary of my having stopped smoking! I made it a year. I really didn’t think I would. Congratulations, Charlie. Not only did I make it, but I weigh way less today than I did last year on this date and I am in training for a 150 mile, two day bike ride to Conquer Cancer (have you pledged me yet? CLICK HERE TO HELP! PLEASE?).
So, having a Tony Party. Of course, just me and C and D, and I have already prepped the food. It’s macaroni and cheese (C requested that) and shrimp and cheeses and a vegetable tray and chicken wings and — of course — A BEEF STICK. In my life, every special event for which junk food is allowed is ALLLLLLLL ABOUT THE BEEF STICK! And I am not even being a little bit metaphorical. I love meat. I love trashy by-products mixed with meat and shaped into things called “Summer Sausage”. I love those little Hickory Farms beef nugget-y things. I just can’t help it.
I will start weeping AS SOON as the Tony Awards begin, and I will be weeping and screaming and angry and passionate and full of regret about the life I didn’t make for myself and the life I did, and remembering past Tony parties — and the years lacking them, and — well, a lot of weeping. The Tony Awards are like the SUPERBOWL for Theatre Geeks. IN FACT — I’ve started a Twitter Hashtag: #TheatreGeekSuperbowl. You’re welcome. NOTHING IS BETTER THAN A BROADWAY MUSICAL — oh, read this, posted by Jason Robert Brown and Betty Buckley and ME on Twitter: YOU HATE MUSICALS BECAUSE YOU ARE DEAD INSIDE.
Which won’t even be the first time today. LOL. Friday night I went a little too all-out bacchanal even for me, and I was feeling a little pickled on Saturday, and so, for the first time since I started serious training, I didn’t gym or bike or anything else really. So, I knew I had to go to the gym today. I started watching the French Open, and when I was reasonably assured that Rafael Nadal was going to win, I headed to the gym to watch the end there while I did my hour on the elliptical.
When Rafa won and started weeping, guess what fool started doing his heave-hiccough-y-trying not to sob too openly- thing while on the elliptical? ME! Luckily, there was almost no one at the gym, so I wasn’t too much of a spectacle, just one guy — fairly good-looking — gave me the fisheye. But, turns out, my openly weeping must have turned him on — after I had finished my workout, I headed to the locker room and it was blessedly, delightfully empty, as was the sauna, so I could recline and not worry about anything — pretending it was my very own. Nice. Then fisheye guy followed me in. And hit on me.
2ndSundayInJune …. best day of the year.