I had many plans for the evening. Since last Friday, I’ve been waiting for tonight, because I was going to GO TO KARAOKE with my friend John. This was going to be my reward for making it through THREE WHOLE DAYS OF THE WEEK already, the chance to watch some karaoke and escape life as I know it, and have fun and hear John sing. Unbiased bystanders have told me that John has a very good voice, and so that was going to be a bonus. Plus he’s fun to talk to, and a very nice fellow. ESCAPE FROM MY REALITY FOR A WHILE, that’s all I was looking for.
So, then, why is it now 10:11 p.m. and I’m sitting here all by myself up in my bedroom?
Because I’m very very lame. I had a somewhat busy day today, but not too taxing. Gave a few massages, then worked out for a while. I didn’t do as much working out as I could have done, mind you, just a fairly easy half hour on the treadmill. Taking it easy, that’s what I thought I was doing.
But then I got home and showered and ate dinner and slipped into my favorite very soft black sweats and I thought…I’m not going anywhere. It’s too cold outside, I’m tired, I can’t get up out of my chair, much less drive all the way across town.
I’m bitterly disappointed in myself, but at least it isn’t the first time, so it’s not a big shock. But I feel bad that I let John down, too, although I’m sure he didn’t have as much hope and promise of FLEEING REALITY pinned on the evening as I did. But still, I said I was going, and then I didn’t. Bad, bad me.
So this is kind of, um…not payback, not retribution – atonement? That’s a fine, sort of religious-type word. Atoning for my sin of standing John up? But instead of making it up to John (WHICH I PROMISE I WILL DO VERY SOON), I’m making it up by doing this for Kate.
Tonight I’ve writing a little, nothing that has involved too much thought, and I was ready to settle into my book “a walk across france,” which I’m reading for the second time. It’s an OK book, not fabulous. I bought it in LA a while ago, I guess because the idea of a Big Walk has always appealed to me. And now I’ve been seriously contemplating a Big Walk of my own, with my friend Erica, maybe this summer. She mentioned walking across England, and I’m all for it, except there are plenty of things to get in the way, mostly financial pitfalls for me, personally.
But the book is kind of entertaining and I know that at some point in my life, maybe in the not-too-distant future, I WILL take some Big Walk somewhere. If not this summer, then next. And in the meantime, I can read about somebody else’s journey.
That was my plan anyway, to read my book and go to bed very early, maybe by 10:30. Because I’m VERY TIRED.
But I got an e-mail from my friend Kate tonight, who said she’s become ADDICTED to reading my site, and then she said, “Write, damn you, write!!!” That was a very nice thing to hear, but also slightly burdensome, the pressure is on.
And, as I mentioned, because I was so very very slovenly and lazy and too tired to go see John sing karaoke, I thought that the least I could do was write something.
For Kate.
Whew, that was a long explanation, wasn’t it? Ah, now I remember what I wanted to tell you about – other things I did over the weekend, besides the church fiasco (Kate said she’d take me to her Catholic church anytime if I want, but I feel I need a little rest from churching).
Friday night, I had a most excellent time. I went to see a high school production of “You Can’t Take it With You,” the play I was just in (with Kate, directed by John). She and John and Steve and I piled into her nice big van and headed for Pawnee. I’ve ridden in Kate’s nice big van before, but clearly, she was going all out Friday night, because it had been recently cleaned. My car is usually littered with things that are vital to life as I know it (mostly many empty water bottles and pens that don’t write), and Kate’s van was kind of like that.
But for a special night in Pawnee, she had it cleaned. Very impressive.
The ride to Pawnee was breathtaking, as you might imagine. Right down I-55 we went, chatting about how we’d ever find the high school in Pawnee. I suddenly remembered that I had a friend who lived in Pawnee, Mike. I’d been to his house a few times, so I figured the trip would be a breeze.
It was, until we got into Pawnee and then didn’t know where to go. We could have driven around for a while, since it’s not a very big town, but we didn’t have a lot of time till the curtain rose. So we pulled into the Casey’s gas station, which was bustling with activity, and asked for directions. The very friendly gentleman who Kate asked was very friendly, but also not used to giving such complicated directions. “You go down this street…here?” He waved at the street in front of us, in case we couldn’t see it. “ And you keep going, and you go past a bunch of…roads? And then you keep going till you get to, ah, a sign…for a school? And then you, ah…make a left turn, and…there you are.” But it took him a lot longer to say it than that, and he made it seem incredibly complicated, when it was just a matter of driving down the street and turning left.
Somehow we found it. When we got there, some of the students milling around asked us if we’d been in the show in Springfield – many of them had gone to see our production. Kate and I felt like celebrities, naturally.
I purchased a ticket for five dollars, and asked for my ticket, but the girl who sold it to me was also the one who collected the tickets, so she just showed me what it looked like and then took it back. Not a problem, except for what transpired after that.
We all had our tickets, I stopped in the bathroom and joined my friends a few minutes later. We settled in our seats. The place was PACKED and we all wished we’d had as many people at our show. But then again, it was mostly packed with Pawnee students.
After a few minutes, at least three people hurried up to us. “Did you give your ticket to the usher?” one of them asked me. “No, the girl who sold it to me wouldn’t let me actually take it,” I replied. There was a bit of conferring amongst the group, and then they let me be. For a moment there, I thought they were going to arrest me, or throw me out. Clearly, they thought I’d tried to SNEAK INTO THE PLAY! Me, one of the STARS of the BIG-CITY version of the play!
Not a good start to the evening, but I understand that us city folk can be kind of intimidating to Pawnee-ites. And clearly, I look like a criminal.
The set was very nice. And some of the students were pretty good, like the guy who played Mr. Kirby. His real name is Matt, and Matt’s dad came up to us before the play and talked to me for quite a while. I couldn’t remember his name to save my life, and I felt very rude not introducing him to my friends. I think his name is Steve, but I couldn’t be sure. I finally said, “this is my friend Kate,” hoping he say, “Hi, my name is….” But he didn’t. But I’m pretty sure his name is Steve, and I liked what his son wrote in the program – they all wrote what they’d do if they had a hundred dollars, and Matt wrote that the best way to spend $100 was to go pick shopping at the Guitar Center. I bet you could get a lot of picks for $100. Matt’s dad plays in a jazz band, so he’s obviously a good-n-positive influence on Matt.
The oddest action in the play was acted by the guy who played Kholenkov, the Russian dancing teacher. I guess that in the script somewhere it says that Kholenkov smokes. Our Kholenkov (played by the very talented and nice Gil O.) didn’t smoke, and it certainly didn’t seem important that the character do so.
But the Pawnee high school Kholenkov was all about the smoking. He had a cigarette in his hand, and tried to light it. It wouldn’t light. He kept trying and trying, still saying his lines, but he couldn’t get it lit. It was fascinating, in a train-wreck kind of way.
He gave up, but then later he started in again, and finally got it lit. He proceeded to puff on it throughout the rest of his lines, sometimes nervously flicking the ashes into a big urn. The thing is, I don’t smoke, and I know I could do a more convincing job of looking like I did. He kept taking short little puffs, watching the ashes, and like I said, his part was all about the smoking.
Besides the fact that he clearly didn’t know what he was doing, we wondered what, exactly, the people in charge were thinking, letting this high school kid smoke on stage. Smoking for no reason at all. Hmm.
The kid who played Donald, the maid’s boyfriend, in the show was good-looking. That’s actually an understatement; he was QUITE good looking. And clearly, he was very popular. Every time he came onstage, an excited murmur rippled through the audience. Every time he opened his mouth and uttered one of his (inconsequential and usually not meant to be funny) lines, the audience HOWLED with laughter. Clearly, a very popular boy. I leaned over to Kate and asked if maybe he wasn’t really a high school kid, maybe he was an international calendar model from somewhere who just happened to be in Pawnee for the evening? Hence the swooning from the girls in the audience?
After the show, we stayed up late. Nobody was arrested, no fights ensued, and we ended up at the Lime Street Café in time to hear the very last note that the band played, and a good time was had by all.
Maybe that’s the key – in order to stay up for karaoke next week, I need to be already out and about, so I’ll have no excuse for lolling around in my sweats.
And now it’s 10:58, too late to go to bed early, but early enough to read a little before falling asleep.
For you, Kate.
ok then,BOY I’M TIRED,
grace