2001-12-27 - 10:56 a.m.

Wow, so much for being more forthcoming with my entries. 11 days. The diaryland gnome is pissed, he's blathering about broken oral contracts and possible legal repercussions, and meanwhile I'm trying to figure out why I feel so stuffed. I have eaten WAY too much recently. Only human, I suppose, what with the christmas season, visiting relatives and friends, and the impossibility of doing any serious excersize when you have to make each moment count. My brother was home for 4 days, and I wasn't going to waste an hour or two of that doing Yoga. So, instead I vegged, and now must needs return my attention to my health and physical needs. Yoga Ho!

Actually, that's exactly what I need right now! A Yoga Ho! Or rather more explicitly, I need a relationship. It's been 5 months since my last one, and I rather think I'm due. The universe is giving me encouraging signs in that arena, by the way. Aside from my love-lorn co-star, I had the interesting, and probably never-to-be-repeated experience of being hit on in church. During Christmas Mid-night mass, no less. By a 30 year old woman, over the course of an hour, with her husband sitting next to her on the other side. Nothing too obvious, but she did compliment me on my voice and looks, comparing me to Donny Osmond (Eek, indeed), and offering me a kiss on the cheek on top of the 'Peace be with you' handshake. Jokes were traded, and flirting commenced. Huh. Cheryl, my co-star previously mentioned, apparently thinks I'm really attractive. Huh again. Of course, she hasn't seen me in my current bloated state, but it's nice anyway.

Having spent the christmas season in an almost perpetual state of marijuana intoxication, I'm ready to be keen again. Time to dry out, take charge, drive hell-for-leather like some Prussian from out the mind of Actionhero, and ... what? I have the Asolo auditions coming in January, I need my paper-work for Yale and NYU completed soon, I need to fill out a fafsa, for which I need some old tax info which has all disappeared. I have very little time, all told. But I need out of this situation. I lost my job again, this time because Bones has suddenly stopped serving lunch, the only time I am available to work until January. They're going down, I can feel it. Well, more time to job hunt. Can't wait till this play is over, can't wait to get in a new play. Glad I have a fuller resume, but sweet god, I need something a little more fulfilling, dontchanoe.

I'm writing a little poetry, and studying Japanese (characters and Hiragana included), so if anyone wants to start a little correspondance, by all means lemme know. And now, a blessing.

My friends, my family, my public: Christmas has come and gone, repeated as it has been for 2001 years, and will be repeated for some time to come. Every year, the same ceremonies, the same relationships, the same monotony of repetition which circumscribes our lives and experiences. And to that repetition, I quote a wise man: "There's nothing you can do that can't be done". Don't curse repetition, it is all we have. And repetition is, in and of itself, not bad. When we look beyond the outward show of this life, these actions, we see the reasons, if not the meaning, behind it. In following that reason, we repeat the previous events, but in following that reason, we also create anew that which is old. A play is always the same, the same lines, the same outcomes, the same characters. The same 'what'. But if it's done right, it's never done the same way. A different 'how'. The manner springs from the reason, the reason is eternal, and constantly gives life to repetition. Like the rituals of Christmas: the point is not the tree, the gifts, the eggnog, or even the mass. It is a recognition of cyclical time married to linear. Through the repetition, through the connection, we are moved forward, forever chasing each other on a meaningless loop, but that loop can, and does, move. Winter comes, as it always will, and it drops the same snow on this same earth, but yet we grow older. It is never, even when it is exactly, the same.

�

�

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