I had forgotten the smell that you smell when a piece of your tooth starts getting grinded down into obscurity, and the gentle numb pressure as you click your hollow teeth against one another, and how the drill sings flight of the bumblebee to you if you close your eyes, and how when you open them that light overexposed everything entirely.
I haven’t had a cavity filled for nearly a decade, and that dusty gritty smell sent me back to third grade when everything was disconnected and my dentist was a cabin in the middle of the woods when compared the vast city when compared to my unassuming house on 64th street. Really it was just out in the suburbs and it had a small driveway and back then dense shrubbery constituted a forest of redwoods. My tongue is the most active part of my body and it always swirls and peeks around my mouth when i have something done to it. It swiped a tiny spy at the filling as my dentist turned away, and now i’m afraid i created some tiny pocket of insecurity and that everything will be able to infiltrate up to my brain if it can make it past my lips (which makes kissing scenes all the more dangerous). But, anyhow, i woke up at 6:30 and i’m playing the dreaded acoustic night with the same amount of cheery unpreparedness with with i approached it last time. Off i go.
We are producing two student written plays that are very witty and funny and i got cast as the male lover in both of them against the same female lover. I didn’t really think about the reality of kissing someone night after night on stage when i was auditioning, but now it looks like i am adding one more person to my impeccably neat little list of lips i have locked with, and my irrational fear of herpes alarm bell is ringing like mad. And, chat logs are lame.
Peter: I’m feeling much more apple-pie than normal
Rabi: is it fun?
Peter: No, not really. Well, the kissing thing is very shocking, but of all the people i could be kissing it’s absolutely the person i’m most ambivalent about kissing … which is good, because – no trouble. But, which is bad, because i am a romantic and meeting a girl in a love scene (or a making out repeatedly scene, as the case may be) in a play works out in my head
Rabi: the thing about those romantic fantasyish scenarios is that they have such a slight chance of ever being as good as they could be in a story or a song or whatever
Peter: Well, one of the other people i could be kissing met her boyfriend freshmen year doing the play. So, i didn’t want to kiss her either, cause it would be weird. I really wanted the almost-kiss girl to audition, because we would definitely get cast against each other.
Peter: And, of course, in my head my current partner quits the play in a huff and her replacement is some perfect girl and we fall for each other madly, but that’s just how things work in my head. They have a certain sort of gravitational symmetry
Rabi: kismet ?
Peter: Yes, but Kismet in Peter’s-Head Romantic Gravitational Units (phRGU) instead of Real-World Romantic Gravitational Units (rwRGU)
Rabi: I totally read that as fargo
Rabi: phrgu that is
Rabi: in some ways though isn’t it better to imagine it than have it actually happen? or something?
Peter: Um….
Peter: I think that’s been too much of my life so far. I mean, you read my page, right?
That sums it all up pretty well, i think. And remember, equations involving Crushing Krisis always need to be equated into phRGU. Or, fargos, for short.
mocha chocolata ya ya…
Oh, erm, i’m sorry, was that me singing? I somehow (don’t ask) wound up purchasing the Moulin Rouge soundtrack today on my lunchbreak, arguably to hear Nicole Kidman’s singing since she’s one of my all-around favourite movie stars and since both her and Ewan McGregor reportedly got signed to record contracts after promos of the soundtrack started floating around. David Bowie is also all over this disc with a new song, Beck covering “Diamond Dogs,” and a verse of “Heroes” inexplicably getting plugged into “Elephant Love Medly.” The first is incredibly scrumptious with Bowie literally crooning over a lush orchestral arrangement that accompanies the majority of the songs on the disc. However, Beck’s “Diamond Dogs” is an atrocity that only his general aura of coolness can make up for.
But, anyhow, i keep coming back to “Lady Marmalade,” not because i’m a pop music whore, but because it’s girl power. Four of today’s youngest and most recognizable voices in pop music on one great song that deserved a remake just so that people would know the name of the song that they’re quoting when they say “voulez vous coucher avec moi, ce soir?” It’s like Whitney Houston’s solid-gold remake of “I’m Every Woman” times four and with Christina Aguliera actually slutted up appropriately for the content of the song. And, hello, where the fuck did Pink get that voice? I’m honestly thinking about buying a Pink album (i mean, she is from Philly… of course, i haven’t laid down cash for the first Eve disc yet, and i love that). But, anyhow, aside from the overpowering midi-bass/guitar sampler backing up the song it’s really excellent (listen to the way those drums snap!) and i’m sure i’ll have Christina’s vocal part down to a science in a week or two. And, listening to Lil’ Kim sing here and there is really funny.
So, i’m sitting here wrapped in a towel listening to something from Billboard’s top40 and playing Snood and contemplating how i just got cast in two plays that involve me making out on stage. A lot. Didn’t i mention that earlier? Oh well, now you have to wait until rehearsal’s over. -xoxox
Today i got to leave work an hour and a half early because i went in super-early on Monday and worked all day, which got me back into the apartment at 4pm. As per daily routine, i put my keys down on the stereo, hung up my shirt in the bedroom, washed my hands and face, and went back to the bedroom to get changed. During this bit it somehow occurred to me that i should be singing “Happiness is a Warm Gun” at the tops of my lungs, and i was down to my underwear before i noticed movement behind me so i turned to find Matt attempting to sleep on the top bunk. He snarled a little and i apologized, but, honestly, was i really supposed to look around the room at 4:05 in the afternoon to check if anyone was still in bed? Seems a little ridiculous to me. But, anyway, because i’m actually quite nice i closed the door and left him be, but now i’ve only got underwear on. Oops.
It’s funny talking about Love, because it’s a relative concept; i can’t have a pint or a mile of love and you can’t necessarily have more love than i do. I think that i will never say i’ve been in love unless i’m referring to love that i’m in, because 20/20 hindsight is to sharp and defined when love isn’t anything like that. Love seems like it’s warm and soft around the edges, so that you need to be half blind to appreciate it and so you can never really hang on unless you’ve got the perfect kind of grip. Liz asked me tonight if i’d ever been in love with a girl and i said no without even thinking about it. I’ll figure out how to get it in the right focus eventually, though. At least, i hope.