Crushing Krisis

Comic Books, Drag Race, & Life in New Zealand

Personal

Backfilled

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I’ve been crap about blogging live for the past few weeks. Too much life, not enough to say.

Or so I thought.

I kept jotting down thoughts as I lived, because stuff kept happening. It seemed pointless at the time – journaling that would never see the light of day. However, starting from the Philebrity party on Thursday I felt like a theme was beginning to emerge. I went back to straighten things out and edit a bit, and it turns out I had something to say that I want represented on CK after all.

The result is that I’m backfilling all the non-blog blogging I’ve done since the first of this month. It’s blogging via hindsight, having seen the threads of my story woven neatly together over the weekend.

In the future I have to post as life happens and trust that a story is being written.

What I Tweeted, 2009-12-13 Edition

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My best and most-interesting tweets of the last week.

Quotes of the week:

If you had to pay $1/yr to follow each person, how many would you follow? Think less about overall spend, more about who/what is worth it. #

I'm like The String Whisperer – I always know when my set is about to start breaking. #

This day was supposed to get progressively easier. It should not feel like I am being beat about the head with a communications shovel. #

Oh: "She's kinda fat for the cover of Fitness." "Honey, it's a fitness magazine, not Emaciation Weekly." "I'd subscribe to that." #

Random childhood memory: jungle boat ride at Disney, age 5. Fell in love with 6yr-old girl across from me. Relationship never consummated. #

Um, #blamedrewscancer just won a phucking @philebrity award and I got on stage and said stuff extemporaneously AND HUGGED JOE SWEENEY. OMFG. #

How does Philadelphia hold all of these amazing people? And, when you meet them you say, "You are awesome, why don't I know you already?" #

Elise thinks that the American Red Cross should team up w/TwiHards across the country to throw special midnight vampire-themed blood drives. #

Highlighted topics/conversations: PANMA Party / Phileb Awards, Filmstar in NYC

You should follow me on Twitter so you can read my tweet action as it happens.

[Read more…] about What I Tweeted, 2009-12-13 Edition

Adventures in Adulthood

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The past ten days have been an adventure – from the unreality of the Imogen Heap and Lady Gaga concerts to the front seat of our car parked in Chinatown a few hours ago.

It felt right to end it sitting on a bedroom floor with E, her sister with her delightful boyfriend, and appearances of an adrenaline-filled little brother and an exhausted dad, both visiting from the cast party downstairs.

I can find a myriad of reasons to be unhappy. I’ll grant that I used to be better at it, but growing up and getting things that you’ve always wanted for yourself takes the edge off. Still, even all married and with a fulfilling job and being a part time rock star I can make myself miserable. Just ask the me of two Monday’s ago.

I say that by way of contrast: when I’m happy, I know it. I clap my hands. I laugh. I love my hair. I say delirious things that get tweeted if Britt or Amanda are anywhere near me. I break out into Rent in the middle of E’s dad’s foyer, high school girls tittering as they walk past.

Those kids sealed the deal for me. I turned around to talk to E and between us was one of the leadz from the play – imperial and larger than life last night, but tiny, young, and fragile between us. I finally got to tell her how awesome she was. She grinned, thanked me, and then yelled, “Steeeeeeeve, where do I get water in your house?”

She was oblivious, moving through space effortlessly just like she did on stage last night. I never knew how to do that as a teenager. If I was happy, it was fleeting, and if I moved through space effortlessly it was because I forgot myself.

I could not have possibly pictured this life as a teenager, sitting on the floor with a partner and siblings I love, laughing louder than the combined forty teenagers downstairs.

Next time I’m feeling grumpy, awful, unhappy, hateful … just remind me about these ten days.

It’s good enough for whales, dude.

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We just got through sitting in our parked car eating dumplings, a queer little Saturday night date in the midst of this insanity of rock shows and serious theatre and made up awards.

Based on two visits, I love nearly everything from Vanessa’s Dumpling House on Eldridge Street, but my shrimp dumplings were not what I expected. I’m not sure what that expectation was, but it wasn’t a dumpling with dozens of teeny shrimp all nestled inside with no seasoning to speak of.

Ever since I saw District 9 I’ve been a little leery of shrimp eating, and the dumpling of a thousand shrimps was not making the shrimp-eating experience any less ooky.

I turned to E for some comfort.

P: These dumplings have, like, thousands of tiny shrimp inside of them. It’s a little creepy.
E: Like sea monkeys!
P: You’re not helping.
E: Or krill!
P: Okay, now I’m done.
E: Hey, it’s good enough for whales, dude.

E and the band were pretty good, although I can already tell she’s not going to like the video because she wasn’t happy with her vocals (she’s been pretty sick since Thursday). Every time I mention a good spot she has a bad spot to match.

I’m always inconsolable after a performance, for better or for worse. Either I know in my heart it was awful, and no coaxing can convince me otherwise, or I’m sure I was excellent and need no further discussion on the topic (Monday being a prime example).

I won’t rattle her cage any further about it being good or not. We’re off to peek into bro’s cast party to catch up with various sibling units before bed.

Filmstar @ Fontana’s

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I am in Fontana’s in the middle of Chinatown in New York waiting for Filmstar to play, and Emily Cavanagh is talking to me from the stage.

Well, not just me, but it might as well be, because she has that kind of stage presence where she is drawing us in instead of pushing herself out.

We are in the midst of a Santa bar crawl, she informs me, clad in a short red skirt and candy cane striped, fur-trimmed arm warmers.

Emily’s three piece is fun and jazzy, and I am marveling at the merry-go-round of NYC music. I might hate it here (not really) (okay, really), but there’s such a wide range of music to hear. I mean, there’s a show with this fun jazzy stuff followed by Elise and the band glam-rocking through a Filmstar set.

I don’t feel like that happens in Philadelphia. It’s still more segregated – the jazz kids stay on the jazz side of the line, the acoustic kids hang out with their own, and the bands drive the big shows.

There are more Santas here by the minute. The room is now filled with Santas. Some are bearded and authentic, while others are half-hearted in hats and vests or just striped stockings.

Emily is kind of killing it, first with “Branch,” then “Down the Line,” and something about “Sunday Morning.” I think I’m going to have to say hello to her.

But, first I have to go sit in our parked car and give the appearance of knowing how to drive a car, because our parking pass expires three minutes before parking is free. And god help me if anyone calls that bluff, because I don’t think I know the window wiper fluid from the gas pedal.