Crushing Krisis

Comic Books, Drag Race, & Life in New Zealand

Personal

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Somewhere in my Communications Theory book it says something to the effect of art introduces a new or original way of looking at life. Right.


I have been having some fussy bitchy unjustified issues with Laurel lately. Don’t ask me why, because there is no why; any issue i ever have with Laurel exists entirely inside of my own head. But, anyway, the first day she got back i just got this vibe from her that Laurel Had Returned and that i had gotten shuffled way down to the bottom of the deck from where i had been before she left. And, why not? Laurel is the pretty one, the talented one, the intelligent one, the castable one. Of course, i never saw it that way at first; all i knew was that i had a dream where we kissed and that it didn’t seem like such an awful idea.

Two years later, the situation is more tangled in my head, and who knows what the situation is like in hers. Tonight when we started talking in our production class all the petty resentment i was starting to build quickly faded out because face to face there was nothing… only things i had created and surmised.

Before tonight’s round of auditions Laurel gave me a ride to my house, and while we were there i played her some songs … two she already knew and three i wrote while she was away. Sometimes i question whether or not anything i do is vaguely artistic by anyone’s definition let alone by the one i mentioned at the top of the post, and today while i was playing songs for Laurel i was playing all my usual games … glancing up and away, shutting my eyes, carefully watching my picking even though i surely know the patterns tried and true. When i inevitably got to “Under My Skin,” Laurel sang along just like she did on the demo recording, and looking at her she was really meaning something when she was singing the words… not just intonations and syllables, but something beyond. I’m not sure if she’s even applying the lyrics to the same time and place that i wrote them about, but suddenly they have life and meaning for her, and according to my communications book that’s one tangible step closer to art.

https://crushingkrisis.com/2001/10/6070887/

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So, here i am broadcasting wireless from the fifth to last row of our theatre with the aid of the roomies, and there are 30+ people on stage for auditions. 40minutes into the process and our director barely has them onstage. Linsday and Erika and I are here in the back, specifically to observe and to lament how dreadful and long auditions are and how happy we are that we’re not up there. I’m ostensibly skipping out on acting in this one because of my fraternity mini-convention, but really i let them set the date for it with full awareness that it would be a physical barrier in the way of my playing a part in our fall show. And i didn’t mind. So, this is it … me in the audience watching all those poor nervous faces on stage as it begins to dawn on them that they’re going to be here a long time. And again tomorrow night. And again on Wednesday. And for the rest of the term.

I hope they they all break a leg :)

https://crushingkrisis.com/2001/10/6043868/

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Hi. Apparently my lap-dance was written off as random drunkeness (though i’ve heard it was quite good despite a lack of quality nudity), and i wound up sleeping all night last night while two of my favourite people to talk to were hanging out with Erika downstairs so that i could get up at 8am this morning and do laundry for three hours. Oh yeah, baby.


In other news, much graciousness to ShadowClear and Andy Dehnart for linking to me for no apparent reason other than that they find me interesting, and to Jean’s blog for continuously linking me even though i need Izabelle to translate for me half of the time.. And, also, i appreciate Rabi‘s adding my link to her new layout; rest assured that when i figure out who exactly i’m reading Rabi will still be very much on the list. I mean, you know my surfing habits are running on tilt when i couldn’t tell you what’s happening on in the lives of Benjy, Tom, Mollie, KevRock, Martha, Brendan, Eve, Lizzie, ErnDawg, Nancy, and all the rest.

https://crushingkrisis.com/2001/09/6015860/

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Last night was our second of three nights performing in our student written/directed plays, and we actually had an audience. A big audience. All of the major current Drexel Players showed up, and we had equally that many Freshmen in attendance for our little meet and greet function afterwards. The show was hilarious, the actors had a good time, and then things got interesting.


Being the Friday night of a show we were (of course) going to have a cast party later, and somehow someone got the idea to start inviting the people at the reception every time our program director turned her back. So, we went from a rowdy crowd of theatre people alternately hitting on each other and talking about how trashed we were going to get (or, in some cases, how stoned we were already) to leading a parade of assorted players and freshmen back to Kevin’s at 8:30. Yes, 8:30. I don’t think we’ve ever started a party so early in my entire time here.


Us regular peeps didn’t drink especially in excess, but there was an unusual amount of energy in the air between it being our first big party as a group this year and our first chance to mingle with our new recruits. Needless to say, things quickly got out of hand. I decided after only consuming half of what i typically do that i really needed to be a whore. A big, cheap, rowdy whore. Suddenly i found myself giving people peeks at my underwear and straddling others sitting on couches or in armchairs. And, somewhere in there, someone unfortunately asked me if i was planning to give lapdances.


I am infamous for my teasing at lapdancing at theatre parties, but last night i was all sexed up with nowhere to go and i happened to have Garbage with me, so suddenly “Queer” started popping up on stereos all around the house as i writhed around like a man whose clothes were on fire.

My first dance was for some girl named Adina who lamented “It’s a shame you’re not straight,” to which i replied “Oh, but i am.” Needless to say, that lead to some interesting conversation. But, anyhow, after another warm-up dance i decided to take my act down into the middle of the living room where i could be viewed in all of my inebriated bump-and-grind glory. Let’s just say that a lot of me was seen, and it involved a lot of writhing around on top of Chevy and Hillary. Somewhere in the middle Meg decided to start spilling beer on me (intentionally) and between all the adrenaline of dancing around half naked and how much i generally despise Meg i smacked her (but only in the nose, and she slams me across the face harder every night in the play). If anything, i figure that should make tonight’s kissing (and slapping) all the more interesting.

Afterwards i seem to recall being carried out of the room over Chevy’s shoulder and plunked down in the hallway, and afterwards i just followed someone around all moon-eyed while they talked about how they weren’t ready to break up with their boyfriend and how they like this creepy crew guy and i just sat and listened for the remainder of the night. Because, ultimately, i’m protective of my female friends even before i am possessive of them. At some point i danced to “Miami” and then facilitated Ross crawling into a bathroom, and then i collected Erika and Lindsay (both knee deep in their own inebriation-related drama) and we found someone who hadn’t been drinking to drive us home.

Wow, it’s almost as if this is a journal… or that i’m happy some of the time. Rest assured that i mentioned the pointlessness that is life and how much i hate everyone at least three times at the party, lest you think my depressed-cred is waning. And, now that i just gave an hour long tour to perspective students while slightly hung over, i’m off to locate something resembling breakfast.

https://crushingkrisis.com/2001/09/5995858/

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So, not to tease you and then leave you waiting for more or anything like that, but let’s just say that last night will forever be remembered as “the night of the lapdance(s).”

Oh, look, i have to give a tour now. See you later…

https://crushingkrisis.com/2001/09/5994563/