OMG! I would totally love to see SAN ANDREAS with you, but I'm too busy!
I had a photo shoot with the Fabulous Dusti Cunningham today as Reba Areba,
then tomorrow night I have a party gig as Frieda Laye. Not even the weeknights are
safe! Tuesday I have a charity Drag Bingo to call and then next Thursday I have a corporate
Out lunch event, then, another photo shoot with Duke Shoman with Chico's Angels, then before you know it, CSW Pride will be upon us, where the Angels and I will be providing color commentary at the judges' table in the Parade. I barely had enough time to post this!
I guess I'll have to wait awhile to see SAN ANDREAS with you.
Until then, I'll be shaking it on my own!
I'm a rather busy gay, so I've had to watch TRANSPARENT a few episodes at a time(You know, in my day, they aired T.V. show episodes one at a time every week, except on holidays or special events, so sometimes you'd have to wait three weeks to see what happens next!) I finished the season last night and I was so damned pleased! I really like the show. If you'd seen my face, you might not know that. At the last scene in episode 9, I found my face wet with the wetness coming from my eyes.
As a Gay of a Certain Age, I find that I'll cry openly while enjoying a movie, t.v. show, stage show, song, particularly good serving of flan... It's not just sad things that'll bring me to tears, it's also beauty, happiness, empathy and lately, it's been simple acts of kindness. If you'll remember, FUN HOME really kicked my ass and I left that show puffy eyed and emotionally fragile. I love when that happens! Once in awhile, I'll let vanity win out and I'll try to hide the fact that I'd just cried at a Paul Rudd buddy movie, but as I get older, I'm starting to wear my tear stripes with pride. So, as I took a walk with Ed at the end of episode 9 and into the final episode of the season, I was puffy eyed & red and thinking of my own Ed-ness, especially in regards to this blog. I cried a little more the next half hour, but most of that was happiness for Alexandra Billings. I was so happy for her and her success and the great response to the show that gives her a chance to work and touch us with her performance. I met her while I was an extra in a movie called SOCKET and she was playing a doctor. We had a scene together where she was being a doctor and I was being unconvincing as guy with surgical mask and cotton pads. She was a very nice actress lady. It wasn't until I was a guest in her stage show KATIE'S CORNER that I found out what a hoot she is! This woman is a KOOK in the most wonderful way. Since then, I've done a few more Katie's Corners with her, as well as a few staged readings as fund raisers for AIDS/LifeCycle (All of this is thanks to Sean Abley, who continues to use me in stuff). Alexandra is also a beam of light, I love the way she spreads beauty and wisdom in her every day postings. I always feel something when I read what she writes, whether it's a lump in my throat or a giggle in the back of my mouth, it's sometimes accompanied by a tear or two... she touches me like that, because i'm a Gay of a Certain Age, I guess. You don't have to look too closely to see the tracks of my tears, they're right there, next to the laugh lines. This is me with Alexandra at the Young Frankenstein reading:
And this is something I stole from her Facebook page today, I hope she doesn't mind:
I was standing in line waiting for my double dipped espresso latte vente special chocolate shmengie-pumped-something, longing for the days when all I had to say was "Sanka, please" and my caffeine addiction was fixed, and from behind me, I heard my name. I turned and saw a mother and her daughter sitting at a table and smiling at me. Both blondes and both sat, hands folded as if they had just finished saying grace.
"We love your show." the mother said, breathy and with great purpose.
I walked closer to them, moving a few people to the side as the line was getting longer and longer.
"Thank you. What's your name?" I asked her.
"I'm Margaret and this is my daughter, Anna. She's eight years old. "
Anna looked up at me and smiled and held out her hand. I shook it. She stared at me with her sea-blue eyes and then calmly straightened a curl that had fallen over her face. She then, stood up and motioned me to come near to her. We walked away from the table and over to the corner. The sun fell through the glass that surrounded us and seemed to land directly around her, as if she were radiating light and the calling for me was historic and resonate.
"My name is Anna and that's what I call myself now... But I'm keeping Mark as my middle name... what do you think? Anna-Mark?"
I stood there, holding on to her hand. I was breathless. She smiled and the light of her reflected on to me and we held on to each other, standing in the corner being seen through the glass and speaking what was true for us. I then heard a clear "Alex?" from the distance, reminding me of my own past and the years of shame and rage attached to who I thought I was and what it was supposed to mean and how I needed to hold on to it and the ownership of others and my eventual surrender to the Divine guidance of my own truth.
"I am Alexandra-Scott. I think your decision is a great gift. For you and for others. And I thank you."
As we let each other go, and Anna walked back to her table, leaving the light in the corner, I caught her moving one more time, that pesky strand of blonde hair from her face, and snuggling close to her mother. And as I heard my name from across the room and walked toward it with gratefulness and wonder, I heard Anna giggle....and I did the same.
As an often single traveler, I can't tell you how exciting it is to see
offers flood my email box for discounted trips all over the world!
Japan, Hawaii, Greece, Ireland and even Los Angeles are all available
for only $1799 or less depending on the distance and length of stay.
I fall for it every time! I get excited at the great deal, then I see this:
Note: All options priced per person, based on double occupancy,
or pay an additional $300 fee to travel solo. Read about package structures here.
That's right, I get to pay $300 dollars or more because I'm traveling alone.
Such are The Trials of Man Solo. Here's the thing, I don't have any credit cards, so I have save up and pay as I go. An extra $300 can throw me off a month or two or longer. Also, I'm a sucker for a great deal, but if given long enough, I'll cool down faster than a gluten-free Eggo sticking half way out of the toaster slot! So, when I read about a great deal, then sift through the info, figuring out how I'm going to make one total, then have to stop to recalculate the "Solo Tax"- forget it, I'll move on to another exciting offer for another exciting locale. I know the idea behind the deal is to get TWO people on the cruise or tour in order to have them spend twice the money on peripherals, I just think it's sucks that I'm supposed to make up for the non-spending of the non-existent traveler. Perhaps it would be better if they offered a median price for all numbers of travelers with a set number of spaces put aside for solo travelers because, we all know they are usually offering these deals because ain't no one filling their available space and I personally think, one person in a double is better than zero person in a double.
Better yet, perhaps someone should start a travel agency that specializes in solo travels with just as attractive deals! If that is you, please send me your info. If I've inspired you to specialize and conquer this market, I'd appreciate a small thank you in the form of extra peanuts on a flight of my choice. ...and a hooker.
This is Dudley, he's currently one of my DABs- (Die Alone Buddy).
I like Dudley very much; he's nice, fun and generous.
What I admire most about Dudley is his creative drive!
Dudley gets an idea and he executes it to delicious perfection.
There are artsy projects in his home that I have thought about doing and having
in my home, but I never got around to doing it. Not Dudley, he thinks it up and paints,
draws, sews or builds until it is done and up for everyone's enjoyment.
Bravo to him!
Another aspect of his creativity I admire is his Party Throwing Super Powers!
Every one of Dudley's parties are thought out and played out to the hilt.
They are all themed and stupendously fun.
It's rare to find a guest of his that is "too Cool" to dress-up.
He's a great host, in that he decks out the place,
and welcomes everyone personally.
His enthusiasm is contagious so everyone tries to "bring it"
and even the laziest costume is something that wouldn't be sneered at
Sometimes, Dudley pulls an Angela Landsbury and has three or more
outfits for the night.
The guest list always has a number of interesting folks who are hunky, creative, talented
funny, and single- typically, they're a nice combo of it all,
When you go to one of his parties, you can always count on a good time, meeting fun folks and feasting on eye candy of all sorts!
And then there's this:
You gotta love a guy who decides he wants to make a movie and less than a year later has a completed product. It's not some hack-rate vanity piece either! It's a very fun, well produced comedy that is very entertaining. I was so proud of and very excited for him as I sat and watched the movie at a screening. I was also a little angry with myself for not having something even close to coming to fruition like this. I know it isn't easy, but Dudley makes it seem like his creativity comes to life with a simple flick of his finger. Look what happened when he flicked last year-
I really like this movie and encourage you to check it out on Netflix or even get your own DVD at Amazon.com because it's a movie you'll enjoy over and over again.
That's muh DAB! I think part of the reason I like to spend time with him is because I hope even a smidgen of his magic will rub off on me. ...and he's a hoot!
Some people think I'm pretty good, but actually, I'M THE WORST!
I'm the worst at double booking and missing events!
Not only am I too busy for love, but, apparently, I'm too busy for my own life!
Even though I have certain set appointments the same days each month,
I sometimes forget they exist and in excitement of an invitation I say, "Yes!",
then a day or so later I have to say, "No", with an audible saddy face.
Why, just this weekend, I missed two events that I was very much looking forward to.
One was a fundraiser pool party, full of men I know & would like to hang around with.
I missed it because I got excited about an invite to see PITCH PERFECT 2 in the morning,
after which I started fretting and preparing for an event that actually took place the night before!
So I missed one event because I was focused on another that I had already missed.
(I had to fret & prepare because I was expected to be dressed formally, and I wasn't sure which of two nearly formal outfits I would feel least uncomfortable in. Also, I was very excited because it was a fundraiser that included totally nude hunky servers- Anything for Charity, I say!)
As a Gay of a Certain Age, it has become apparent that I have to start using a calendar daily. I mean I have to actually stop myself and look at the goddam thing before I start my day. I think my memory is still pretty much in tact, it's just that I get so excited that anyone thought to invite me to anything that my mind drops one event for another, like a dog would do with a tennis ball for a Snausage. Or maybe my mind is going and I just can't remember dates or names, (unless they are soap opera related because I can still remember that Michael Weiss started playing the role of Mike Horton on Days of Our Lives on August 18, 1985. He debuted shirtless.)
I know, most people have used a calendar daily almost all their lives, but this is new to me. It's a habit I never got in to. When I was younger, I never really had much going on and I proudly lived off the cuff and spontaneously. Not anymore.
I think I can get used to it, though. Just be patient with me. I'll get the hang of it. I'm content knowing that needing a calendar is a normal thing and while I may have to start scheduling free time, if I ever have to start scheduling my ALONE time to remember to do it, just shoot me.
I'd love to go out with you this week, but I'm very busy!
I just found out I'm performing in Kay Sedia's show,
TACO KISSES, as Reba Areba this Thursday night,
so all my free time will have to be spent writing, memorizing and rehearsing
a ten minute slot. I'll probably talk about this blog and sing a song about
"This is why I'm Single" or "Too Busy For Love".
Then, after that, I plan to head to Big Bear for Memorial Day weekend,
So I won't be available until Tuesday,
But I'd love to grab a coffee or something, then.
Thanks for asking!
If you want to see me this Thursday, May 21 @ 8pm
Get jur teeckets here: www.kaysedia.com
So, there's this guy I met. I really liked him and we had great chemistry as we sat
and chatted at this fundraiser. Truth be told, he had me thinking about more than his brain and things in common... He was an average looking guy, with a tight body on him that made me wish I
had those x-ray glasses they sell in old comic books because I was dying to see exactly how his stuff was put together in his tight t-shirt and butt-hugging slacks! Then, to my incredible luck, I saw him
at Trader Joe's in the the snack aisle and decided that I'd break the ice by asking him to recommend a good gluten-free cookie. As I stepped toward him I immediately froze. It suddenly occurred to me that I had forgotten his name! How was it possible that this super friendly hot guy had been melting my butter all week long and I couldn't remember his name? I was fairly sure it was Nick, but it might not have been. I got really embarrassed, standing there like an idiot, frozen trying to think of his name. Then, he saw me, smiled and waved. I panicked and pretended I didn't see him and made a sharp right toward the pet food. I don't have a pet. I picked up a bag of gluten-free kibble and pretended to read the ingredients, dreading that he might turn the corner and confront me, telling me that he hates me for forgetting his name. Shaming me by saying if I'd forgotten his name, I mustn't be very interested, mustn't I! Now it is ruined for life!
So goes my day to day life, a victim of fear.
This is why I am single! I'm not trained in psychology or psychiatry, but I have watched all ten seasons of CRIMINAL MINDS and seven seasons of THE MENTALIST, so I feel qualified enough to say that I suffer from a condition I have named "MISNOMOPHOBIA"- the fear of getting someone's name wrong. I will admit I'm terrible at remembering names, so it must be guilt I feel about forgetting names that builds into an anxiety that prevents me from uttering a person's name, even if I'm sure it is correct. At parties I'm uneasy because I worry that I'll have to introduce someone to someone else and I won't be certain that I know their names. There are literally hundreds of times that I've stopped short of saying someone's name and seconds later find that the name I was going to say was correct.
This is bad for an actor, too. There's a casting director I met socially and saw again several times after. It was on our sixth meeting that he simply said, "Scott" in a tone that might as well have said, "You're never gonna read for me". Which is worse, not knowing his name or calling him, "Todd"? What if he knew a Todd that was a complete asshole and he got offended that I thought that was him? Either way, in the last 15 years that we met, I've never read for him. That makes my self-diagnosed phobia even worse! There's so much at stake, I have to get it right!
This terrible excuse social disability, has hindered me to the point that if I see someone I desire to know better, I would rather pretend I didn't see them and sulk away than face the embarrassment or possible insult by not getting their name right. This is probably a big part of the reason I like gay porn stars so much- They tattoo their name right on their neck! How handy is that? I know it sounds a little Bradburian, but I wish everyone had their names tattooed on their necks, just so that when I am walking up to them, I can confirm that their name is exactly what I thought it was, but was afraid was wrong.
I try thinking up sure fire ways to remember names, but none seem to stick.
So, I suppose I'll continue to miss out on, perhaps, very life-enriching relationships until I can find a way to assure myself that I have remembered someone's name, (or at least rest assured that no one will die if I get a name wrong.) Now, I sit, disappointed, but not sad, because I realize my best shot is with a tattooed gay porn star!
One of my DABs was telling a story about finally breaking the ice
on a certain subject with another guy to whom he'd been trying to convey his feelings.
He finally said the perfect thing to get the ball rolling on "the talk", but then immediately
let out the dreaded "Just kidding". Ugh! I share his frustration.
This is why I am single! Sometime I don't have the balls to tell someone how I'm feeling.
Being a Libra, keeping things balanced, there are other times when I say exactly what's
on my mind. One time I'll be all, "You wanna go back to my place an bump jangly parts?" While another time I'll be kind of, "Wouldn't it be nice if we were like this everyday? Just Kidding!"
The part about this that kills me is that when I finally say what I've been too scared to say, I immediately kill it with a "Just Kidding!" or "LOL". What is that about?
Why do we dismiss our wants or desires? What have we got to lose by expressing them?
I guess that's the difference for me. I'm not afraid to lose a make out session or sex, because when I'm boldly saying that's what I want, I'm either pretty sure the other guy wants it, too or I don't worry that a "No," means anything more than, "Not right now."
I LOL the situation when I worry that it'll change a relationship. I fear that a "no" will mean "no to me" rather than "no to a make-out session or a romp". It could mean "No, now you've ruined everything and I don't want to see you anymore," or "No, now we can't even be friends." That would suck.
I guess the LOL is a buffer. It's a way of getting the idea out there, then letting the other off the hook for a response, in hopes that they now Know it's in the air and it's up to them to bring it up.
Isn't that silly? If that's the purpose of the LOL, doesn't that let them know exactly how I feel and they'll either react the way I was afraid they'd react or worse, hear it, then ignore it and keep pretending that they don't know, leaving us in a weird "want more" limbo?
Isn't it worse knowing that they know, but they're willing to leave you hanging? Or maybe, they're hoping their not responding to it will be the message, "I like things how they are"? It puts the onus on them to tell me, putting them in the position I didn't want to be in. That's not nice.
Here's my resolve. Say it or don't get hung upon pussies who can't say it, either.
So, one time I was at Battery Park in New York,
when I heard someone yelling from behind me.
It was a statue, telling me something no human would;
I'm losing hair on my head.
I'm sure that this has been going on for quite a while,
but now it's become quite apparent. There's a nice round patch of scalp that
is very visible to people behind me. There's still some hair over it, but in the
right light, you'd almost expect a cartoon Carol Burnett dressed as a maid to pop
in and start mopping my head. I'm not typically a vain person so I've done nothing
to hide it, save for keeping my hair short, because the longer it is, the more the strands
band together and look like black veins spilling down from the top of my head.
As an actor, when I was on an episode of REBA, the make up people kindly used
a dark powdery substance to cover the glare, so I didn't look so Ed Asner-y from behind.
I have never done that. I don't even wear hats. I like hats, I just don't have a hat face.
Actually, I think it goes along with my not liking to wear stuff that makes me feel restricted
and with my big head, there's very little I can wear comfortably.
Also, when I was younger, I vowed not to do any of those crazy things I'd seen older gays
do to hide their gray hair or balding. No bleach jobs or toupees for me!
This is why I am single, I've never been very concerned for my looks.
I don't know if it stems from low self-esteem or if it's a matter of confidence in other areas,
or if it's just plain laziness, but I honestly don't look in the mirror much over the course of the day.
Sometimes I feel a little guilty, because I know that if I want to attract someone, I should
try to be attractive. Don't get me wrong, I'm clean and very concerned with how I smell (For the record, I apply antiperspirant/deodorant every day, but don't use cologne- if I do apply a spurt of scent, I prefer to smell like yummy food, like Birthday Cake) and I do sometimes fret in the mirror over a shirt that really enhances my fatty areas. Overall, my biggest crime is I don't do anything to enhance my looks. Unfortunately, when I vowed to myself not to let gray hairs bother me, I had no idea that when they come in, they are very wiry and stick out from the dark hairs shouting, "Look at me! Look at me!", so I confess, I've plucked a few out and snipped the worst offenders.
Maybe that small battle with the defiant grays have sparked a little vanity in me,
because now I'm starting to take notice of stuff and wonder, "How long has that been there?"
Also, although I never make specific visits to the mirror, I am spending a little more time there after
washing my hands in the restroom, taking note.
I guess the take away from this little reflection, for me is,
while I may not care to hide my balding, I do have to work a little bit
to care about how I look to others. Just because I don't have to look at me all day,
doesn't mean everybody else has to suffer.
BUT, if you ever see me walking down the street wearing an obvious toupee,
please, snatch it off my head and slap me with it. (Careful not to smear my make-up, because if I'm wearing a rug, I'll probably be wearing a skin toned foundation, too.)
There I was, in New York City, April, 2015,
waiting at Vynl for my friend and current DAB (Die Alone Buddy), Richard.
I got there a little early, so the wait for a table would be shorter.
Unfortunately, my twenty minute wait for a table for two was all for naught,
as Richard and I had miscommunicated and I would be dining alone.
When I informed the lovely hostess that, I would be dining alone, after all,
she took a glance at two available tables and then informed me that I'd have to wait
fifteen minutes or so for an available table, behind another unfortunate single man
who was waiting to dine alone (and who arrived after I did, by the bi).
Such are The Trials of Man Solo. You see, the two available tables both had capacity for
four people and, even though there was no one waiting to sit in them, their policy
is to make two people who are actually there (one who had been there for twenty minutes
already) wait longer until a smaller table opens up. I understand that a business mind might think that a table of four is better than a table of one, because that means a bigger check. However,
if there is zero sitting at the table, one is better, right? One is more than zero, right?
Isn't one in the booth better than four in the bush?
The fact of the matter is that regardless of the number of people seated at a table, the people
coming to dine there are going to have to wait for table until whomever is sitting there is done,
most people are willing to do that. If the service is good, a single would probably be in and out in a jiff. I think it is outrageous to make two people wait while there are two available tables with no one in line to sit in them. At the very least, the hostess might have suggested that we two singles share one table. Aside from being outraged, the fact that I had a show starting in less than an hour kept me from patiently waiting for another 15 minutes or so to be seated. I left in an exaggerated huff and settled for a tasty bowl at a Chipotle on the way to the theater.
Vynl used to be a place at which I HAD to eat, at least once, every visit to N.Y.
What with Chelsea's 8th Avenue fading away into nothingness, it was nice to have a place to go where I could count on a tasty meal and good time. I can't return there. While I have no problem dining alone, I do have issues with a place that makes me feel penalized for it. I shan't return to
Vnyl, I'll just pretend that it was located on 8th Avenue and disappeared along with the rest of some
of my other favorite haunts. (Yes, I did enjoy a few meals at the Vynl briefly located at 8th & 16th). I might miss its colorful decor with records on the wall and musically themed restrooms, but
the good thing about New York is there are plenty of restaurants with charm and personality.
Just remember, there may be 45's on the wall, but there are no singles allowed at Vynl.