fuckit

I can’t open the Safari today. I cancelled my internet service, which was way overpriced, and it ended yesterday. I thought I could handle being disconnected at home for a bit. Boy, was I wrong. Take away the TV, but don’t take the internet. For instance, I need to know how long the fruit should be soaking in the sangria I’m making. I don’t have a book that tells me as much- but the internet will.  I need to know what my calendar is- and I can’t see it unless the internet shows me. Everything I do is online. I’m not sure I actually know anything anymore or that knowledge storage is even relevant to me. Because I can find out anything at a moment’s notice. Why bother remembering?

Worse, I can’t see my horoscope. And today’s a big little day for me. Big because an idea I threw out stuck and whabam came to fruition. I want it to go so well. But I still need ample prep time, and worse, I need to remember another monologue that is stored in google docs, not on my computer. Another reason I need the internet stat. Pleaseohpleaseohplease let it go well. I feared I’ve picked too serious a monologue for a venue like this. So serious, that I just leapt up from my computer to...I don’t know run off and find that magical new one! I really don’t know why I just leapt up. I’m just blistering with energy and anxiety, I guess!?  But I have what Cainer’s talked about all week- and that’s kindness and confidence. Manifesting kindness and confidence makes any situation better instantly. I hope I channeled it last night. 

We met up with Dan and Jason- Dan for the movie- the King’s Speech- which ironically was about the power of kindness and confidence! Geoffrey Rush plays Lionel Logue, an amateur actor turned speech therapist who helps King George VI, played exquisitely by Colin Firth, work toward overcoming his terrible fears that stifle his voice and thereby cause him to studder when he speaks. Lionel is terrifically confident in his abilities, and sweetly doesn’t stand for any of the King’s tactics to derail the therapy sessions. More importantly, he works to instill confidence in the King, who has long struggled with the overwhelming duty of being a member of the monarchy. Confidence wins- not flimsy confidence, the confidence hard won by experience and an overdeveloped humility. 

But I digress....

Anyway, we met up with Jason and Dan. Jason works as  a cook, or possibly a sous chef, at a local restaurant/ nightclub.  He lives in a boarding house situation, and seems to have a colorful set of roommates.  He told Emily that high school, and in particular the years of being her boyfriend, were actually the peak of his life. I disagree- unless he lets his fears get the better of him. He looks like a baby, still, and he has no problem taking over a situation to drive it forward. After all, he was sitting at a table with quiet me, quiet Dan, and drugged Emily, he had to get the party started or we would have all stared at one another.  But the kind part of Jason is that he didn’t ask for a resume from Dan and me. He knows Emily’s story, but he doesn’t know our’s. He didn’t inquire about Bruce or anything like that. Partly because he far more enjoys talking about partying and being a bachelor. Or well, it’s a good flag to wave right now.  Anyway, I didn’t ask for his resume either, in return- a default conversation starter that isn’t meant to pin someone, but inevitably does. And I tried to keep it light and sweet and lively. I can do better though. Without alcohol.  I wish I wasn’t so shy, and I wish beer wasn’t so delicious. 

So tonight I share this monologue and maybe another with good people, people who work in the industry here, who I want to impress, who I need to impress, and with whom I want to start a dialogue. Even though I’m leaving, I need to, because, who knows, maybe I could have dual citizenship between Virginia and California. That would be heavenly. I need to because I need to know that where I’m going is where I’m wanted. And I don’t mean state, as in a location, per se. Rather, a work, a group, a community.  What’s more, I need to know I can get through a monologue confidently and thoroughly. I used to be able to, but since the move back East, it’s been almost impossible to even get to the stage without shaking horridly. It’s like I forgot I can disappear. I forgot all that I learned. Fear is a strange beast- it sneaks up and takes over in shapes and forms that seem harmless enough- until we find our voice is not longer there, and stammering becomes just a part of our fabric, our dna. We forget what it was like to speak without the stammer, and can’t even remember that time. 

I need to be kind to myself and kind to them and just remember, we’re all in this together. There are no levels, no betters and bests. There is no greater competitor than my own ego, so deep breaths, self, and ....fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckkkkkkkkkkit. Fuck it. Fuckittty fuck fuck it. What am I so afraid of? FUCKIT. Here we go...

(ps- wish me luck?)