cast parties and maudlin reflections
My lord I’ve had an odd evening. I apologize in advance, this is a bit maudlin, a bit heavy, and no where near as light as most of my posts. The music that plays now is appropriate in too many ways: “wasted time” by the eagles on my random playlist. I just went to a cast party for a show where I felt half-included. The older cast members know me well; Ralph, Poff, Paul, Johnny C. and from them I felt mostly included, but from the rest, I could have walked out after dropping off the spiked watermelon and no one would have noticed or cared. Strangely that doesn’t bother me. I was in the orchestra, and the orchestra was poorly represented at the party, so I was an outsider. I only started hanging out with any of the cast members recently, so I am missing most of the in-jokes, and don’t have the 3 months of camaraderie. So it all makes sense.
It was just too hard to talk to people. I was reaching deep to come up with conversation topics, and it was depressing how often the well was dry. I wandered through the party like a lost soul, and I think the longest I stayed in any one place was when I stopped Jack Curly in a hallway and talked to him for 10 minutes. Woo. How productive. Good to see Jack again though.
This past week has been psychotic, manic, off the wall. From poker winnings, to 4 hour lunches and unexpected people pulling for me, I was riding an odd high. Odd only because it wasn’t a top-of-the-world high, but more like the confusion when the inveterate and unlucky gambler finally hits a hot streak. The whole time he rides his streak, he has to wonder when it will end. Well, I won’t say that mine has ended. Only changed. The facts as they stood Friday night (mostly) still stand. Only there’s more drama involved than I originally thought. And the drama doesn't worry me at all. Because it feels like it belongs somehow, like I'm caught in a movie, and the stage has just been set. But the could be the lack of sleep talking.
Personally I feel that God (assuming that you, the reader, believe in a God) has a great sense of humor and he likes to dangle choices in front of me. For example, at the Halloween party I hosted my senior year of college I met two girls. Me, Mr. Perennial Single met two girls who wanted to date me in one night. The question then was (after I stopped grinning like a retard) what the fuck am I going to do? And though I do not regret my decisions, I find myself every couple of years with decisions that seem as important and just as vexing. I’ve been debating over whether or not I would move back to RI. The pros are gigantic. Great friends, regular gaming, little restaurants I like, and all the randomness I could want. But the cons are pretty bad as well. I’d have to leave home, leaving my dad alone, and be poor. So it’s a tossup. And now I have a small series of combining x-factors. Wtf? I hate when these choices are given to me. A lot.
I have also had to question myself in terms of what I want out of life. Do I want to continue as I am? Acquaintance of many, true friend to few? To be honest I have very few true friends and I know I’ve treated them awfully these past 2-3 months. And yet when I look back at the specifics, I find very little I would change. It’s kind of annoying. Or I could do what Emma seems to have done. Simplify my life. Cut out what doesn’t fit, what is more trouble than its worth, and surround myself with a small coterie of great people.
There are other options. Go away to grad school somewhere I haven’t been, make a new set of friends, and restart over. But I don’t like that option. It’s too severe.
All I know for sure is what I am doing on Monday. That’s it. And for now that should be enough. Because I sure as hell don’t know what others will do around me. And man, thinking of the possibilities hurts. A lot. My dreams are fractured fairy tales where a thousand possible futures play themselves out. And in most I find myself lost and alone, shunned and forgotten.
Is it any wonder that I’m averaging four hours of sleep a night, if that?
It was just too hard to talk to people. I was reaching deep to come up with conversation topics, and it was depressing how often the well was dry. I wandered through the party like a lost soul, and I think the longest I stayed in any one place was when I stopped Jack Curly in a hallway and talked to him for 10 minutes. Woo. How productive. Good to see Jack again though.
This past week has been psychotic, manic, off the wall. From poker winnings, to 4 hour lunches and unexpected people pulling for me, I was riding an odd high. Odd only because it wasn’t a top-of-the-world high, but more like the confusion when the inveterate and unlucky gambler finally hits a hot streak. The whole time he rides his streak, he has to wonder when it will end. Well, I won’t say that mine has ended. Only changed. The facts as they stood Friday night (mostly) still stand. Only there’s more drama involved than I originally thought. And the drama doesn't worry me at all. Because it feels like it belongs somehow, like I'm caught in a movie, and the stage has just been set. But the could be the lack of sleep talking.
Personally I feel that God (assuming that you, the reader, believe in a God) has a great sense of humor and he likes to dangle choices in front of me. For example, at the Halloween party I hosted my senior year of college I met two girls. Me, Mr. Perennial Single met two girls who wanted to date me in one night. The question then was (after I stopped grinning like a retard) what the fuck am I going to do? And though I do not regret my decisions, I find myself every couple of years with decisions that seem as important and just as vexing. I’ve been debating over whether or not I would move back to RI. The pros are gigantic. Great friends, regular gaming, little restaurants I like, and all the randomness I could want. But the cons are pretty bad as well. I’d have to leave home, leaving my dad alone, and be poor. So it’s a tossup. And now I have a small series of combining x-factors. Wtf? I hate when these choices are given to me. A lot.
I have also had to question myself in terms of what I want out of life. Do I want to continue as I am? Acquaintance of many, true friend to few? To be honest I have very few true friends and I know I’ve treated them awfully these past 2-3 months. And yet when I look back at the specifics, I find very little I would change. It’s kind of annoying. Or I could do what Emma seems to have done. Simplify my life. Cut out what doesn’t fit, what is more trouble than its worth, and surround myself with a small coterie of great people.
There are other options. Go away to grad school somewhere I haven’t been, make a new set of friends, and restart over. But I don’t like that option. It’s too severe.
All I know for sure is what I am doing on Monday. That’s it. And for now that should be enough. Because I sure as hell don’t know what others will do around me. And man, thinking of the possibilities hurts. A lot. My dreams are fractured fairy tales where a thousand possible futures play themselves out. And in most I find myself lost and alone, shunned and forgotten.
Is it any wonder that I’m averaging four hours of sleep a night, if that?