Getting There
There comes a point in the degeneration of a bedroom when the piles of unfolded laundry, year old souvenirs, and assorted detritus utterly takeover and it ceases to be, well, a bedroom. That point is when you wake up in the morning and realize that the bed is lower than the piles. At that point the whole area can be called a storage unit, a bodega, a really big closet, or even a guest room. But it is no longer a bedroom. Don't kid yourself.
I just woke up in a really big closet. In New Jersey.
So here's what's been happening so far, Future Pol, because I know someday you'll be going through these old entries perhaps trying to figure out where it all went so wrong. I kid. I'm sure you're a successful thousandaire with a car and a six-pack. The beer or the abs, both are equally acceptable.
A few months ago you realized, in a fit, that you were 26 now and time was running out on the America clock. A few years earlier you promised yourself that you would go home to Manila for good before you turned 30. You promised your friends that you'd go back and be young men together. Yes, Inception was an awesome movie.
You quickly put together a timeline containing all the things you needed to achieve in America before you went home. Then you threw about 90% of those things out because you don't want to go home when you're 60. That left you with three things. First, be debt free. Second, have a total balance of at least $10,000. And third, be able to say you did theater in New York.
So, after doing the Blank Theatre's Young Playwrights Festival in Hollywood, where you met that guy from Sliders, a dude from Queer as Folk and that one girl from Modern Family, you packed up/threw out/gave away/sold your things and flew to JFK International Airport. But since you didn't have a place to stay in the city, you took 4 trains to Asbury Park, about 60 miles away in New Jersey, to stay with a good friend while you looked at apartments. From Asbury Park you two drove to Jackson, where he grew up.
As closets go, this one is pretty damn comfortable. The mattress is memory foam. And the piles have interesting things in them, like hand painted Venetian masks.
And don't forget: you owe Andrei Pamintuan several huge favors for housing you and cooking for you and driving you around. He's the best so if you ever get the chance, throw yourself in front of a bullet intended for him.
Also remember these details about your stay on the Jersey Shore:
-The old Carousel House in Asbury Park is delightful and nearly completely covered in amazing molded copper. In a thunderstorm, look but don't touch.
-The boardwalk has good frozen yogurt and questionable wifi service.
-The old abandoned steam power plant is awesome. It looks like a wizard's tower. It looks like Jedi should be having lightsaber fights on the balconies. It looks like the end of the world could begin if a virgin child breaks a seal hidden deep within its shadowy halls. It looks like I would love living there.
-DJ's Delights serves the biggest and the best sandwiches ever.
-There's a bust of Bruce Springsteen in the city center that's made of brass but wears a red bandana. There's also a bust of one of the Patriarchs of the Greek Orthodox Church wearing the traditional over sized and draped fez thingie. I like to imagine that at night the two come to life and argue over who would win in a fist fight if either of them had fists.
-All the cooked Filipino food at Kapamilya Market is half-priced if you buy them 15 minutes before they close.
-The cute redhead at the liquor store is bored but shows up to work completely made up and dressed up just in case interesting men show up.
-Cute redhead's liquor store gave you an idea. What if you had a bar that was also a liquor store up front? It could work. A liquor-store-bar could cater to those who want some place to go drink, play pool and meet people and those who want to buy drinks for an inuman at home! People who go to buy a bottle of rum at liquor store prices might see someone they know and stop for a bar-priced drink. People who come for a drink and to flirt might grab a bottle of something on the way out! This is genius. You just need to keep the store part far away from the bar part so people will see them as distinct choices and won't, for example, buy a bottle at the store to drink inside the bar area.
-Never put anything in the pockets of your swimming trunks. Just don't do it. That's how iPhones die.
-And I think one of Andrei's gay cast members licked my finger on purpose. Yeah, mull over the physics of that one for a second.
-I'm in the union now. I don't work unless you pay me. That's just the way it goes.
-There are potholes here that haven't been fixed in 15 years, or so I'm told.
-The broken down houses and abandoned factories are surrounded by woods and tall green grass. They're kind of beautiful.
So that's New Jersey. Mostly. That's what I've been able to see through my haze of exhaustion and hopefulness. This whole adventure promises to be far more challenging before it gets good but I'm really not worried. I surprise myself actually. I thought I'd come down harder on myself and this whole thing but I don't feel at all sad or bad-tired, just awake and scheming and good-tired, like after Yoga not after 9 hours under fluorescent lights.
On that note, sing with me would you?
I'm feeling like a Monday but someday I'll be Saturday night.
I just woke up in a really big closet. In New Jersey.
So here's what's been happening so far, Future Pol, because I know someday you'll be going through these old entries perhaps trying to figure out where it all went so wrong. I kid. I'm sure you're a successful thousandaire with a car and a six-pack. The beer or the abs, both are equally acceptable.
A few months ago you realized, in a fit, that you were 26 now and time was running out on the America clock. A few years earlier you promised yourself that you would go home to Manila for good before you turned 30. You promised your friends that you'd go back and be young men together. Yes, Inception was an awesome movie.
You quickly put together a timeline containing all the things you needed to achieve in America before you went home. Then you threw about 90% of those things out because you don't want to go home when you're 60. That left you with three things. First, be debt free. Second, have a total balance of at least $10,000. And third, be able to say you did theater in New York.
So, after doing the Blank Theatre's Young Playwrights Festival in Hollywood, where you met that guy from Sliders, a dude from Queer as Folk and that one girl from Modern Family, you packed up/threw out/gave away/sold your things and flew to JFK International Airport. But since you didn't have a place to stay in the city, you took 4 trains to Asbury Park, about 60 miles away in New Jersey, to stay with a good friend while you looked at apartments. From Asbury Park you two drove to Jackson, where he grew up.
As closets go, this one is pretty damn comfortable. The mattress is memory foam. And the piles have interesting things in them, like hand painted Venetian masks.
And don't forget: you owe Andrei Pamintuan several huge favors for housing you and cooking for you and driving you around. He's the best so if you ever get the chance, throw yourself in front of a bullet intended for him.
Also remember these details about your stay on the Jersey Shore:
-The old Carousel House in Asbury Park is delightful and nearly completely covered in amazing molded copper. In a thunderstorm, look but don't touch.
-The boardwalk has good frozen yogurt and questionable wifi service.
-The old abandoned steam power plant is awesome. It looks like a wizard's tower. It looks like Jedi should be having lightsaber fights on the balconies. It looks like the end of the world could begin if a virgin child breaks a seal hidden deep within its shadowy halls. It looks like I would love living there.
-DJ's Delights serves the biggest and the best sandwiches ever.
-There's a bust of Bruce Springsteen in the city center that's made of brass but wears a red bandana. There's also a bust of one of the Patriarchs of the Greek Orthodox Church wearing the traditional over sized and draped fez thingie. I like to imagine that at night the two come to life and argue over who would win in a fist fight if either of them had fists.
-All the cooked Filipino food at Kapamilya Market is half-priced if you buy them 15 minutes before they close.
-The cute redhead at the liquor store is bored but shows up to work completely made up and dressed up just in case interesting men show up.
-Cute redhead's liquor store gave you an idea. What if you had a bar that was also a liquor store up front? It could work. A liquor-store-bar could cater to those who want some place to go drink, play pool and meet people and those who want to buy drinks for an inuman at home! People who go to buy a bottle of rum at liquor store prices might see someone they know and stop for a bar-priced drink. People who come for a drink and to flirt might grab a bottle of something on the way out! This is genius. You just need to keep the store part far away from the bar part so people will see them as distinct choices and won't, for example, buy a bottle at the store to drink inside the bar area.
-Never put anything in the pockets of your swimming trunks. Just don't do it. That's how iPhones die.
-And I think one of Andrei's gay cast members licked my finger on purpose. Yeah, mull over the physics of that one for a second.
-I'm in the union now. I don't work unless you pay me. That's just the way it goes.
-There are potholes here that haven't been fixed in 15 years, or so I'm told.
-The broken down houses and abandoned factories are surrounded by woods and tall green grass. They're kind of beautiful.
So that's New Jersey. Mostly. That's what I've been able to see through my haze of exhaustion and hopefulness. This whole adventure promises to be far more challenging before it gets good but I'm really not worried. I surprise myself actually. I thought I'd come down harder on myself and this whole thing but I don't feel at all sad or bad-tired, just awake and scheming and good-tired, like after Yoga not after 9 hours under fluorescent lights.
On that note, sing with me would you?
Click to viewI'm feeling like a Monday but someday I'll be Saturday night.