David A. VanCleave

Favorite Chicago Things Part II: The Cta

2011-04-10T19:19:00.002-05:00

CTA.

Okay, so anyone who has lived in Chicago knows that the CTA is one of the biggest pains. It never arrives when you want it too. It delays when you're running late to class. The bus always leaves just as you're getting to the stop. Or, on a day like today, your bus hits someone. (True story, but she's okay. Her fault.)

But even though you curse it every day, you also learn to take it for granted. It is so vital to living here. Even those who drive everywhere rely on it for means of communicating directions, navigating around neighborhoods, etc. I can get anywhere in the city--and most of the city at any time of the day. It is incredible. Moving to Springfield, Missouri, without a license is beginning to scare me, hardcore. I might invest in roller blades.

Favorite Chicago Things

2011-04-05T16:59:00.005-05:00

I keep thinking about how I'm leaving Chicago in just 68 days. There's a lot I'm going to miss. Here are a few of my favorite things (cue the mental image of me running down the hill in a Maria wig). Some of these are Chicago only, some are chains that I first experienced in Chicago.

WOW BAO.

What do I say about Wow Bao? A Bao is a little warm asian bun that is filled with goodness. Imagine your favorite Chinese dish--Kung Pao Chicken, Thai Curry), Teriyaki Chicken...and even a delicious desert Bao (Coconut, Chocolate, or Banana). They also serve rice bowls, but two bao were always enough to fill me up on a break from work at Lush. Aside from Bath Bomb demos, this is the thing I miss most about working at Lush. The covenient Wow Bao right around the corner.

RED VELVET TEA at ARGO.

I do not go to Argo Tea nearly as often as I should. But when I do go, I always get the Red Velvet tea. That's right. The deliciousness of red velvet, but drinkable on the way to rehearsal. Served hot or cold. Amazing.

DEVIL DAWGS

This joint is amazing. Conveniently located down the alley from The Theatre School, Devil Dawgs serves the greatest hot dogs, slider burgers, and french fries. Delicious, reasonably priced (Dawgs and Fries are pretty cheap, the sliders add up when I make it a triple cheese), and you don't have to walk for more than 2 minutes round trip. The Slaw Dawg is the best (cole slaw on the hot dog). During rehearsals for A Raisin in the Sun, director Phyllis Griffin would often send one of the stage managers to pick us up fries to share and dawgs.

I will most more favorite things later. Off to rehearsal now.

oops

2011-01-08T00:55:00.001-06:00

Jenna Guy: I think I'm turning black.
David: Can you find a way?
Jenna: Black.
David: Oh. Not back.
Jenna: Now you just look stupid.

I love her.

home.

2010-10-26T01:20:00.002-05:00

Over the past four years, I have loved living in a city with such a vibrant theatre scene. I love having several options of shows to see for any given day of the week. My creative mind has been shattered with some of the most breathtaking theatre I’ve ever seen and I have learned from some of the biggest theatrical mistakes imaginable. With such an eclectic community, everyone is willing to take risks. It is necessary to survive in such a busy and often-competitive world. I could not have asked for a more rewarding educational experience from my community.

However, as I plan to cut the safety leash of education and run into the “real world” of theatre, I want something completely different. I want to provide theatre opportunities to communities that might not normally have them. I want to create cutting-edge, ballsy, provocative work in small town Nebraska. I want to introduce Sarah Kane to the future theatre artists stuck with no other outlets other than high school productions of Rodgers and Hammerstein or Neil Simon. I want to stir something in the gut, crotch, and soul of unexpected patrons. My home will not only allow me to do this, it will encourage me to and provide a pool of artists who share my passion and goals.

I’ve noticed a very large difference between the theatre professionals I’ve talked with in Chicago and the dedicated volunteer actors of community theatres in America. Professional actors too often see a show as a gig—a way to pay rent. That is understandable—it is their job. Yet the volunteer actors are working nine-to-five jobs before heading to the theatre from six to eleven every night. Why? Because it is what they want to do. They have come together to share with their community their talents, as well as [hopefully] a story that needs to be told. It is among these dedicated and passionate performers that I will call my home. By building my home in a community in need of theatre and with like-minded and passionate individuals, I know that my work will come from a place of love. They may not have the training, or even the skill as the professional performers, but I have found that too often passion reaches the back of the house more than the Method.

My home will not only be a place where artists can collaborate together, it will be a sanctuary. I think back to my younger self and the one place I felt free—the theatre. No matter what was going through my head or in my life I knew when I went to rehearsal, I’d be free. More importantly, I knew I could use that freedom—and that which I was freed from—to fuel my craft. The same open arms that greeted me at The Des Moines Community Playhouse will be present in every theatrical journey I embark.

Does "It Get Better?"

2010-10-23T14:49:00.003-05:00

I'm participating in an intergenerational study with gay men right now. It is a writing group. We meet on Fridays for two hours and discuss/write about various things. Four juniors/seniors from DePaul University and then several older gay men. It is an absolutely fascinating experience, and I love using generational gaps as framework for larger theories/ideas.

Yesterday, we discussed the It Gets Better campaign. We were to write a short response to the campaign, as well as a response to the notion that It Gets Different. The writing was easy and I'll admit, I didn't think or reflect as much as I should've. But in the group's discussion, I did.

I realize I may sound like a cold, bitter fool here. I'm just processing thoughts. Putting things on the table. Creating discourse.

I don't understand why all the recent gay suicides are making national news. We had a National Spirit Day where people all across America--people identifying with each of the letters in our too-long acronym of LGBTQIA--wore purple to show their support of ending Anti-LGBTQ bullying. It's wonderful and beautiful that so many people showed their support.

There are hundreds of videos on YouTube for the It Gets Better. Everyone from Sarah Silverman to President Obama to the Broadway Cast of Wicked has created a video, explaining why and how it gets better. I'll admit, some of these videos are annoying. Some are mundane. Few are actually inspiring. But the fact that so many people are jumping on board is pretty cool, right?

But is it necessary? Is it helpful?

Gay students have been committing suicide for years--decades, even. So why now? Why are these cases making national news? Is it because America finally realizing something should be done about it? Is it because the media wants to stir something up? Or is it because our society missed this particular narrative? It used to be if a TV show, film, or play had a gay character, they died. Either suicide, AIDS, or murder. That's not the case anymore. We can finally be represented as happy, healthy, and living individuals.

Enter the media. Reintroducing the narrative that gays kill themselves. Yes, there is truth to this. LGBTQ students are four times more likely to commit suicide than heterosexual students. But sometimes, I blame the media more than I blame the bullies.

Kids are bullied for everything. You wear glasses? Bullied. You're overweight? Bullied. You wear the same outfit because you don't have money? Bullied. Freckles? Bullied. You're different in any capacity (never mind the reality that everybody is different)? Bullied.

So why is it that the gays seem to be the only ones driven to the point of suicide? Is it because they/we are bullied more? Possibly. Or is it because for years, the media and entertainment have hand-delivered an excuse to all gay youth? If we turned the spotlight away from gay suicide and worked to destroy this disgusting social narrative, would queer youth see suicide as an option?

Furthermore, I don't know if I agree with the It Gets Better campaign. I'd like to believe that the hardships, trials and bullies gay high school students are faced with disappear completely. But they don't. They change, yes. I'm not taunted in the hallways at DePaul University like I was at Des Moines Christian (ironic, I know). I'm still seen as second-class citizen by our government, though. I still cannot donate blood or serve openly in the military (not for long!). In many states, I can still lose my job or my housing just because I'm gay. Most states prevent me from marrying and adopting. I am still called "fag" and "homo" as I walk down the street.

I don't say this because I want to discourage the younger generation. I don't want that at all. But more important than "things getting better," I've developed thicker skin and a strong support system of family, friends, and boyfriend.

Things may not get better . But they get different.. And that difference is worth all the bullying, hardships and legal persecution thrown in our faces every day by the ignorant and asinine closed-minded fools living in America.

random thoughts.

2010-09-20T04:30:00.002-05:00

I have class at 8 am. It is 4:40. I have 3 hours. I tried going to sleep before 2, and I just couldn't fall asleep. At 3:30, my phone alerted me that I had a new voicemail. No missed call so no clue who it was from. Voicemail in the middle of the night? Not a telemarketer. It's a Sunday night, so probably not a drunk dial. Must be an emergency. My mom is at Mayo clinic right now, so I immediately start to panic and my mind rushed to sixty different places in the fifteen seconds it takes for my phone to start playing the voice mail. It was a potential employer. She apparently called around 1:00 this afternoon, but I just got the voicemail....at 3:30 AM. Weird. Anyway, I feel bad because I really want this job. I shall call tomorrow.

I wish the gym was open 24 hours. They open at 5:30. I'll go then. I need to start working out. I'm not in bad shape, by any means. But we could all be a little bit healthier, right?

Do you think people should be paid for donating organs (while living. Clearly you can't pay the dead)? For example, someone needs a kidney. I have an extra. Should I be paid for donating it? I watched an SVU the other night that dealt with this. They were charging people for black market organs... but the organs were healthy, the operations were being done by a professional, and it could've saved a young boy's life. People aren't donating at the rate others are needing the organs. Should there be more of an incentive? If I knew someone that needed a kidney and I was a match, I'd give it to them. But it isn't like I wake up in the morning saying, "You know, I think I'm going to give away an organ today." But if I got paid for it, I just might. People get paid for donating plasma. Why not kidneys?

I'm actually not sure how I feel about it. Just something to ponder.

The other night when I was talking to Thomas, we had the most amazing conversation. Through the conversation, I came to the realization that he is unlike any guy I've ever been with. There are many reasons for this, but the main difference is... he makes me feel significant. He makes me feel like I deserve the world. Like I'm the most amazing guy in the world.

There's a quote in The Perks of Being a Wallflower, on page 24, that says "We accept the love we think we deserve." I've always loved this quote. What I love about Thomas is that he makes me feel like I deserve it all. In the past, I've accepted feelings of insignificance because it is what I thought I deserved. Yes, I've experienced love before. And I'm not trying to say I've been made to feel like crap by everyone else. But I've felt insignificant. It feels nice to not feel that way. To always have a smile on my face. Feels even better to feel like I deserve to be smiling.

And I don't mean to be cheesy and overly romantic. But it has now been a year since the beginning of my homeslessness-loss-of-all-friends-terrible-ordeal-phase. So much has changed in the past year. It's nice to be with someone who makes me feel as significant and as strong as I am.

The gym opens in half an hour. Am I really doing this? Am I actually going to the gym at 5:30? I'm nervous. Gyms freak me out. Why? Because I'm not fit like the other gymmers who go at 5:30. The gym is not a place I line up for outside. Harry Potter, yes. Exercise, no.

But alas. I'm still writing because I have no idea what to do with my life. And I don't have Netflix anymore and I've already watched every episode of Law and Order SVU that I own.

I think I'm going to gather my belongings and make a gym playlist now.

Have a happy Monday. (Especially Olivia Dustman--HAPPY BIRTHDAY!)

change.

2010-06-01T22:21:00.006-05:00

My name is David and I have a problem.

I have an SVU addiction.

Seriously. In the past 2 weeks, I have watched close to 2,500 minutes of Law and Order Special Victims Unit on Netflix Instant Watch. That is 41.6 hours. It is a problem.

Yes, this has resulted in loss of sleep and social activities. But it has reminded me of a passion I've ignored for too long. Abuse victims. It seems every other episode deals with an abused child--typically sexual, but they've dabbled in neglect and the presence of illegal drugs/alcoholism. Some of the stories are outrageous--a girl was kidnapped 7 years ago and ends up killing her kidnapper on accident and regrets it and refuses to return to her family. I've rolled my eyes a few times at the extent of the writer's imaginations. But the thing is...this happens. Yes, it is a fictional show, but similarly outrageous crimes are happening to the children in our country on a daily basis.

A report of child abuse is reported every five seconds.

Almost five children die everyday as a result of child abuse. More than 75% of these children are under the age of four.

Child abuse occurs at every socioeconomic level, across ethnic and cultural lines, within all religions and at every level of education.

When I was in 8th-12th grade, I was an active member of HOPE Drama Troupe--a drama troupe through the Des Moines Child Abuse Prevention Council. Our 25 members wrote our own script and performed for thousands of students each year. I remember one performance day... we performed at a school, did our question and answer session, packed up the van and left for our next performance. After the next performance, our directors received a phone call telling us that because of us, seven children had a safe place to sleep that night. Now I don't know anything other than that. I do not know specifics, nor do I even remember the name of the school. I just remember the ecstasy of, literally, saving lives.

Even after those children had a safe place to sleep, their lives are forever at risk...

Over 60% of people in drug rehabilitation centers report being a victim of abuse or neglect.

Abused teens are three times less likely to practice safe sex, increasing risk of sexually transmitted infections (STIs).

Abused children are 25% more likely to experience teen pregnancy.

About 80% of abuse victims grow up to meet criteria for at least one psychological disorder.

Since graduating high school and leaving HOPE Troupe, I have done nothingfor abuse victims. Sure, it inspired a tattoo on my right wrist, but that is about it. If the above statistics are true, since my last performance in HOPE! Troupe on May 7, 2007, over 5,600 children have died of child abuse in the United States. And what have I done in that time? I directed The Laramie Project and assistant directed A Raisin in the Sun. By no means am I saying theatre cannot have an impact on people's lives. It absolutely does. It impacts my life all the time. I love theatre more than just about anything in the world, but how can I not do something about the young lives that are being taken daily by parents, uncles, aunts, strangers... I'm not trying to be too dramatic, nor am I implying that nobody should go into theatre. For me, theatre has become too selfish.

Aside from that, after living in Chicago for three years and experiencing all sorts of professional theatre...I'm not sure it is what I want to do. I love theatre and I don't think I could ever stop doing it completely. But professional theatre too often becomes about the paycheck and the passion falls to the wayside. I'm not interested in directing a show to get a paycheck. I want to direct a show because it is a story that whatever community I'm a part of needs to hear. I can do that on the side. I feel too much of a burden for children and families.

So... I am finishing my time at DePaul's Theatre School. I will graduate in June 2011 with my BFA in Theatre Arts, Directing. But then I will begin pursuing social work, eventually receiving my Masters in Social Work.

----
Statistics taken from http://www.childhelp.org/pages/statistics.
----

Sidenote: I cannot stop listening to Christina Aguilera's new album, Bionic. So good.

how perfect is this?

2010-04-28T01:28:00.000-05:00

I want to be wanted.
And need to be needed.
I desire your desire,
And long for your longing.

love.hate.

2010-04-11T15:27:00.003-05:00

I hate.
x hangovers
x oeople who ride the esclator on the left side rather than walking up it
x people trying to enter a bus, train or elevator without letting current passengers exit
x gender binaries
x getting depressed
x friends getting depressed
x not being able to save my friends who are depressed
x vanessa hudgens playing mimi
x closed minds
x people who stare at my red pants at the student center even when they are wearing pajamas
x sleeping on hardwood floors
x sleeping alone
x feeling alone
x trashy girls raving about their drunken white trash weekend loudly at the student center when im trying to write
x not knowing if im friends with someone enough to wave to them at the student center or pretend i dont see them
x smelly feet, especially mine
x certain first year tts students who want the world to know they are first year tts students
x being held to a higher standard in my non-theatre classes simply because im a theatre school student
x english professors who mispronounce "medea" and "oedipus"
x figuring out csi:miami in the first ten minutes
x not working at lush
x not working
x finishing a good book
x the fear that my hate list might be longer than my yet to come love list
x getting yelled at at bars for being too loud outside
x not being hipster enough for estelles
x not knowing what ill be doing this summer
x farmville on facebook
x any game on facbeook besides scrabble and jetman
x going inside with beautiful weather and coming back out to gross weather
x hard nipples that could cut glass
x attractive people who eat with their mouths open
x unattractive people who eat with their mouths open
x other people wearing my red pants
x drying off after showers
x cupboard doors left open
x time left on the microwave
x inequality

I love.
o my mom
o people
o my family
o my friends, i have the best
o God
o perks of being a wallflower
o being alive
o being alive
o sondheim
o my red pants
o laying outside on top of my parking garage watching the sun rise over the city
o bethesda
o big brother
o feeling a part of a community
o learning about life
o reading
o life cereal (and golden grahams and lucky charms)
o grilled cheese
o any cheese
o staying up until 6 am talking with my best friends
o listening to freshman discuss next year's living arrangements
o rock paper scissors
o jennifer hudson
o my certainty of God's existence
o seeing the beauty in everyday things, trees especially
o walks
o the dictionary.com application for blackberry and its word of the day
o dreaming
o inspiring others
o being inspired
o music
o the film scores to finding neverland, angels in america, edward scissorhands and up
o poetry
o edgar allan poe
o meeting celebrities
o meeting new friends
o des moines
o chicago
o naps
o tetris
o mario
o new underwear
o mismatched socks
o long showers
o feeling infinite
o spell duels with my meredith mae
o letting the sunshine in
o whoopi cushions
o whoopi goldberg
o bubbles
o silly string
o theories
o analyzing works of art i love with people i love
o jackson pollack
o f scott fitzgerald
o thinking i am the character in my books
o middle names on facebook inspired by literature
o itunes shuffle
o my niece
o my laramie project family
o shnuggling
o raymond, my clown
o my uncle mike, who gave me raymond
o knowing i could continue this list forever

missing

2010-04-07T17:17:00.002-05:00

I miss Lush. So much. I really don't want to. I want to hate the company and the products and everything about that place. But I can't. I crave the products. I miss smelling like the store wherever I go. I miss doing hand treatments. I still talk about the products to anyone who will listen. I miss explaining to people that I really do have the best job in the world. I miss life-changing customers and life-defining coworkers/family. I feel so betrayed by the company, but I don't care. I would gladly look past it in a heartbeat to work there again.

I miss my old friends. I'm on good terms with a lot of those friendships, but not all. I'm very happy for what I have. I love them more than anything. I miss spending time with my Boogles every Friday night. I miss planning choreographed dances to Hairspray and/or Dreamgirls.

I have changed and grown so much since mid September. I've emerged from The Dark Ages with a bright new view on life. I am loving myself every day. I have made the necessary steps to improve my life and situation. I have freed myself from relationships and baggage that should've happened a year ago. I feel more independent now than I ever have.

But why I can't have this new self-appreciation and growth AND the best job in the world and come home to a dance party with the best friends in the world?

Random Questions

2010-04-04T13:57:00.002-05:00

You probably have never wondered these questions about me, but I felt obligated to blog and didn't know what to blog about. So... here.

1. First thing you wash in the shower?
Face. I wash face, wash body, rinse body, rinse face, wash hair, rinse, condition, leave in for a few minutes while I continue singing Gaga, rinse.

2. What color is your favorite hoodie?
I dont really have one... it used to be blue but I lost it. :-(

3. Would you kiss the last person you kissed again?
Definitely

4. Do you plan outfits?
I do for special occasions and events, but not generally, no.

5. How are you feeling RIGHT now?
Content but sleepy

6. Whats the closest thing to you that's red?
Raymond's (my clown) arm

7. Tell me about the last dream you remember having?
I was the Chosen One and Voldemort was chasing me but I wasnt brave enough to fight him so I arranged a portkey and was going to hide in Germany but Jacob, Meredith and some other people grabbed my leg as I was traveling and we started a new life for ourselves in Germany... that is, until Lord Voldy found us and we had to turn the red line (yes, The CTA... but in Germany) into a portkey and move to Albania.... taking everyone on the redline with us. The Ministry was not pleased, but Voldy never got me.

8. Did you meet anybody new today?
I did last night!!! I think her name was Libby and she was very nice. I also "met" Jacob's roommate, who I've met several times before...he just doesnt remember.

9. What are you craving right now?
A NAP

10. Do you floss?
Sometimes but not daily. I know. I'm bad.

11. What comes to mind when I say cabbage?
Patch Kids

12. Are you emotional?
Can be quite emotional.

13. Have you ever counted to 1,000?
I'm sure I have....

14. Do you bite into your ice cream or just lick it?
Lick.

15. Do you like your hair?
Uhhmm not right now because I havent showered yet. But sometimes I do.

16. Do you like yourself?
woah - personal.

17. Would you go out to eat with George W. Bush?
Definitely not.

18. What are you listening to right now?
iTunes is on shuffle. Currently it is "You Can't Stop the Beat" from Hairspray (movie).

19. Are your parents strict?
Nope. They're amazing.

20. Would you go sky diving?
I want to!!!

21. Do you like cottage cheese?
Love it. With chives!! MMMMM.

22. Have you ever met a celebrity?
A few! Patti LuPone! Megan Mullally.

23. Do you rent movies often?
Nope, just watch them online.

24. Is there anything sparkly in the room you're in?
Sadly, not so.

25. How many countries have you visited?
Including the United States? One.

26. Have you made a prank phone call?
What kind of question is that? I'm a VanCleave. Of course I have.

27. Ever been on a train?
...I live in Chicago.

28. Brown or white eggs?
MMMMM eggs. Both.

29.Do you have a cell phone?
It is attached to me.

30. Do you use chapstick?
Yup.

31. Do you own a gun?
Definitely not.

32. Can you use chop sticks?
I love 'em!

33. Who are you going to be with tonight?
Not sure!

34. Are you too forgiving?
Probably

35. Ever have cream puffs?
Delicious.

38. Last time you cried?
During All About Steve the other night. IT IS A GOOD MOVIE.

39. What was the last question you asked?
Can you come to campus?

40. Favorite time of the year?
Spring or Fall. I think Fall. Yeah. Fall.

41. Do you have any tattoos?
One on each wrist.

42. Are you sarcastic?
Only always.

43. Have you ever seen The Butterfly Effect?
Yeah. Watched it with Jon Burgher, Katelyn Epperly and Ben Millar once after a show or rehearsal from Ingersoll.

44. Have you ever walked into a wall?
More than I'd like to admit.

45. Favorite color?
It changes frequently. I do like green.

46. Have you ever slapped someone?
Mmhmm.

47. Is your hair curly?
Nope!

48. What was the last CD you bought?
I dont remember buying CDs. I generally "borrow"

49. Do looks matter?
They matter but arent the only thing that matters.

50. Could you ever forgive a cheater?
Abso-friggin-lutely not.

51. Is your phone bill sky high?
Not really!

52. Do you like your life right now?
Sure!

53. Do you sleep with the TV on?
Nope - No TV in my room

54. Can you handle the truth?
Sometimes....

55. Do you have good vision?
I have amazingly perfect vision.

56. Do you hate or dislike more than 3 people?
I dislike more than 3, that's the truth.

57. How often do you talk on the phone?
At least 3 times a day

58. The last person you held hands with?
HEY PERSONAL QUESTION! I DONT KISS AND TELL.

59. What are you wearing?
Womens jeans from Express, grey undies from j. crew (so not my sexy kind), dark charcoal v neck and a button up with several colors. Oh and one black/grey argyle sock, one brown/orange argyle sock.

60. What is your favorite top 3 animals?
What ARE perhaps? I dont have favorite animals. Like, I literally cant think of them.

61. Where was your default picture taken?
My room

62. Can you hula hoop?
Sometimes

63. Do you have a job?
NO AND I DONT WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT

64. What was the most recent thing you bought?
Who knows

65. Have you ever crawled through a window?
Yes.

top tens

2010-02-04T16:36:00.003-06:00

just for fun. top ten lists completed without thinking and analyzing.

Top 10 Movies

10. The Devil Wears Prada

9. Romeo + Juliet

8. Mean Girls

7. Moulin Rouge!

6. Avatar

5. Eternal Sunshne of the Spotless Mind

4. Chicago

3. Milk

2. The Hours

1. Finding Neverland

Top 10 Animated Movies
10. Rockadoodle
9. Ferngully
8. Nightmare Before Christmas
7. Finding Nemo
6. The Lion King
5. Monsters Inc.
4. Beauty and the Beast
3. Aladdin
2. Wall-E
1. Up

Top 10 Songs
10. Let It Be/Beatles
9. Home/Peter Sloterdyk
8. Good Enough/Evanescence
7. Not While I'm Around/Sweeney Todd
6. Kiss the Air/Scott Alan
5. Kissing You/Des'ree
4. A Way Back to Then/ [Title of Show]
3. The Song of Purple Summer/Spring Awakening
2. Bad Romance/Lady Gaga
1. Glitter in the Air/Pink

Top 10 Music Videos
10. Toxic/Britney Spears
9. Just a Dream/Carrie Underwood
8. Sober/Pink
7. Paparazzi/Lady Gaga
6. Single Ladies/Beyoncé
5. Thriller/Michael Jackson
4. Like a Prayer/ Madonna
3. Beautiful/Christina Aguilera
2. Going Under/Evanescence
1. Bad Romance/Lady Gaga

Top 10 Books
10. The Hobbit/J.R.R. Tolkien
9. The Scarlet Letter/Nathaniel Hawthorne
8. Harry Potter Series/J.K. Rowling
7. A Separate Peace/John Knowles
6. Lord of the Flies/William Golding
5. The Great Gatsby/F. Scott Fitzgerald
4. Angels in America/ Tony Kushner
3. I am Not Myself These Days/Josh Kilmer-Purcell
2. The Perks of Being a Wallflower/Stephen Chbosky
1. Cyrano de Bergerac/Edmond Rostand, Translated by Brian Hooker

Top 10 Musicals
10. BatBoy
9. Parade
8. Rent
7. Cabaret
6. Les Miserables
5. [Title of Show]
4. Ragtime
3. Spring Awakening
2. Into the Woods
1. Sweeney Todd

Top 10 TV Shows
10. Saved by the Bell
9. Dawson's Creek
8. Skins
7. Doug
6. Degrassi: The Next Generation
5. Friends
4. Glee
3. Sex and the City
2. Big Brother
1. Will & Grace

2009.

2009-12-31T00:41:00.004-06:00

this was a crazy year.

i made mistakes. i learned lessons. i hurt friends. and i hurt relationships.

but i moved on.

if i could go back and undo the mistakes i made this year, things would be happier. my life was happier at the beginning of 2009. but i know that i shouldn't. and i wouldnt.

throughout all the mistakes and hardtimes, i've learned a lot about friendship and family.

my friends are the most important thing to me. and this year i really realized what makes a good friend. a good friend is one who sticks by you even when you make mistakes. even when you screw up. a friend will always be by your side, even if they are in another state.

in the past year, ive had friendships and relationships fall to pieces. and that saddens me. ive done what i can to mend those, but sometimes you cant fix things. people change. people dont care. and people move on.

but in the past year, i've also built some incredible friendships.

kelley. i have no idea what i would do without kelley. she's my rock and i love her more than life. if she wasn't with steve, we'd be married. she is the grace to my will. plain and simple. i would do anything for her and she would do anything for me. and shes proven that. our reality show will rock the world. so much dramz, so much laughter, but we've got the heart, too! we are the real legends.

sam. sam has been in my life for years but it was 2009 that really defined our friendship. ive always loved and respected sam, but after years without communicating as much, and [me] blowing off plans with him for whatever reason, we finally started hanging out in 2009. now, he's my best friend who i love more than life. he is seriously one of the most wonderful people ive ever met. he is the living example of a friend who is always there to listen. no matter how tired or annoyed he is, he listens to my problems. he lets me vent. but then, more importantly, he tells me what he thinks. even when i dont want to hear it. i love him and respect him more than just about anyone. he is my hero.

srda. srda srda srda. i cant even begin to describe him. he is my little brother. i love him and would do anything for him. i cant believe we didnt meet when we lived in the same state. as much as id love for him to come to chicago next year for school... i'm glad he'll be in boston. he's going to go so far and do incredible things. hands down one of the most intelligent, charming, hilarious and talented people ive met. not to mention he has the greatest smile in the world. one flash of his charming smile, and you'll do anything for him. its a dangerous tool he has, but he wields it well.

other highlights of my 2009...

laramie project. my life for months. i grew so much as an artist and person during that experience. i learned that i have a lot to learn as a director. thank god i lucked out with my incredible cast. a cast whose passion drove the show. the only thing matching their passion, was their raw talent. im happy to be able to call them my family.

lush. ive never had a job i loved so much. 2010 promises big changes with this job, but im happy that i got to experience the greatness while i could. without lush, id have no kelley. and thats just no life at all.

i met mika. who i will marry.

im an uncle to the beautiful and perfect lyla anne.

there are many more highlights that i will probably think of later. this has been complete stream of consciousness, as all blogs should be.

im really looking forward to 2010. my first year with a midnight kiss. i cant wait to ring it in with David, Sam and all Sam's lovely friends. here's to an amazing start to the decade.

a very greyhound christmas

2009-12-30T22:10:00.003-06:00

My Christmas Experiences.

December 24, 2009. 6:30 PM.

I get off work, go upstairs to the employee locker room, grab my suitcase, my backback and carry with my my giant tote bag of Christmas and birthday gifts for my family. I leave Macy’s, but not before having security search my suitcase and all my belongings (good news: I didn’t steal anything). Nothing too major.

Arrive at the bus station around 7:30. (I stood around talking with a coworker, Nnenna, for a little bit.) I check in, get my ticket, check my bags and begin waiting. I get a burger from the bus station burger joint, which wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been. Wasn’t exactly good either. Then I continue waiting for my 9:55 bus.

Around 9:00, I move toward door number 7, that I was supposed to leave from. I’m waiting in line and realize, around 9:35, that I’m the only person in line. Hmm. Not wanting to get up with all my luggage and haul it to the customer service counter line. So I call my mother and ask her to call to make sure my bus is on schedule. She calls me back a few minutes later. Sobbing. My bus is cancelled.

Cut to:

December 25, 2009. 5:45 AM.

I arrive back at the bus station awaiting my newly scheduled 6:30 bus. Around 6:20, I board the bus. I get comfortable, cram my oversized tote bag full of books, LUSH hatboxes and solid shampoos into the overhead compartment and snuggle down across from a woman who won’t stop complaining about Greyhound. Apparently she had been sitting in the bus station for 30+ hours. I’d be pissed too.

6:30. My bus is supposed to leave. A man comes onto my bus and announces that anyone with the final destination of Des Moines is to “get your stuff and get on that bus right there,” as he points to another bus. I do. That bus leaves at 6:50 AM. Over an hour after I was supposed to arrive in Des Moines.

We drive. I meet a passenger who just got out of prison. I hear a passenger who has tourrettes. I get annoyed by a foreigner speaking to her children on the phone. The entire trip. It isn’t the fact that she’s foreign that upsets me. It is the screaming and laughing and crying in a language I don’t understand.

Around 11:30, I arrive at a bus station in Burlington, IA. We arrived earlier than scheduled but now must wait until 2:30 to board another bus to Des Moines.

Remember that lady who was in the bus station for 30+ hours? Yeah, she’s still with me by this point. She’s trying to get to Albert Lea, MN. Which apparently is a hoppin’ place, given the large number of passengers outraged that no bus will be traveling to Albert Lea from Des Moines.

Anyway. I eventually get on the next bus and arrive in Des Moines later that evening. We go to my brother and sister-in-law’s house, where I finally get to meet my niece, Lyla Anne. Who is the most precious and magical gift I’ve ever received on Christmas. She is adorable and perfect in every way. Well, other than the fact that she won’t wake up whenever I’m around. But what can you expect from a baby less than a week old?

Cut to:

December 27, 2009. 8:00 AM.

Arrive at the bus station for my bus that is scheduled to leave at 8:30. We leave shortly after we were scheduled to, without switching busses. Progress.

Cut to:

11:15-ish AM.

We make a pit stop in Walcott, IA. For those of you who don’t know where Walcott is, which I’m assuming is everyone, it is where the world’s largest truck stop is. Except we didn’t stop at that one. We stopped at the baby one down the street. We have 25 minutes. I go inside, pee, grab a Mt. Dew, and get back on the bus. Continue reading my Kathy Griffin book (Thanks, Joy). 25 minutes later. We try pulling out of the truck stop. Nope. Not going anywhere. Not even getting started.

The bus driver climbs out, pokes around the bus, gets back on the bus and announces that we can’t move.

A few phone calls, and twenty minutes later, he announces we are waiting for a replacement bus…..to arrive in five hours.

About four and a half hours later, another bus pulls into the truck stop. “Hey, bus driver, where that bus goin’?!” A woman yells. “I’mabout to find out.” He says. Half hour later, we hop onto the new bus that was en route from IA City to Chicago.

We then wait in Davenport, IA for twenty minutes so the replacement bus, that is holding our luggage, can catch up with us. A few rearranging and we’re on our way back to Chicago. Getting in around 9:30 PM. 5.25 hours after scheduled.

The morale of the story: do not take Greyhound, kids.

books

2009-12-05T03:40:00.001-06:00

one of my new years resolutions is to read one book a week. fifty two books in one year.

to help with this, i need good book suggestions.

kiss the air.

2009-11-05T08:28:00.003-06:00

If I stayed with you

I would live a lie

For you deserve a love

This heart cannot provide

So I’ll wish you well

And be on my way

I’m not the one who could give you what you need

So I’ll bid you farewell but don’t you dare watch me leave

I didn’t mean to

Hurt you this way

But I’m not what you need

So I guess

I’ll just be on my way

One day you’ll wake up

And thank me for what I did

When you’re living your happy life

Behind your white fence, new husband and kids

Like a captured bird

Who yearns to sail the sky

I will unlock your cage now

So prepare to fly

And I’ll kiss the air

And hope it finds you well

Goodbye

I’m not the one who could give you what you need

So I’ll bid you farewell but don’t you dare watch me leave

I didn’t meant to

Hurt you this way

But I’m not what you need

So I guess

I’ll just be on my way

One day you’ll wake up

And thank me for what I did

When you’re living your happy life

Behind your white fence, new husband and kids

So, I’ll kiss the air

And hope it finds you well

Goodbye

love and anger.

2009-11-03T11:48:00.000-06:00

David

its funny... i want to be mad at him, but i cant. and others can and i dont want them to be.

Cindi

It is called love.

a christmas excerpt.

2009-10-21T21:31:00.001-05:00

I remember one Christmas. I believe I was 6 or 7, making it 1994 or 1995.

Every year around Christmas, my mother’s side of the family would gather at my grandma’s house. We would always do a gift exchange of sorts. Nobody bought each other personal gifts—just the exchange.

Well, in 1994 (or 1995), my Uncle Mike pulled me into the kitchen. “I have something special for you,” he whispered. A wide grin spread across my face. Uncle Mike was my favorite relative, best friend, and one of my absolute favorite people in the world. He was my hero.

I looked at the floor on that Christmas night of 1995 (or 1994) and saw a large wrapped box. “It’s for you. Merry Christmas, David. I love you.” I smiled at him before unwrapping the package. Lying inside was a stuffed clown he had crocheted me. The clown had simple threaded Xs for eyes, plastic hands and feet, and a cute little hat. I pulled the clown out of the box and immediately drew him to my chest. I just squeezed him. “I love him,” I said.

I never named the clown growing up. He was always just “Mine.” I slept with him every night—even through most of high school. During my sophomore year at DePaul University, I decided that he needed a proper name. I chose Raymond immediately. Raymond was Mike’s middle name.

There was one time Uncle Mike came over to my house with his partner, Marty. Apparently my mom had told Mike that Raymond’s head was coming loose due to my excessive squeezing and loving. Uncle Mike crocheted a new one and came over to attach it. That’s the day he taught me how to crochet. Joy wanted to learn but Mike had a hard time teaching a left handed, so Marty taught her. That was great because Joy was Marty’s favorite. We all knew it.

When Uncle Mike passed away, I inherited all of his crocheting hooks, including the 24 karat gold hook he used to make Raymond. I don’t really remember how to crochet. But I’d like to learn again.

Over the years Uncle Mike spoiled my family with his crocheting projects. Every year for Christmas, we hang our stockings he made. My mom, brother and I all have personalized afghans. He was working on Joy’s when he passed away. She still has the piece that he finished, though. He also made me a second clown, complete with wardrobe. I don’t know where that one is, though. I hate that I can’t find it.

Questions

2009-10-15T01:20:00.003-05:00

Sometimes, I don't blog because I don't know what to say. So I took this quiz on Facebook. And I'm cross-posting it here. Questions force me to think in a more focused manner.

I think everyone should leave a question they want me to answer honestly. Anything. You can even ask it anonymously. Ready? Go.

* Your most marked characteristic?
Passion, laziness and loyalty.

* The quality you most like in a man?
Honesty

* The quality you most like in a woman?
Drive

* What do you most value in your friends?
Honesty, communication, loyalty.

* What is your favorite occupation?
Singers....because I want to so badly... yet can't.

* What is your dream of happiness?
Love, a home, family and friends.

* What to your mind would be the greatest of misfortunes?
Losing my family.

* What would you like to be?
Infinite.

* In what country would you like to live?
France.

* What is your favorite color?
Black.

* What is your favorite flower?
Gerber Daisies.

* What is your favorite bird?
Certainly not pigeons, though they think they are.

* Who are your favorite prose writers?
Poe, Fitzgerald

* Who are your favoite poets?
Poe, Angelou, cummings, Whitman.

* Who is your favorite hero of fiction?
Cyrano, definitely. Tied for second are Atticus Finch and Jay Gatsby.

* Who are your favorite heroines of fiction?
Harper from Angels in America. And "Those who are more than women without ceasing to be womanly; everything that is tender, poetic, pure and in every way beautiful"

* Who are your favorite painters?
Dali, Pollack

* Who are your heroes in real life?
My mother, my father, Sam Ganster, Kathy Pingel

* Who are your favorite heroines of history?
Corrie ten Boom.

* What is it you most dislike?
Gender roles, dishonesty, ambivalence.

* What historical figures do you most despise?
Anyone that ever believed themselves to be better than others.

* What event in military history do you most admire?
To be honest, I haven't a clue.

* What reform do you most admire?
Civil Rights Movement.

* What natural gift would you most like to possess?
Self-confidence.

* How would you like to die?
For a cause.

* What is your present state of mind?
Exhausted.

* To what faults do you feel most indulgent?
Laziness

* What is your motto?
You live, you learn, and you continue living.

Work in Progress

2009-09-25T10:54:00.006-05:00

What is my voice? Where will it take me? More importantly, how will it change the world?

I've been asking myself these questions a lot lately. I've been reading The Meaning of Matthew: My Son's Murder in Laramie and a World Transformed by Judy Shepard. I have always felt a strong kinship to Matthew Shepard. Even before I directed The Laramie Project. It is why I directed Laramie. I have read all the newspaper and magazine articles. I have read personal accounts from Matthew's professors, friends, parents--everything available. With every new detail, every new perspective...I feel more weight on my shoulder.

Matthew Shepard has made more of an impact on the gay rights movement than just about anyone--except Harvey Milk. Because of his murder. Why must someone die to make an impact? What would Matthew have grown up to become? He was on his way to becoming an activist, so I guess in a way, his death completed his dream.

But I'm not dead. I'm very much alive and I still have a voice. What can I do? How can I make an impact on the world? I know I'm going to. I know that, in some way, I'm going to help make the world a better place. But how?

I turned 21 this week. And I have never felt more lost. I'm homeless, thousands of dollars in debt, taking a leave of absence from the school I love, and have done serious damage to some of my closest relationships. How do I rebuild my life?

I keep finding myself lost in the world of Angels in America. So many quotes. "The world only spins forward." Everything I do, every action, every circumstance is perpetuating the world forward. I've got to keep moving. "This man loves, but his love is worth nothing." I need to actively show myself true. To my friends, to my family, and to my personal relationship. I refuse to be an empty pot of love. "The great work begins." My life, and the change it will bring the world, is just beginning. I'm a work in progress.

Makin' the Mosaic

2009-09-09T23:07:00.000-05:00

I have hit rock bottom.

My living situation, financial situation, friendships and education are all in pieces right now. I keep telling myself that the smaller the pieces, the more beautiful the mosaic. It helps sometimes. But not all the time. I wish it did.

I wish that things could go back to the way they were in May. I wish that I hadn’t screwed up. I wish that I could stay at the 917. I wish so many things.

I’m sorry. I know that doesn’t begin to mean anything. But I’m sorry. For everything. I’m sorry.

creatively blocked.

2009-08-23T03:20:00.002-05:00

im creatively blocked.

i dont know what is inside me that is trying desperately to be expressed. but theres something there. something begging for attention. attention from me or from others, im not sure. but its there.

i need to do something. i need to write something. paint. take a picture. do a show. do something. anything.

do you ever get that feeling where you think youll never do anything with your area of interest because everyone else has already done it? i want to direct great plays. but sometimes i feel theyve all already been done. why would i restage a show that has already been perfected? i want to write a play. but i feel like everything i want to say about the world and the human condition has been said before. i want to take a picture. but i feel like i know nothing about photography and everything that i want to capture has either been captured or is not capable of being captured.

does the world need one more take on the same idea or theme?

Purple Summer

2009-08-16T01:51:00.003-05:00

Dear Friend,

Lately, I’ve been obsessed with a song called “The Song of Purple Summer.” It is from the musical Spring Awakening, which I was fortunate to see in New York with the original Broadway cast and then once more in Chicago on tour. The song is one of the most beautiful musical finales I have ever heard, and the lyrics hit home right now.

A summer's day

A mother sings

A song of purple summer

Through the heart of everything

And heaven waits

So close it seems

To show her child the wonders

Of a world beyond her dreams

The earth will wave with corn

The day so white, so warm

And mares will neigh

With stallions that they mate

Foals they've borne

And all shall know the wonder

Of purple summer

And so I wait

The swallow brings

A song of what's to follow

The glory of the spring

The fences sway

The porches swing

The clouds begin to thunder

Crickets wander, murmuring

The earth will wave with corn

The day so white, so warm

And mares will neigh

With stallions that they mate

Foals they've borne

And all shall know the wonder

I will sing the song of purple summer

All shall know the wonder

I will sing the song of purple summer

And all shall know the wonder

Of purple summer

The song has so many beautiful metaphors. The first is the Purple Summer, which is a type of flower that blossoms after harsh circumstances. It is common to find in cemeteries, actually. Sort of morbid. But hauntingly beautiful.

The next image is the corn. I’m from Iowa. I like corn. But more importantly, the idea is that no matter what, corn will stay standing. Even if there are no ears, it stands. Even in moments of death, it stays standing.

And finally, the image of passing from spring to summer. Change. New beginning. Throughout the show, spring is a metaphor for childhood/teenage/adolescence and summer represents adulthood.

Three beautiful images. All applying to my life. I’m going through some hard times right now. Some serious financial concerns are at the top of my stress list, as well as the health of some loved ones and the fear of death, and relationship stress. These have begun to weigh down on me and I’m trying my hardest not to be depressed. I’m trying to remain standing tall. I’m trying really hard.

I’ve also thought a lot lately about my personality. My friends mean the world to me. So much that I would gladly push aside anything I’m going through to help out a friend in need. It has always been one of my favorite qualities about myself. But when does it become unhealthy to push away your own needs? I’m not a superhero. I cannot save everyone. I need to realize that. I need to realize that I have things in my own life that need worked out. I need to pay attention to those issues. I also need to start doing things for myself.

There is so much more that I could say, but already I feel like this is a heap of mumbled garbage. I don’t even think that analogy made sense/worked. So I’m just going to post it. Without rereading it. It cleared my mind for a little bit and that’s what I need.

Love Always,

David

Mixed Emotions

2009-07-28T02:19:00.004-05:00

"So, this is my life. And I want you to know that I am both happy and sad and I'm still trying to figure out how that could be." -The Perks of Being a Wallflower.

I've been on an emotional rollercoaster lately. There are times when I am the happiest fella in all the world. Then there are times when I feel completely alone and depressed. It is really starting to bother me how quickly these moods can shift.

I am not in a good place financially. I need a lot of money and I need it quickly. I've had a job for a month now, and while it is the best job in the entire world, I am just not making enough to pay everything that needs to be paid. This situation continues to make me feel inferior, broken, and hopeless.

I have also recently been hurt by a couple of people who are very dear to me. Things have been said behind my back that I do not appreciate. Things said by people I love and who love me. Things said after I have already asked them not to. Things said with the full knowledge of how much I'd be hurt. They went so far as to mention how much I would be hurt if I found out. I think a good rule of thumb is, if you know it is going to hurt them, don't say it. Period. Regardless of who you're saying it to, when or how. Sharing information with people that should not receive that information is betrayal. Feeling betrayed by someone you love is one of the worst feelings I have ever felt. Feeling alone in the sense that I can't confront the person for several reasons is almost as bad.

On the flip side, I have a lot going for me. I really mean it when I say I have the best job in the entire world. I work with some of the best people I've ever met. I'm selling products that I love. I'm getting to interact with people--complete strangers--in a way you cannot find at other retail environments. It continues to amaze me how much people open up to the employees at LUSH. I've had customers tell me of their abusive childhood--when they haven't told anybody else. I've had people share their worry for family ones in difficult situations. Other employees have had similar interactions--cancer patients sharing their needs and fears, etc. These conversations are often humorous, sometimes heartbreaking, but they always open my heart.

I have reached a great place with Peter. We have always been on good terms since the breakup. But we are on a great page right now, and I am so thankful for that. The other night we had an incredible heart-to-heart and were able to say things we haven't had a chance to. Things that needed to be said and needed to be heard. We have a better understanding of why it is so difficult to let go in some areas. We are figuring out better ways to make our friendship work. We agree that ending our friendship is neither appropriate, necessary or possible. For that, I could not be happier. It was wonderful to sit and talk about the love we shared--and will continue to share. I completely believe that when you truly love someone, when you give them a piece of your heart, they will always have that. I loved Peter more than anything, and I will always love him. No matter what happens in our futures, I know that he will always hold a piece of my heart and I will hold a piece of his. If someone's going to be walking out there holding a piece of my heart, I'm happy it is Peter.

Peter has some great things happening in his life. His first musical [the one he worked on with Stephen Sondheim, Kristin Chenoweth and Gavin Creel] is getting a professional recording with some amazing Broadway talent. That is just incredible. I'm so happy that his talent is being recognized and will soon be available for all to hear! That just makes my heart smile.

Things are going extremely well with Jacob, too. He is adorable, incredibly attractive, extremely witty and intelligent and one of the funniest people I know. Completely and utterly charming and worthy of affection. I hate that he is currently living in New York, but such is life. Only a little over a month until he returns to Chicago and I could not be more excited. I cannot wait to see how our relationship develops. I want nothing more than for him to return so I can be with him.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm waiting for the end of the tunnel. There's this part in my favorite book, The Perks of Being a Wallflower, where Charlie describes feeling infinite when he drives through this tunnel. The inside of the tunnel isn't awful. There are wonderful things about it. There's a calm, a beauty and a significance. But there's an eagerness for more. For the end. That is what I'm waiting for. I am waiting for the end of the tunnel--when I am no longer feeling betrayed by loved ones. When I am no longer stressing about money and feeling less about myself for it. That day will come soon.

"As you enter the tunnel, the wind gets sucked away, and you squint from the lights overhead. When you adjust to the lights, you can see the other side in the distance just as the sound of the radio fades to nothing because the waves just can't reach. Then, you're in the middle of the tunnel, and everything becomes a calm dream. As you see the opening get closer, you just can't get there fast enough. And finally, just when you think you'll never get there, you see the opening right in front of you. And the radio comes back even louder than you remember it. And the wind is waiting. And you fly out of the tunnel onto the bridge. And there it is. The city. A million lights and buildings and everything seems as exciting as the first time you saw it."

The Lottery

2009-07-06T21:48:00.002-05:00

The Lottery by Shirley Jackson

The morning of June 27th was clear and sunny, with the fresh warmth of a full-summer day; the flowers were blossoming profusely and the grass was richly green. The people of the village began to gather in the square, between the post office and the bank, around ten o`clock; in some towns there were so many people that the lottery took two days and had to be started on June 20th. but in this village, where there were only about three hundred people, the whole lottery took less than two hours, so it could begin at ten o`clock in the morning and still be through in time to allow the villagers to get home for noon dinner.

The children assembled first, of course. School was recently over for the summer, and the feeling of liberty sat uneasily on most of them; they tended to gather together quietly for a while before they broke into boisterous play. and their talk was still of the classroom and the teacher, of books and reprimands. Bobby Martin had already stuffed his pockets full of stones, and the other boys soon followed his example, selecting the smoothest and roundest stones; Bobby and Harry Jones and Dickie Delacroix-- the villagers pronounced this name "Dellacroy"--eventually made a great pile of stones in one corner of the square and guarded it against the raids of the other boys. The girls stood aside, talking among themselves, looking over their shoulders at the boys. and the very small children rolled in the dust or clung to the hands of their older brothers or sisters.

Soon the men began to gather. surveying their own children, speaking of planting and rain, tractors and taxes. They stood together, away from the pile of stones in the corner, and their jokes were quiet and they smiled rather than laughed. The women, wearing faded house dresses and sweaters, came shortly after their menfolk. They greeted one another and exchanged bits of gossip as they went to join their husbands. Soon the women, standing by their husbands, began to call to their children, and the children came reluctantly, having to be called four or five times. Bobby Martin ducked under his mother`s grasping hand and ran, laughing, back to the pile of stones. His father spoke up sharply, and Bobby came quickly and took his place between his father and his oldest brother.

The lottery was conducted--as were the square dances, the teen club, the Halloween program--by Mr. Summers. who had time and energy to devote to civic activities. He was a round-faced, jovial man and he ran the coal business, and people were sorry for him. because he had no children and his wife was a scold. When he arrived in the square, carrying the black wooden box, there was a murmur of conversation among the villagers, and he waved and called. "Little late today, folks." The postmaster, Mr. Graves, followed him, carrying a three- legged stool, and the stool was put in the center of the square and Mr. Summers set the black box down on it. The villagers kept their distance, leaving a space between themselves and the stool. and when Mr. Summers said, "Some of you fellows want to give me a hand?" there was a hesitation before two men. Mr. Martin and his oldest son, Baxter. came forward to hold the box steady on the stool while Mr. Summers stirred up the papers inside it.

The original paraphernalia for the lottery had been lost long ago, and the black box now resting on the stool had been put into use even before Old Man Warner, the oldest man in town, was born. Mr. Summers spoke frequently to the villagers about making a new box, but no one liked to upset even as much tradition as was represented by the black box. There was a story that the present box had been made with some pieces of the box that had preceded it, the one that had been constructed when the first people settled down to make a village here. Every year, after the lottery, Mr. Summers began talking again about a new box, but every year the subject was allowed to fade off without anything`s being done. The black box grew shabbier each year: by now it was no longer completely black but splintered badly along one side to show the original wood color, and in some places faded or stained.

Mr. Martin and his oldest son, Baxter, held the black box securely on the stool until Mr. Summers had stirred the papers thoroughly with his hand. Because so much of the ritual had been forgotten or discarded, Mr. Summers had been successful in having slips of paper substituted for the chips of wood that had been used for generations. Chips of wood, Mr. Summers had argued. had been all very well when the village was tiny, but now that the population was more than three hundred and likely to keep on growing, it was necessary to use something that would fit more easily into he black box. The night before the lottery, Mr. Summers and Mr. Graves made up the slips of paper and put them in the box, and it was then taken to the safe of Mr. Summers` coal company and locked up until Mr. Summers was ready to take it to the square next morning. The rest of the year, the box was put way, sometimes one place, sometimes another; it had spent one year in Mr. Graves`s barn and another year underfoot in the post office. and sometimes it was set on a shelf in the Martin grocery and left there.

There was a great deal of fussing to be done before Mr. Summers declared the lottery open. There were the lists to make up--of heads of families. heads of households in each family. members of each household in each family. There was the proper swearing-in of Mr. Summers by the postmaster, as the official of the lottery; at one time, some people remembered, there had been a recital of some sort, performed by the official of the lottery, a perfunctory. tuneless chant that had been rattled off duly each year; some people believed that the official of the lottery used to stand just so when he said or sang it, others believed that he was supposed to walk among the people, but years and years ago this p3rt of the ritual had been allowed to lapse. There had been, also, a ritual salute, which the official of the lottery had had to use in addressing each person who came up to draw from the box, but this also had changed with time, until now it was felt necessary only for the official to speak to each person approaching. Mr. Summers was very good at all this; in his clean white shirt and blue jeans. with one hand resting carelessly on the black box. he seemed very proper and important as he talked interminably to Mr. Graves and the Martins.

Just as Mr. Summers finally left off talking and turned to the assembled villagers, Mrs. Hutchinson came hurriedly along the path to the square, her sweater thrown over her shoulders, and slid into place in the back of the crowd. "Clean forgot what day it was," she said to Mrs. Delacroix, who stood next to her, and they both laughed softly. "Thought my old man was out back stacking wood," Mrs. Hutchinson went on. "and then I looked out the window and the kids was gone, and then I remembered it was the twenty-seventh and came a-running." She dried her hands on her apron, and Mrs. Delacroix said, "You`re in time, though. They`re still talking away up there."

Mrs. Hutchinson craned her neck to see through the crowd and found her husband and children standing near the front. She tapped Mrs. Delacroix on the arm as a farewell and began to make her way through the crowd. The people separated good-humoredly to let her through: two or three people said. in voices just loud enough to be heard across the crowd, "Here comes your, Missus, Hutchinson," and "Bill, she made it after all." Mrs. Hutchinson reached her husband, and Mr. Summers, who had been waiting, said cheerfully. "Thought we were going to have to get on without you, Tessie." Mrs. Hutchinson said. grinning, "Wouldn`t have me leave m`dishes in the sink, now, would you. Joe?," and soft laughter ran through the crowd as the people stirred back into position after Mrs. Hutchinson`s arrival.

"Well, now." Mr. Summers said soberly, "guess we better get started, get this over with, so`s we can go back to work. Anybody ain`t here?"

"Dunbar." several people said. "Dunbar. Dunbar."

Mr. Summers consulted his list. "Clyde Dunbar." he said. "That`s right. He`s broke his leg, hasn`t he? Who`s drawing for him?"

"Me. I guess," a woman said. and Mr. Summers turned to look at her. "Wife draws for her husband." Mr. Summers said. "Don`t you have a grown boy to do it for you, Janey?" Although Mr. Summers and everyone else in the village knew the answer perfectly well, it was the business of the official of the lottery to ask such questions formally. Mr. Summers waited with an expression of polite interest while Mrs. Dunbar answered.

"Horace`s not but sixteen vet." Mrs. Dunbar said regretfully. "Guess I gotta fill in for the old man this year."

"Right." Sr. Summers said. He made a note on the list he was holding. Then he asked, "Watson boy drawing this year?"

A tall boy in the crowd raised his hand. "Here," he said. "I m drawing for my mother and me." He blinked his eyes nervously and ducked his head as several voices in the crowd said thin#s like "Good fellow, lack." and "Glad to see your mother`s got a man to do it."

"Well," Mr. Summers said, "guess that`s everyone. Old Man Warner make it?"

"Here," a voice said. and Mr. Summers nodded.

A sudden hush fell on the crowd as Mr. Summers cleared his throat and looked at the list. "All ready?" he called. "Now, I`ll read the names--heads of families first--and the men come up and take a paper out of the box. Keep the paper folded in your hand without looking at it until everyone has had a turn. Everything clear?"

The people had done it so many times that they only half listened to the directions: most of them were quiet. wetting their lips. not looking around. Then Mr. Summers raised one hand high and said, "Adams." A man disengaged himself from the crowd and came forward. "Hi. Steve." Mr. Summers said. and Mr. Adams said. "Hi. Joe." They grinned at one another humorlessly and nervously. Then Mr. Adams reached into the black box and took out a folded paper. He held it firmly by one corner as he turned and went hastily back to his place in the crowd. where he stood a little apart from his family. not looking down at his hand.

"Allen." Mr. Summers said. "Anderson.... Bentham."

"Seems like there`s no time at all between lotteries any more." Mrs. Delacroix said to Mrs. Graves in the back row.

"Seems like we got through with the last one only last week."

"Time sure goes fast.-- Mrs. Graves said.

"Clark.... Delacroix"

"There goes my old man." Mrs. Delacroix said. She held her breath while her husband went forward.

"Dunbar," Mr. Summers said, and Mrs. Dunbar went steadily to the box while one of the women said. "Go on. Janey," and another said, "There she goes."

"We`re next." Mrs. Graves said. She watched while Mr. Graves came around from the side of the box, greeted Mr. Summers gravely and selected a slip of paper from the box. By now, all through the crowd there were men holding the small folded papers in their large hand. turning them over and over nervously Mrs. Dunbar and her two sons stood together, Mrs. Dunbar holding the slip of paper.

"Harburt.... Hutchinson."

"Get up there, Bill," Mrs. Hutchinson said. and the people near her laughed.

"Jones."

"They do say," Mr. Adams said to Old Man Warner, who stood next to him, "that over in the north village they`re talking of giving up the lottery."

Old Man Warner snorted. "Pack of crazy fools," he said. "Listening to the young folks, nothing`s good enough for them. Next thing you know, they`ll be wanting to go back to living in caves, nobody work any more, live hat way for a while. Used to be a saying about `Lottery in June, corn be heavy soon.` First thing you know, we`d all be eating stewed chickweed and acorns. There`s always been a lottery," he added petulantly. "Bad enough to see young Joe Summers up there joking with everybody."

"Some places have already quit lotteries." Mrs. Adams said.

"Nothing but trouble in that," Old Man Warner said stoutly. "Pack of young fools."

"Martin." And Bobby Martin watched his father go forward. "Overdyke.... Percy."

"I wish they`d hurry," Mrs. Dunbar said to her older son. "I wish they`d hurry."

"They`re almost through," her son said.

"You get ready to run tell Dad," Mrs. Dunbar said.

Mr. Summers called his own name and then stepped forward precisely and selected a slip from the box. Then he called, "Warner."

"Seventy-seventh year I been in the lottery," Old Man Warner said as he went through the crowd. "Seventy-seventh time."

"Watson" The tall boy came awkwardly through the crowd. Someone said, "Don`t be nervous, Jack," and Mr. Summers said, "Take your time, son."

"Zanini."

After that, there was a long pause, a breathless pause, until Mr. Summers. holding his slip of paper in the air, said, "All right, fellows." For a minute, no one moved, and then all the slips of paper were opened. Suddenly, all the women began to speak at once, saving. "Who is it?," "Who`s got it?," "Is it the Dunbars?," "Is it the Watsons?" Then the voices began to say, "It`s Hutchinson. It`s Bill," "Bill Hutchinson`s got it."

"Go tell your father," Mrs. Dunbar said to her older son.

People began to look around to see the Hutchinsons. Bill Hutchinson was standing quiet, staring down at the paper in his hand. Suddenly. Tessie Hutchinson shouted to Mr. Summers. "You didn`t give him time enough to take any paper he wanted. I saw you. It wasn`t fair!"

"Be a good sport, Tessie." Mrs. Delacroix called, and Mrs. Graves said, "All of us took the same chance."

"Shut up, Tessie," Bill Hutchinson said.

"Well, everyone," Mr. Summers said, "that was done pretty fast, and now we`ve got to be hurrying a little more to get done in time." He consulted his next list. "Bill," he said, "you draw for the Hutchinson family. You got any other households in the Hutchinsons?"

"There`s Don and Eva," Mrs. Hutchinson yelled. "Make them take their chance!"

"Daughters draw with their husbands` families, Tessie," Mr. Summers said gently. "You know that as well as anyone else."

"It wasn`t fair," Tessie said.

"I guess not, Joe." Bill Hutchinson said regretfully. "My daughter draws with her husband`s family; that`s only fair. And I`ve got no other family except the kids."

"Then, as far as drawing for families is concerned, it`s you," Mr. Summers said in explanation, "and as far as drawing for households is concerned, that`s you, too. Right?"

"Right," Bill Hutchinson said.

"How many kids, Bill?" Mr. Summers asked formally.

"Three," Bill Hutchinson said.

"There`s Bill, Jr., and Nancy, and little Dave. And Tessie and me."

"All right, then," Mr. Summers said. "Harry, you got their tickets back?"

Mr. Graves nodded and held up the slips of paper. "Put them in the box, then," Mr. Summers directed. "Take Bill`s and put it in."

"I think we ought to start over," Mrs. Hutchinson said, as quietly as she could. "I tell you it wasn`t fair. You didn`t give him time enough to choose. Everybody saw that."

Mr. Graves had selected the five slips and put them in the box. and he dropped all the papers but those onto the ground. where the breeze caught them and lifted them off.

"Listen, everybody," Mrs. Hutchinson was saying to the people around her.

"Ready, Bill?" Mr. Summers asked. and Bill Hutchinson, with one quick glance around at his wife and children. nodded.

"Remember," Mr. Summers said. "take the slips and keep them folded until each person has taken one. Harry, you help little Dave." Mr. Graves took the hand of the little boy, who came willingly with him up to the box. "Take a paper out of the box, Davy." Mr. Summers said. Davy put his hand into the box and laughed. "Take just one paper." Mr. Summers said. "Harry, you hold it for him." Mr. Graves took the child`s hand and removed the folded paper from the tight fist and held it while little Dave stood next to him and looked up at him wonderingly.

"Nancy next," Mr. Summers said. Nancy was twelve, and her school friends breathed heavily as she went forward switching her skirt, and took a slip daintily from the box "Bill, Jr.," Mr. Summers said, and Billy, his face red and his feet overlarge, near knocked the box over as he got a paper out. "Tessie," Mr. Summers said. She hesitated for a minute, looking around defiantly. and then set her lips and went up to the box. She snatched a paper out and held it behind her.

"Bill," Mr. Summers said, and Bill Hutchinson reached into the box and felt around, bringing his hand out at last with the slip of paper in it.

The crowd was quiet. A girl whispered, "I hope it`s not Nancy," and the sound of the whisper reached the edges of the crowd.

"It`s not the way it used to be." Old Man Warner said clearly. "People ain`t the way they used to be."

"All right," Mr. Summers said. "Open the papers. Harry, you open little Dave`s."

Mr. Graves opened the slip of paper and there was a general sigh through the crowd as he held it up and everyone could see that it was blank. Nancy and Bill. Jr.. opened theirs at the same time. and both beamed and laughed. turning around to the crowd and holding their slips of paper above their heads.

"Tessie," Mr. Summers said. There was a pause, and then Mr. Summers looked at Bill Hutchinson, and Bill unfolded his paper and showed it. It was blank.

"It`s Tessie," Mr. Summers said, and his voice was hushed. "Show us her paper. Bill."

Bill Hutchinson went over to his wife and forced the slip of paper out of her hand. It had a black spot on it, the black spot Mr. Summers had made the night before with the heavy pencil in the coal company office. Bill Hutchinson held it up, and there was a stir in the crowd.

"All right, folks." Mr. Summers said. "Let`s finish quickly."

Although the villagers had forgotten the ritual and lost the original black box, they still remembered to use stones. The pile of stones the boys had made earlier was ready; there were stones on the ground with the blowing scraps of paper that had come out of the box Delacroix selected a stone so large she had to pick it up with both hands and turned to Mrs. Dunbar. "Come on," she said. "Hurry up."

Mr. Dunbar had small stones in both hands, and she said. gasping for breath. "I can`t run at all. You`ll have to go ahead and I`ll catch up with you."

The children had stones already. And someone gave little Davy Hutchinson few pebbles.

Tessie Hutchinson was in the center of a cleared space by now, and she held her hands out desperately as the villagers moved in on her. "It isn`t fair," she said. A stone hit her on the side of the head. Old Man Warner was saying, "Come on, come on, everyone." Steve Adams was in the front of the crowd of villagers, with Mrs. Graves beside him.

"It isn`t fair, it isn`t right," Mrs. Hutchinson screamed, and then they were upon her.

Your closed minded thoughts won't leave me condemned.

2009-06-11T23:34:00.006-05:00

I am so lucky to have the family that I have. I love them all so much.

There's a composer named Scott Alan that I am obsessed with. He has a few CDs out that I highly recommend to anyone--but especially musical theatre fans. The music is a bit showtunish and it is performed by some of the best musical theatre stars out there: Eden Espinosa [Rent, Wicked, Brooklyn], Tracie Thoms [the Rent film], Heidi Blickenstaff [[title of show], The Little Mermaid, The Full Monty], Cheyenne Jackson [Xanadu, All Shook Up], Sutton Foster [Shrek, Little Women, Thoroughly Modern Millie, Drowsy Chaperone, Every Show Ever] and Jonathan Groff [Spring Awakening] are just SOME of the stars that sing his work. It really is brilliant.

There is one song in particular that hits me every time. It is absolutely beautiful. It is called "Blessing" and it is performed by Titus Burgess [The Little Mermaid, Guys and Dolls] and Jen Colella [High Fidelity]. Here are the lyrics:

I'm taken aback by allegations

I misdirected my life

I've changed, I'm a different man

How I love ain't right

But I only wish, you would understand

How our love is exactly, what God has planned

Just try to remember...

That I'm still your baby, your blood, have your eyes, have your smile,

I'm sorry this hurts you, I'm sorry this numbs you

But I'm not ashamed of this fire I've inflamed

I was given this gift to love from heaven's hands

Don't abandon me now for loving another man

All I ask is in time, you'll give me your blessing

I know deep down you love me, I could use that love right now

I know time heals the hurting, I just hope you'll come around

Cause I'm finally proud to state who I am

Your close-minded thoughts won't leave me condemned

And I'm sorry this hurts you...

But I'm still your baby, your blood, have your eyes, have your smile, and

Nothing has changed here, I'm still the same

You taught me to love with my heart, I still do

I was given this gift to love from heaven's hands

And I know this is not the life you had planned

But I ask that in time, you'll give me your blessing

Cause I couldn't remain living inside this lie,

Every day that I did more and more of me died

I'm just here to remind you

That I'm still your baby, your blood, have your eyes, have your smile,

I didn't mean to hurt you, I'm sorry your wounded

But I'm not ashamed of this fire I've inflamed

I was living this life for somebody else,

Now this is my chance to live it for myself

All I ask is in time, you'll give me your blessing

Give your blessing

Your blessing

This song makes me love my family and breaks my heart for all those who are not as fortunate as I have been. Coming out to my family was a rather difficult experience. For me. I know it was challenging for them, too. But my relationship with them couldn't be better. I love every member of my family more than life itself and would do anything for any of them. And I know they feel the same.

I know not everyone in my family shares my opinions on homosexuality. Some think it is a choice, others think not. Some think it is a sin, others think not. Some think gay people will burn in hell no matter what, others think not. But you know what the beautiful thing is? My family loves me. Regardless of what they think about my life, they love me. They love me for who I am. And I know they want me to be happy.

I am writing this because I recently noticed that one of my friends on Facebook joined a group called "NO GAY MARRIAGE IN IOWA!" I clicked on the group and saw that several friends of mine were in the group. Not just random people I met once that happen to be friends with me on Facebook, but actual friends that I grew up with and love and respect. I am all for people having their own opinion. If someone truly believes that same sex marriage shouldn't be legal, then please, have and keep that opinion. However, I'm trying to express the pain I feel when I sign onto Facebook and see negative, hateful comments toward homosexuality and same sex marriage posted by people who are my friends. Most of these people have negative views toward the issues because of their faith. I respect that. But that same faith, that same religion and that same God commands to love.

That is why my family rocks more than anyone. Because they are strong men and women of God and they are still able to love me, regardless of my sexuality.

Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins.

I Peter 4:8, NIV

My love.

2009-05-09T04:40:00.004-05:00

Let me introduce you to the greatest thing since sliced bread [which is great, but isn't so great that it needs to be the criterion which other great things are judged by]. Her name is Willemijn Verkaik. She does German musical theatre. I've included a few of her greatest performances for you. Please enjoy.

Somewhere Over the Rainbow

I've only cried twice because of this song. One was because Katelyn Epperly played Dorothy at the Des Moines Playhouse. The second time was during this video. Wait until after the musical interlude. Just wait.

Gutes Tun (No Good Deed)

This is from a rehearsal of when she played Elphaba in Wicked in Germany. A rehearsal. She's not in make up and she's wearing a rehearsal skirt. It is shot with two cameras and the sound goes in and out. Yet she is still the greatest Elphaba I've ever heard.

Ich Gehör Nur Mir

This is from a concert, but the song is from a wonderful musical named Elisabeth. I learned tonight that this show is one of the most popular musicals in Japan and Germany. It will premiere in London in the next couple years and hopefully will make its U.S premiere shortly after. Hopefully with her. The song translates to "I belong to me." I've included the lyrics below.

I will not give up my own self

Just to be with you

I will not be glad just to do

What I'm told to do

I'm not meant to be your property

No, I belong I me

If I want to reach for the stars

You can't hold me back

I want to take chances

Far off from the beaten track

Don't force me to be what I can't be

I belong to me

If you try to tame me

I will not obey

I'd rather leave you alone

If you try to change me

I must break away

To be what I am on my own

I'm freezing, I'm burning

I live without compromise

I'm growing, I'm learning

I'm ready to pay the price

I know it's not easy to be free

But I belong to me

I hate to be burdened

With duties that I despise

You know I can't stand

To be watched by a thousand eyes

I flee from the crowd in agony

I just belong to me

If you want to keep me

Don't hold me so tight

I can't give my life for your love

If you want to break me

I'll not even fight

I'll just fly away like a dove

I'm here when you need me

I live and I die with you

I'll share all your troubles

I'll laugh and I'll cry with you

You can blame me and bless me

But you cannot possess me

'Cause I belong to me

To me!

passion and learning

2009-05-09T04:10:00.005-05:00

I have always felt that my strongest attribute is my passion. I'm one of the most passionate people I know, and that is both a good and bad thing. Sometimes I get passionate over important issues that deserve my attention and energy, like The Laramie Project. Other times, my energy is wasted on little things, like American Idol.

Lately, I haven't been passionate about anything. I don't know if that is because I have a week to come up with a thousand bucks with no clue how I'm going to do it, or because I'm still trying to move on after a two and a half year relationship and am experiencing other complications in my personal/romantic life. Or maybe it's because I'm twenty years old and in college, and losing passion is expected. Or even required. Perhaps I am supposed to have these "dry moments" in order to for my passion to burn stronger at other times.

Regardless of the reason why my passion is weak, it is. And I do not like it. Not even a little bit. I've been doing my homework, but only enough to get by. I'm in a scene right now for my Performance class and I haven't even read the entire play [I have in the past, but not since starting this scene--which is necessary]. The show I'm dramaturging opens in a week and I could care less. Have I learned from this project? Yes. Do I think this experience as a dramaturg will make me a better director? Yes. Do I care? Not really, not at the moment. I am supposed to begin meetings with Phyllis for Raisin in the Sun next week [I am assistant directing] and I haven't read the play in a few years. I'm thrilled that I have the opportunity to AD such a great show, but thrill and passion are different.

I think it is utterly pathetic that since Laramie ended, the most passionate I've been about anything was Allison getting kicked off of Idol.

Maybe I am feeling this way because I realize I'm in a position where I'm learning. I'm learning so much about theatre and how to be a better director. Maybe I need to learn before I can get passionate about something. I don't know... Oh how I wish I could direct Laramie right now. Even in the few months since it was staged, I've learned so much. I can literally feel myself grow as a director. I've been observing many different directors through different relationships. Professors, directing students learning from professors through practice, directing students critiquing or giving notes to fellow directing students, actors frustrated with their directors, actors impressed by their directors, directors themselves, etc.

chaos

complete disorder or confusion

passion gained

passion lost

infatuation

confusion

frustration

friend

what's best for you

what's best for me

family

addiction

park

simply beautiful

perfect

A Way Back to Then

2009-05-02T15:53:00.005-05:00

Dancing in the backyard

Kool-aid moustache and butterfly wings

Hearing Andrea McArdle sing

From the hi-fi in the den

I've been waiting my whole life

To find a way back to then

I aimed for the sky

A nine-year-old can see so far

I'll conquer the world and be a star

I'll do it all by the time I'm ten

I would know that confidence

If I knew a way back to then

So I bailed on my hometown

And became a college theatre dork

I was eastbound and down

Moving to New York

So I crammed my life in a U-Haul

To find my part of it all

But the mundane sets in

We play by the rules

And plow through the days

The years take us miles away

From the time we wondered when

We'd find a way back to then

And when you least expect

Opportunity walks through the door

You suddenly connect

With the thing that you forgot

That you were looking for

And there you are

Right in the middle of what you love

With the craziest of company

You're having a kick-ass time

And being who you wanted to be in this world

You're that little girl

With her wings unfurled

Flying again

Back in your backyard dancing

I found a way back to then.

-[title of show], Heidi Blickenstaff

I'm still searching for my way back to then. I am having incredible opportunities and making wonderful connections in the great ol' city of Chicago. I'm already scheduled to work on three shows next year, including one outside of DePaul. I did The Laramie Project. I am seeing great shows and meeting fabulous people. But I miss Des Moines theatre. I miss the Playhouse a lot. I miss having a theatre company that is mine. I miss going to see shows and knowing everyone in them. I miss acting. I'm too terrified to audition for any shows in Chicago. A theatre company is doing BENT, which I love.... I missed the audition because I wasn't prepared to audition for a show again. They're still looking for one cast member, a very minor role, and I'm afraid to even audition for that. I just mine feeling "part of it all" like I did at the Playhouse [and all the Des Moines theatres, to be honest].

I also hate money. I only hate it because I don't have it. And I need it. A lot of it and very quickly. I'm not really quite sure how I'm going to get it. I've tried everything, really, that is legal and not immoral. I have a PayPal account if anyone wants to anonymously donate a couple thou, I'd be greatly appreciated!! Haha [but seriously, if you wanted to. You could.].

Stress

2009-04-19T10:12:00.003-05:00

So if anyone knows of a legal way to make a lot of money very quickly, please let me know. I am in such a bind right now and need money for rent and security deposits. ASAP. Any suggestions or ideas would be greatly appreciated.

Marriage

2009-04-03T08:53:00.002-05:00

I can now get married in my home state of Iowa.

The Iowa Supreme Court announced today that, in the state of Iowa, marriage is no longer only between one man and one woman. Iowa is the first midwestern, and fourth total, state to legalize same sex marriage.

I can't even begin to describe what I'm feeling. I'm lying in bed, crying, with a huge smile on my face.

In Des Moines

2009-03-27T11:02:00.002-05:00

I am currently sitting in my hotel room in Des Moines, Iowa. I am here with my production of The Laramie Project, which performs tonight at 7:00 at the Des Moines Social Club. Chad is up and about, but Mitchel and Cal are still sleeping. No idea about the girls next door. I have to say, I'm a little surprised that all of the cast members are still alive and well. It makes me very happy.

It is so weird being here. Obviously, Des Moines isn't a weird place for me. It is my hometown and I actually miss it quite a lot. I've been back to visit many times, but this time is different. Perhaps it is because I have my 8 cast members and 1 groupie with me, most of them are in Iowa for the first time. This is the farthest west Jess has ever travelled. She texted me as we crossed the Mississippi: "Crossing the Mississippi was an incredibly spiritual moment for me." I love that.

Last night we had a dress rehearsal. It was also the first time we had ever seen the space. I love the space. I think it is perfect for what we're doing and the facilities are wonderful! Art gallery, bar, theatre... it's great. I love that when I did this show in Chicago, we performed in a great hall of the building where they filmed scenes from Richie Rich. Very beautiful, old, church-like building. Now we are performing in a very large black box theatre. The show works well in both places and I LOVE it.

Today I think we'll be going to HuHot for lunch. I'm excited. Vicente and I also want to take them to the Playhouse, so they can see where we grew up theatrically. I want to go--I miss the Playhouse a lot, and since it is opening for Wayside, not many Playhouse people will be there--if any!

I shouldn't be blogging right now. I have to iron costumes, print programs [which I already did but left in Chicago!], and finish my actor packet for Flow My Tears. I spent a few hours on Wednesday finishing it. Then when I went to save, Apple Pages told me my free trial was over and I did not have permission to save. I planned on copying/pasting it to a Word document, but when I clicked "Ok" the whole program quit. I lost three hours of work and the thing is due...well, yesterday. FML. I will be sure to blog, in more detail, the adventures of the Boogle Faces in Dez-Moin-Ezz later.

Happy birthday, Uncle Mike.

2009-03-21T17:42:00.003-05:00

Uncle Mike,

Today is your birthday. I wish you were still here to celebrate it.

I love you and miss you so much. I try to think what my life like would be like now if you were still alive. So much would be different… I’d have so many more memories.

I wish that you could come to all my shows. I know you would’ve. I know that you would’ve been someone I could vent to when things were getting too stressful. You would be so proud of me for Laramie. I know you would be. You would've driven to Chicago to see the show. I bet you would've come for both performances too. I know that you'd be advertising the Des Moines performance to everyone. You would love the show, too.

I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately, Uncle Mike. I was watching Peter Pan—I know that was your favorite. I'm planning on getting a tattoo in your memory this May--the anniversary of your death. It is going to be a cluster of stars on my back. The second star to the right will have your initials. Get it? Second star to the right is Neverland! I think it's pretty awesome. I have to credit to my best friend Jubie. His name is Jason, but I call him Jubie. He loves Peter Pan too and thought of the tattoo design. I'm stealing it, though.

I still have all of your crocheting needles sitting on my dresser—right next to my clown. The first one you made me. The second one is still at home in Des Moines. I’m wearing your wedding band on a chain around my neck. It fits Peter’s ring finger perfectly. I wish you could meet him. You’d really like him. He treats me perfectly. He is beautiful on the outside and inside—that’s rare. I love him more than anything. He is a composer. He writes musical theatre. His first musical was sung by Kristin Chenoweth—you don’t really know who she is, she wasn’t famous until after you passed on. She’s big, though. It’s going to get a professional recording with two Broadway actors. I’m really proud of him.

This year at the Christmas gathering for our family, Aunt Dena gave me a special gift. She came up to me and said, “Come here, I have something special for you.” It made me think of you when you gave me my clown that one Christmas, years and years ago at Grandma’s house. I can remember that day so perfectly. I even remember you were wearing a black sweatshirt. I was wearing a blue t-shirt and jeans. You brought me into the kitchen when everyone else was just eating and talking. There was a big box sitting there with a bow on top. I remember taking the clown into my arms and hugging it, then hugging you. I started to collect clowns after that… stickers, pictures, dolls, magnets….anything with clowns. I still love clowns.

Remember that one time you came over to my house to fix it? I had hugged and squeezed it so much the head was coming off. You crotched a new head and came over to attach it for me. That was the day you taught me how to crotchet. Marty taught Joy, because she was left handed and it was difficult for you to teach her.

I remember you used to have this can of “mints” at your house. There was one time when you, Marty, my mom and dad were sitting at the table talking….maybe you were playing cards. I came over because you needed help opening the can of mints. I finally opened it, to a pop up snake shooting out! I loved it.

I remember Spunky. Every Christmas we would get a card from you, Marty and Spunky. Spunky even signed it. I have a dog now, Parker. He is three quarters toy poodle, one quarter shihtzu. He's adorable. You'd love him. I think Spunky and Parker would be good friends, too.

You collected unicorns. You had a lot. When you died, I got them all. They are all at home now.

I remember the night you died. Well, I remember the week you died, to be honest. I remember spending a ton of time at the Kavanagh House. I remember when you hugged me and said, “I love you.” You never spoke again. I love you. I love you so much Uncle Mike.

I love you.

Love,

David

--

Left Photo: Uncle Mike on my 1st birthday, September 23, 1989

Right Photo: Uncle Mike saying his last words, "I love you." The week before he passed away.

Best of YouTube

2009-03-20T20:15:00.007-05:00

These are some videos on YouTube that I have been obsessed with lately:

1. Jasmine Sullivan, age 11, singing "Home" in her school's production of The Wiz

2. Random Guy on Guitar, singing 32 songs in 8 minutes. Brilliant. "Mamma Mia" and "Let It Be" are my favorites, by far.

3. The late Natasha Richardson, singing "Maybe This Time" from her Tony-winning performance of Sally Bowles in the revival of Cabaret.

4. One of the best scenes from one of my favorite movies, To Wong Foo, Thanks for Everything, Julie Newmar. It stars Wesley Snipes, Patrick Swayze and John Leguizamo as three drag queens who get stuck in rural Nebraska on their way to a drag competition in Hollywood.

Random Thoughts by Day

2009-03-18T23:51:00.005-05:00

I was talking to my good friend Sasha tonight about a few interesting things...

We talked about the horrible irony related to dreams and success. More specifically, how those who wish to pursue a successful career in the arts normally know exactly what they want in life but don't know how to achieve the success they dream of. Meanwhile, all those who don't know what they want in life can more or less pick up any career path that has guidelines on how to be successful. Doesn't that suck? But then again, I used to think I knew exactly what I wanted for my career and now I'm not too sure. I still will pursue theatre, obviously. But do I want to be a high school theatre director/teacher? I'd love to be able to give students a passion for theatre. However, I still have dreams of directing on Broadway and winning the Tony for best director. I also have recently dreamed of opening my own children's theatre that focuses on bringing theatre opportunities to children of all ages--especially the high school bracket that is so often ignored by theatre companies. Then, in a nontheatre area of possibilities, I have started revisiting the idea of doing something related to child abuse victims. I had such a burden and passion for them in Des Moines. I actually did something about it. I literally saw lives saved through HOPE! Troupe and I miss it. Now, I think about kids who are being abused, but I haven't done anything about it since I graduated high school...

I'm watching Enchanted right now. I really think it is a wonderful movie and would transfer well to stage. But I have one major issue with this movie. Animated Amy Adams has hair past her butt. Live action Amy Adams' hair only goes to her midback. Sigh.

I'm very upset about Natasha Richardson's death. She was such a wonderful actress and I can't believe she's passed away. I've been listening to the recording of Cabaret when she won her Tony. And wishing I could've seen her in Streetcar or Closer. I just hate seeing talented people pass before their careers are over. Jason read me part of an article that talked about the possibility of Natasha and her mother reuniting for A Little Night Music revival on Broadway, after the Roundabout production they did. Her poor family. Can you imagine her children? 12 and 13 years old and witnessing the ski accident? So sad.

So my production of The Laramie Project is traveling to Des Moines next week. I could not be more thrilled, anxious, proud, and scared. I can't believe that it is actually happening. That my cast is willing to sacrifice their spring break to travel to Des Moines to perform for my family and loved ones. I'm anxious because there is a lot to do and I'm sure I'm going to miss something in the planning stages! Luckily, I have the best friends in the world. I made a few requests for people to hang up posters. By the time I could tell them that I had emailed them the posters, they already had them printed off and ready to hang! I'm quite bummed that scheduling has been so cruel to us. It is opening of Sideways Stories at the Playhouse. Which is great because it allows some of the Millie cast to come see it. It also prevents Ron, Kathy and Kevin from coming to see it and I would love for them to be able to experience this with me. John's daughter is opening a new show in NY, so naturally he is visiting her to see a preview. Oh, well. It will still be a great performance with lots of people in attendance. I am slightly terrified that everything's going to go wrong and all my theatre peers will judge my capabilities based on this alone. [Side note: In Enchanted, they just showed the RENT billboard in Times Square. Jenna Guy is at the show right now on the tour. She texted me: "Understudy for SOL. White and skinny...should be interesting..." How funny!] Anyway, bringing the show to Des Moines is just so exciting!

Sasha and I also talked about how people can't help but to associate music with certain periods of their lives or specific memories. I think you all should comment with an example of a song that you always associate something with.

American Idol? Or Small-Minded Idol?

2009-03-17T22:00:00.003-05:00

I am so angry and offended right now...I don't even know where to begin.

I am an Idol geek. I'm pretty sure everyone knows this. But if not, there. It's in the open. There are two shows that I obsess over. American Idol and Big Brother. This year, my favorite contestant is Adam Lambert? Why? Because he is by far the best vocalist and performer American Idol has ever seen. It has nothing to do with his sexuality, though I'm pretty pumped that there is finally an openly gay contestant, even if FOX won't address it or let Adam address it. But that, dear readers, is an entirely different blog that I will perhaps write later.

This blog is about a conversation I had with a certain individual via Facebook. The conversation was typical for a Tuesday night. He and I always discuss Idol. Who was the best, who was the worst, etc. It's routine. He threw me for a loop tonight when said that Adam was disgusting and offensive. "Adam can't win because we need to pick a role model not a drag queen." And insisted that Adam is "too gay."

I tried to remain calm. I wish I could just post the whole conversation in here, but I won't because I'm too lazy to change his name with each bigoted comment he said.

GAH! I can't even begin to process all of this write now. I'll just give you key quotes from him.

*Adam doesn't believe in God.
Hmm... really? And you know this how? Because he is gay or because he's emo? When asked why he said that, he responded with "Well God doesn't like him."

Now, I know that I am not the most religious person in the world. I do, however, have a personal relationship with God and have been raised in a Christian home, Christian school by a family of Pastors and was even a Junior Bible Quiz champion. I'm pretty sure that God loves everybody, am I wrong? Please, if I am, leave a comment and let me know where in the Bible it has an asterisk by the word everyone in regards to who God loves and who Jesus died for. Because I must have the non-footnote edition of God's Word.

*All I'm saying is if he keeps acting like that he's going to be shot like Matt Shepard.
Wow. Wow. On this comment, I literally felt like I was being kicked in the stomach. If you didn't catch what he was trying to say, I'll sum it up for you. Because there are violently hateful homophobes in our society, no gay person can be in the public eye. Hmm.... see ya later Ellen. Lance. Rosie. Clay. Anderson. Elton. Portia. Asian Man From Star Trek. Neil Patrick Harris. Boy George. Alan Cumming. Melissa Etheridge. Annie Leibovitz. Richard Hatch. Nathan Lane..... okay you get it. I think it is a great idea to focus all of our energy and attention to hiding homosexuals rather than opening the minds of those closed-minded, discriminatory bigots.

*I wrote a letter to the producers. Kids watch this.
Ah. You win. I forgot that kids watch this and shouldn't be exposed to people who live differently than them. I was under the impression that we were searching for a vocalist who can be AMERICA's idol. Not the small town, conservative idol. Nevermind the fact that contestants such as Katharine McPhee can appear on the show, do quite well, and hike their skirts up to the point on the naval reaching v-neck tops. Or the fact that Paula Abdul is clearly cracked out on every single episode this season. Again, that's another blog entirely.

It upsets me to realize people like this still exist. That because of one's sexuality, they are somehow less deserving of the competition. Because they are emo, they are automatically considered a drag queen instead of a role model.

Oh and the kicker to this conversation? The man it was with... is gay.

Please meet Bethesda

2009-03-17T12:24:00.005-05:00

For those who are curious about the angel that appears as my blog's header, I would like to introduce you to a good friend of mine. Her name is Bethesda.

Located in Central Park in NY, Bethesda Fountain is the centerpiece of the Bethesda Terrace, which overlooks the lake. The fountain and sculpture were designed by Emma Stebbins in 1868 and unveiled in 1873. Stebbins was the first woman to be publicly commissioned for a major work of art in New York City. This sculpture was the only statue in the original design for Central Park.

The angelic centerpiece depicts an eight foot tall female angel's descent to earth upon the fountain, where water spouts and cascades into the pool. Beneath the angel are four cherubs, each four feet. These cherubs represent Temperance, Purity, Health and Peace.

The Angel of Bethesda comes from John 5 in the New Testament, where Jesus heals a paralyzed man by the pool of Bethesda, which was considered a healing pool.

To me, Bethesda herself is an image of utter beauty and peace. As she descends to earth from the heavens, her right hand is slightly reaching. I believe she reaching out to grant peace for society and the recognition of beauty in all things. I have visited Bethesda and was overwhelmed with an incredible feeling of peace.

To me, Bethesda Terrace is the most beautiful place in the world. Because there is so much conflict and controversy surrounding same-sex marriage, the notion can get rather violent and offensive. I believe in equality for all and desire peace in our nation. I want to marry in front of Bethesda so she might see the peace she is delivering granted. Her hopes of beauty realized.

When I pass away, I would like to be cremated, with my ashes spread at the fountain, so peace may fall over those who mourn my death.

Here he is, boys! Here is he, world! Here's Day!

2009-03-16T22:49:00.004-05:00

I've had the strong urge to blog for awhile now. Unfortunately, I'm not sure what I should blog about. If anyone has a proposed topic for me to blog about, please let me know!