The past couple of days here in beautiful New York have been unbearably hot. Luckily my electricity has held firm, unlike so many in Queens and the Bronx, and the A/C is doing its thing or I'd have two melted pets. But aside from the fact that it's scorching outside I am still just freakin' tickled to be drawing breath every day. Sure, it's hot air we're breathing in but on the good side it reminds me of Las Vegas and Mexico so that's toasty and pleasant. And full of happy golden goodness.
Plus today the heat seems to have abated so we're back to normal August, which here means humid and heavy - and that's a damned sight better than what it's been.
Tonight I went to a show, something I do with ridiculous frequency and I'm glad of it. A year and a half ago I thought I'd seen my last live shows: one on Broadway, one on off-off B'wy. So to go to the theater now is something I treasure wildly. It's representative of so many things I thought I'd never do again back when I was calling Frank E. Campbell's to price my funeral arrangements so my friends wouldn't have to do anything after I offed myself. Given the shear mess I was left to unravel after my parents died, I knew I could never kill myself and leave that sort of crap for the people I love. Of course at the time I was planning all this I was so f-d up it never occurred to me that my suicide might be more horrible to them than clearing up some paperwork. I was pretty much past rational.
The theater has been more a religion to me than Catholicism ever could be. To have that back when I had actually said good-bye to it... it's really a microcosm of the joy I take in being alive now. And since it was in large part the theater that helped keep me alive, well now, that's pretty much religion isn't it?
Tonight I got to see a really dear woman I had the pleasure to meet while we were performing in an Off-Broadway show together -- every time I see her I wonder why I'm not pursuing acting in any real way. I mean good lord it makes me so stupid happy it's a little sickening, so why do I shy away from it? Cowardice? Laziness? Exhaustion from having to be in the same 9-5 job for the past 3 years? Probably a bit of each. But seeing her reminds me, so thank you Ms. T for the reminder that I need to get off the pot and do what I can to feel fulfilled, instead of something I hate that just eats up my days.
This is awfully rambly, but since I'm new to this bloggy thing I'm going to just go with it. Still getting my sea-legs as it were. Come back again and see if I get more coherent!