Effing cold. Its effing cold here in New York. I wanted a White Christmas and one snuck in just under the wire that night. And another one is coming. Happy New Year.
It actually IS a happy 2011; many beautiful things are a-brewin' in the Year of Fruition, as my insightful roommate has dubbed it. Our hard work in LA has had a major breakthrough, I actually have had a job I applied for back in November call me, which is extraordinary. Now if I could just get Cool Girl to knock it the fuck off.
So I left you in LA, hanging as it were, with the Little One invading my space. Literally. God provided an intervention in the form of an audition for a Broadway play in New York that I had to pick up and run to. The play is Neil LaBute's FAT PIG and is about a guy who dates a very overweight girl and is madly in love with her but is so embarrassed that he is with her, that he hides her from his work friends, who are horrible, horrible people. The part was for the title character. I hate this play and generally do not enjoy Mr. LaBute's work. To be precise, his plays make me want to write answer plays like rappers did in the 80's; the song may have a good beat to it, but GOD is the message awful. And the thought of being googled for the rest of my life and having "FAT PIG" come up next to my name was not my ego's idea of a good time. But my ego WAS down with the idea of creating a role on Broadway that I could be Tony Nominated for...oooooh.
So I went.
Preparing for the audition ended up bringing me face to face with one of my awful core beliefs; that I was too fat to be truly loved; if someone loved me, it was because I did all I could to get them forget what I looked like. (Ask me if I think this has ever worked, by the way.) I am so self-hating that I actually have a phobia of chubby-chasers. Its true. I am currently undergoing hypnotherapy to deal with this issue- I'd like to lose the weight or accept myself at the weight I am or, best case scenario, both. Right now, its neither and it really can't continue if I expect to be in a healthy, non-Cool-Girl relationship with someone.
Cool Girl was created when I realized that being overweight was the kiss of death when it came to boys, at arooound kindergarden when I was chasing Danny O around the giant cement turtle in the schoolyard. I have since come to know, intellectually, that this is ridiculous but not until Cool Girl made her way into every relationship with a guy I've ever had. And my heart, my poor heart, already believed this to be true. It needs to be bitch-slapped.
I should confess that once I wrote the first sentence of the paragraph above, I was not able to get beyond it for a good nine days. You know when you write something so true about yourself, it stops you cold, the truth ringing in your ears, taking up all your head space? Well, that happened. And I've sat on it for a week and a half.
K- back to FAT PIG and all the unearthing it did to me just auDItioning for the damn thing. I gave the best, TONY award-winning performance I could at that audition, and left floating on cloud nine. Practically buzzing, I wandered along Fifth Ave., checked out the store windows tricked out for Christmas and called the Unicorn. I was going to meet him near his work on the Upper East Side, and by the time I got there I was sweaty & starving. It was a great pub named for some Irish Movie or some movie set in Ireland and had Guinness but NO FOOD. They give you small bags of chips at the bar as a condolence. I'm sure you're predicting this whole scenario- I am about to get wasted on one drink with the Unicorn. Key-Righst.
He's lovely, as usual. I wanna fall into his face. I wanna take his huge hand in mine and kiss every knuckle, I wanna tug on the thick hair on his head as I attack his mouth. This is probably TMI...but what I ACTually do is talk about how hungry I am and how I walked all over beejesus in the cold to get to him. Thanks, Cool Girl, thanks. We fall into comfortable conversation right away; he's always very generous with is inquiry about my life which must seem Looney Tunes to him and after a hefty dose of what my world's been like and how his work's been I ask: "So, how's your personal life?" Cool Girl wanted to torture me with details of the girl he's skipped over the Disney Stage with- wait.
I did not explain this my Instinct entry. Cool Girl thought it was a good idea back in October to ask The Unicorn about this girl he was dating who would be okay with him going to an extra-special-fancy meal with me. He said they were only seeing each other for three weeks or so (3 weeks! So CLOSE!) and I said, "Oh, so you're in the Disney Stage, huh?" He had no idea what I meant so I explained, "You know, the first three months of going out with someone is the Disney Stage- all flowers and butterflies and songs..." He kinda huffed and said quietly, "Well, I think we may have skipped over that part." I squinched up my face into the phone. I couldn't tell if this meant they have gotten serious quickly or that she...sucked. So after a beat, I made a joke,"What, are you already holding her hair back while she pukes into a toilet, or what?!" And thank God, he cracked up laughing and we went on a tangent about thaaaat...
Back to December..."personal life?" and he scratched his beard which looked about a month old and he said "Oh, well, I actually am not seeing that girl anymore. It ended kinda badly." "Hence, the beard?" He sideway'd smiled at me. *melting* Went through the whole story. Basically, she DOES suck.
So now I have emotionally raw Unicorn completely unattached at this cozy bar with me and I am drinking on an empty stomach and we start to talk about the play I came in to audition for. Now, what I love about his non-theatre-boy ass is that he asks questions about the play and what it's trying to say to the world and not whether I think I booked the gig or not. *gagging sound* After going through the play and its premise and how I feel about it and how I feel about mySELF doing the work that is required for the part, he asks with such beautiful sincerity, "So, how would you feel about having to perform that play every night? Wouldn't that affect you?" My eyes went wide. "Just preparing for this audition has affected me!" and, gagging Cool Girl and throwing her in a closet, I actually tell the truth about my weight and hypnotherapy and dating and all of it. And instead of feeling small and weak I feel relieved and strong, taller even.
Our time is way too short and I have to go actually eat something with Stand-Up Yogi and a couple of her clients on the West Side, so we grab a cab together. Walking has made me realize how drunk I am. I think he is too. But instead of acting all quiet like usual, I push through and start acting reedickulous and we're laughing and he's making really baaad sexual innuendos and I feel like I'm in 6th grade but happy. We stop outside of his place, which I have never done and before he gets out, I say "Uh-oh. Now I know where you live. Now I can stalk you sooo easily. Watch out." He giggled nervously, bent down, kissed me on the cheek and said, "Okay I'll watch my back. Have a safe trip back."
And that's it. Blueballed. Ugh.
Well, its really not it bc I think I may have drunk-texteded him something about Ducky riding by Andie's house on a bike over and over in Pretty In Pink. Bad Business.
The first order of business when I returned to LA? Telling the Little One he no longer could sleep in my bed. He had to sleep on our couch.
I think this Hypnotherapy shit is working.
