Coverage of me and other train wrecks: my mama, subway nut jobs, sex and the environment.



The background noise isn't static, or machinery from some bygone industrial age expansion. It isn't the cosmos contracting and it's certainly not god. It's fear. A constant chorus of scared, doubtful thoughts: how can you say that I'm just trying to protect you, you don't know what you're up against in this world, if you get sick who will come to your rescue if you don't have health insurance, if you don't make money you're nothing, how will you live, if it's so hard why bother you'll only wear yourself out.

Mama's voice is potent. Since I was a kid my brain's been recording it and playing it back on a longer and longer loop. It keeps me from being content. It keeps me charged with anxiety. Right now, it's filling me with doubt about all my life decisions.

I said no to a full time job in order to pursue a fun baking internship, then I got scared of the fun bakery: too tiring, too difficult, not what I imagined--this is how the fear hides itself, as excuses. And so then I said MAYBE to the full time job. I told my would-be boss that I'd phase out of the bakery because I didn't think baking would work with my playwriting needs. But neither will a 9-5:30 office job.

It makes me feel like a pathetic lump when I realize how frequently I depend on the droning loop of mama's fears to guide my decisions. Is growing up finding an off switch for the recording, or just playing a different loop?

The incessant sound of fear has left me paralyzed to the point where I don't know what to do, whether to take the full time gig and quit the baking, quit the full time AND the baking and find a part time job, or bake and find a part time job. Every option is noisy. I have to be able to write. That's all.


I Love Me


Train Conversation

Two women on the F train this morning.

Green Hair: All my friends are having babies and baby showers--ugh, I'm so jealous.
Brown Hair: I know, it's wierd, right?
Green Hair: I guess, I mean, they're all married though.
Brown Hair: So young?
Green Hair: They're like our age. Mid twenties.
Brown Hair: I wanna have a baby eventually but I don't know--
Green Hair: Oh hell yeah, I was telling my boyfriend I'm ready now, I was like, put a baby in there sweetie.
Brown Hair: Oh shit--furreal?
Green Hair: I'm serious. I wanna hava baby.
Brown Hair: But they're so expensive. I don't think I could afford one.
Green Hair: Yeah but nobody can ever really afford one. You have it and that's it.


Mama's Message

Hi my love, I was missing your call today
And today coincidentally I didn’t go to church
I don’t know if you called me
Because I dyed my hair
And they changed the time
And now it’s three twenty something
And nothing, I’ve been in here
Putting photographs in photo albums
Remembering all the times with us together

And the last few we developed
And that nostalgia
And wanting to speak with you
So, well, I hope you’re well
The weather here is beautiful
And, and missing you very much
There are days I miss you very very much

And it even gives me nostalgia when I see the pictures and I say:
And why didn’t I give him a kiss?
And why didn’t he put his arm around me?
And why didn’t we hug in the photograph?
And...and know how one feels...
And I hope god blesses you
That those Yoga things are going well
Enjoy it to the max
Because those things stay with you and are good for your mind and for your development and everything

And don’t forget...I love you very much.



My brain's disintegrating. I'm having a midlife crisis at almost 31. Everything is in question. It's like the climax of my twenties, but it's like what most men get in their 40's.

I rearranged a bunch of shit in my life and created this totally revamped schedule:
Part time at Actors' Equity Association, 3 days a week
Part time as an unpaid intern at a bakery, 2 days a week
Playwright's Lab, 1 day a week
Mentoring a 16-year old, 1 day a week
Drawing class, 1 day a week
Freelance job, 2 days a week
Yoga, 4 days a week
Playwright....whenever I can.
Plus Rey and I are looking at apartments here and there in order to move (no rush, but it's in the works), and really all I wanna do is make a raft, throw myself into the sea, and wait until I hit land but the current will probably batter me back to the starting point.

My life, my dreams, right? I'm exploring a bunch of things, right? But I took on more than I can handle. I'm mentally exhausted and haven't blogged and all I wanna do is sleep somewhere warm with a beach and I'm angry that I can't do everything I WANT without MoNeY being a concern. And without self doubt: at every step of the way I doubt my ability to do anything. And I have no health care so if I pass out on the floor, I gotta mend my own cracked skull.

I can't believe I have two Ivy League degrees, am 30, and I'm still not established in anything. What I SHOULD do is simplify so that I have ONE job that gives me enough money and mental space so that I can write and do Yoga. That's the goal for April.

But in a few seconds, I'm gonna google: How do I become a monk and hide from America?