Jeremy's Ramblings, Babblings, and Other Pretentious Bullshit.
Tuesday, August 16, 2005
Why does everyone get to go to Europe? Every time I talk to a friend of mine, they are traveling to Europe or China or New York or someplace equally spectacular. Where do these people, all of whom are around my age, get the money to go on these trips?
I'm going to Washington D.C. in September for a protest march. I'll only be spending three days there. I was very thrifty when it came to the airline and the hotel. And yet doing so made me go broke, to the point where I overcharged my account by roughtly seventy dollars last week.
What's the difference between me and these vacationing friends of mine? How do I differ with them? What things do I have to pay for that they don't?
I am at an age where I should be joining those of my generation in their quests. I should be carrying a backpack of essentials while walking around the streets of Ireland alone. And yet, the closest I've come to that was a train trip to San Diego to see "Dirty Rotten Scoundrels: The Musical".
This is yet another way in which I feel disconnected from the rest of my generation. While I was moving to California and trying to earn a decent wage, they were going to college and vacationing in foreign countries (even when my senior class went to Mexico for a class trip, I spent that time in Chicago visiting a friend). I felt like I had skipped a part of my adolescence. And then before I knew it, they were all out of college and earning decent wages.
But then something strange happened. They all started getting married. In less than a year, they met, matched and surpassed me. Now I suddenly feel younger and less mature than my generational counterparts.
Of course, Brey assures me that I'm not them, and shouldn't aspire to be them, and of course, she's right. But I still find it odd that most of the women in our class now have different last names, their old ones simply a sign of their former lives (Holland, Adams, Fowler, all just a memory).
It's not so much that I desire to have their lives. I'm the happiest I've ever been, and with my new fantasy of moving to Stratford-Upon-Avon before 2010, the idea of travel is not out of my reach. I just wonder why other people my age don't seem to have my life.
In other news (and staying on the idea of England), I had one of those experiences that reminded me why I spend so much time pursuing my love of theatre. I was directing a reading of a truly fantastic play (that for some reason I don't want to give away the name of here), in hopes that I can direct an eventual production of it. For the reading, it was just me on stage reading stage directions, and next to me, Jessica Beane carrying the weight of the complex, highly emotional work on her strong shoulders.
For one hour, she took the journey that I put her through with an unbelievable amount of fearlessness. Going off of only one rehearsal, she was raw, unpolished and completely captivating, much like the script itself. It was nothing short of amazing, and when the artistic director said, "We have to do this show," I had her to thank.
In further news, I am currently not rehearsing anything or performing in anything. I have my many writing projects (which I always have) and the reading series. And that's it for at least a week (auditions for "Madame Guignol" are coming up and rehearsals for "Dead Letter Office" are on the horizon, I'm sure). I'm not sure what I'm going to do with my time (other than play Q*Bert. When and why did video games stop being so imaginative?).
And finally, I apologize for going so long since writing an entry (though I'm becoming more desensitized to it, I still shudder at the word "blog"). It's been a little while since I had both the time and energy to actually think.
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