The Sheila Variations

Diary Saturday

Presented without too much comment from me beforehand. This one is not high school. It's a memory that Michael and I touched on - a stupid memory, really, just a time we ran into each other at an audition and then at a show and how fun it was - and I knew I had written about it. I wanted to find this entry and I did (took me about 2 minutes of digging thru the ol' diary box) ... So I read the damn thing and it's an odd entry. It's inTENSE. I am on the cusp. I am making the moves to move from Chicago. I have set it in motion. But nothing has happened yet. But it's coming. I can sense it. I was recovering from this failed love affair with the Baby Boomer - but I wasn't recovering very well. I am amazed at how haunted I sound in this entry. And I would remain haunted by him for freakin' years. I finally stabbed his ghost in the damn heart about 5 years ago (hahaha) - and have made some peace with it. Writing this helped too. But I was a mess at the point of this diary entry. But meanwhile: I was hanging out on an almost constant basis with Window-Boy at this point - especially since I somehow sensed that my time in Chicago was coming to an end. He was so relaxing for me - or that's how I remember this time anyway - everything else was so crazy, but I could relax with HIM. Turns out there was a bit more darkness in the scenario which I had forgotten - but it comes back, reading this entry. I don't remember much of it, actually. Strange. Timing-wise - this diary entry is in May. Michael and I had dated in the autumn of the previous year, and then sort of drifted apart. Nothing bad happened, no falling out, just ... well. The death-mask debacle and other tragedies. So then in May - changes coming - weirdness with Window-Boy - missing Baby Boomer ... and I run into Michael.

This entry's intense. Not high school giddy silliness. Although much of it did make me laugh out loud. I'll refer to Baby Boomer as BB and Window-Boy as WB in the entry below. Lucky Michael gets to keep his own name.

MAY 15

I have FORCED myself to continue forward with my plans, even though I'm apathetic, a huge part of me doesn't want to leave Chicago AT ALL. A huge part of me wants, at least, to be near BB. [Ouch] I can't let it go. I can't. [Then, in the middle of this text, I have written - and I have NO IDEA what it means: "Hello you monkeys and lovers and lovebirds and shriners." Seriously - THAT LINE shows up right after "I can't let it go. I can't." hahahahahahs Shriners?? WHAT???] But I have to. Or, I certainly can't abandon my plans. I could not live with myself. I am already trying to prepare myself for the wrench of leaving. Also ... BB. It's done. It's over. But in my heart it is so not. I live for word of him. My heart beats faster. But - like a steamroller - I keep making plans, taking the steps, 1-2-3 - without even really thinking about it. Forcing myself. And now I am flying to NYC in June for the audition. I'll deal with the move when it happenns. Listen to how I talk about this - as though moving would be bad.

However, I think I am a pretty evolved person. I think my understanding of and feeling for the shades of grey in life is pretty deep. I understand how good and bad can be mixed. A "good" thing can happen and a really 'bad" thing can be attached to it. That's life. That's being an adult.

I have a problem with the word "happy" anyway. I always have. Happiness, for me, is encapsulated in a moment. Not meant to last. The first glimpse of the skyline as I run around a curve in the lake ... sitting in the sun on my front steps drinking coffee ... dancing on BB's feet in the hot darkness, his arms tight around me ... driving with Ann with the windows down singing the theme song to Greatest American Hero at the top of our lungs ...

Moments.

When I feel a burst of contentment ... Happy? I can see clearly (now the rain has gone ...) I don't say "I'm happy". I live in shades of grey, despite all the hyperbolic stances. So I am preparing myself for this wonderful move - and preparing myself for the grieving I will do. Grieving for my life here. But what's weird is - as of now - I am only thinking about the bad side of it. I can't get to the place of excitement, ambition - I don't feel it yet.

I just had a chilling thought.

5/15

[I'm not sure what's up with the dates. Looks like I put the pen down - because of my 'chilling thought' - went off, did something, and came back to the journal later. And I pick up the train of thought with these lovely 2 lines, full of positivity]

Capture my heart and then bite it in two.
I won't forget.

MAY 16

I had to put down the pen. It's too awful. The chilling thought I had was this. It just occurred to me: what if that is going to be my life from now on. Not being able to "get to" excitement, in any pure or unabashed way - but knowing I have to keep forcing myself to make plans, care about things ... force myself to go on living.

Once again, things shift so that the fantasy world is more potent and real than reality. Ann and I talked about that - the times in your life when your life is what you fantasize about.

"There were a couple of months when I couldn't even read books because they couldn't hold my interest like my own life could," said Ann.

She's right.

I cannot picture being in that state again.

I felt it briefly on that frozen day when I had 3 auditions in a row. I revelled in my own life on that day. I revelled in being myself.

I am being too dramatic. I am talking myself into a depression. There is no need to do that. My emotions need fluidity. I do not want to petrify. That is where bitterness comes in. Also, it will kill my acting. [Jesus. I do not write in my journal like this anymore. I am really working things out here in writing.]

When depression hits - I go with it. What the hell. I am really sad that this abyss is between me and BB. I am devastated that we did not get a chance to add a bit of light to the universe. And I am still overwhelmed by a feeling of wrongness. This is wrong wrong wrong. But mostly I just live with it. I bear it. Somedays I can't bear it. I don't judge myself.

This is why I cannot go to see his shows.

He blots out the sky for me. I get lost in his shadow.

A couple weeks ago I was called in to read for Suburbia - one of the hit shows in Chicago right now. The show is a smash and they're looking to extend it so they were reading for replacements. I would kill to play that role. Despite my huge problems with the script itself - I think I could make something fabulous out of that part. The audition was on a Saturday morning. I had kind of a weird day - full of serendipity. It was a grey day. Drizzly. I dressed totally Generation X for the audition. Plastic barettes, corduroys, etc. I walked to the Theatre Building - with Liz Phair blasting in my ears. Much wind. Light drizzle. Walked into the Theatre Building lobby and couldn't see clearly because it was dark after being outside. I sensed a group of waiting actors in one area, so I walked over there, my eyes adjusting. The first actual face I perceived was Michael's. He was sitting down, grinning up at me, wryly - waiting for me to see him. I remember the moment - I was walking with purpose - striding really - and then I saw him. There was that audition-going-on hush in the air so I didn't make a sound - but my heart leapt out of my chest at the sight of him. I have MISSED that boy. So as I circled aorund the row of chairs between us to get to him, I mouthed silently, "Oh my God!" - my quiet ecstatic reaction to seeing him. I haven't seen him in months. We've talked a couple times on the phone, we always say "Let's get together" but it never happens. I certainly don't want to get into a situation where just meeting for a coffee is a huge fucking ordeal. He knows where to find me if he wants me. We're friends. I think we could be great friends. We had a real connection - that is still apparent. We are not estranged. [hahahahaha What are you - feckin' Jane Austen???]

I wanted to dance and sing at the sight of him and I would have if we hadn't been in the cathedral atmosphere of an audition. We had to contain ourselves. He was happy to see me. He played it pretty cool, but I could tell. We were very in sync that whole day. He stood up to meet me and he actually looked kind of moved. It wasn't a simple "Hey, great to see you" - for him or for me. Something happened between us in Ithaca and we both recognized it. We had afabulous hug amidst all the actors on the floor, filling out forms. We were holding onto each other and he wouldn't let me go. He's Italian. So not Irish. We both were whispering into each other's ears, "It's so good to see you! Oh my God it's so good to see you!" We moved ourselves out of the group of actors so we wouldn't disturb anyone and we basically said "Hi!" ecstatically for 5 minutes. There's something about him that makes me laugh.

After we both auditioned - we hung out for a bit.

I said, "Did you watch our boy on the Oscars?" ("Our boy" means, of course, John Travolta.)

Oh, wait - before this - I said, "Oh! I'm in a show now." He immediately was so excited for me. I love actors. I love my actor friends. Everyone gets so excited for each other. He leapt on the news.

"Really? What?"

"Oh, Michael. It's a Bailiwick gay pride show and it's called Lesbian Bathhouse."

(It is so hard to tell people what I'm doing. "What show are you doing?" "Oh, it's a sweet little romantic comedy called Lesbian Bathhouse." I told WB - he actually just called me, story at 10 - [hahahahaha I'm so self-dramatic. Still am.] - anyway - I said to him, "It's called Lesbian Bathhouse." There was a pause, and then he said, "Lesbian Bathhouse? What. The. Fuck." That is generally the reaction.) But anyway, Michael and I laughed about Lesbian Bathhouse - and then he said, "I always knew you were gay" and I just BURST into laughter. First of all, I was so damn happy to see the boy I couldn't keep the smile off my face. Also - he just goes right back into our little drama - "I always knew you were gay". I love that he thought I was gay at first, and that held him back from making the first move. [I had forgotten this - but now I remember vividly. It's hilarious.]

Then - I brought up the Oscars and John Travolta. He said, "Of course I watched it."

"I was bummed he lost. How are you doing with it?" Kiddingly serious wiht him. [John Travolta was his childhood hero, basically]

He said, "Yes, he lost, but ... he looked cool though. Don't you think? Didn't he look cool?"

He is like Christian Slater in True Romance saying that he would fuck Elvis Presley - and only Elvis Presley - no other guy - but he would fuck Elvis. So anyway, as Michael spoke - he kind of became a 14 year old girl right in front of my eyes. He went off into Travolta Dream Land - he kind of stuck his hip out, stanidng there like Michelangelo's David, a little sexy flirtatious pose - and as he said, "He looked so cool" - he, without thinking about it, started playing with his nipples. [I AM HOWLING. He's reminding me of my crazy friend David.] Laughter just flowed out of me - unstoppable. I had to say it: "Michael, look at you. And you think I'm gay?" Michael said, "For Travolta, I'm gay."

[I can't stop laughing.]

Here's a serendipitous thing: the 2 of us were both wearing our Ithaca "uniforms". We basically wore the same clothes every day in Ithaca - comfort was key. I had on my flannel shirt which I bought in Ithaca - he had on the tan corduroy jacket [hahahahahaha] which will forever remind me of Ithaca. He slept in the damn thing, for God's sake. And he told me later - that that was the first time he had worn it in MONTHS [to the Suburbia audition]. It was the first spring-ish day - he put it on - and who does he run into but me. And I am wearing my flannel shirt, brown corduroys, and my plastic barrettes. I sat down to fill out my form, I glanced over at Michael, and he gestured at his jacket like, "Look what I am still wearing."

My audition went really well and they invited me to come see the show that night. They invited Michael too - so we had a date to go together and it was just what I needed. Because I was in a funk. The night before Jackie and I had gone to see some improv - and I don't remember why - but I left without saying good-bye to WB. [Surprise, surprise. I was always blatantly ignoring him, even though ... I didn't WANT TO. ] Why do I act so weird? I felt so weird about how I acted. He was talking with some people - but he totally knew I was there - we had talked before the show - and then - I just had an implosion and I left without saying goodbye to him. I reverted to my weird behavior. [Humorous side note: WB would come to meet up with me at some venue. I'd already be there with Mitchell and Ann. I would see WB come in and instead of running over to greet him happily - I would breezily pretend I didn't see him for about half an hour, until I could calm down. So ridiculous. But I was so into him and afraid that if he knew how much he would disappear. But the funniest thing is that during one of these times when I was ignoring him - Mitchell went over to talk to him. "Hey, WB, how you doing?" WB said, smiling, "I'm just waiting for Sheila to stop ignoring me. Should be about another 20 minutes." He had my number, boy. I am so lucky he put up with that shit. And he did. He understood. He didn't take it personally. Kind of amazing.]

Then - even weirder - I got home - I walked home thru the drizzly night and I felt so confused at my behavior. I suddenly, also, got this very desolate feeling - and I realized how - without WB - my romantic life would be at a standstill. He is it. If he goes and starts dating someone else - and I am not his girlfriend and I have never been his girlfriend - not really - then I'll be stuck. However, I am his friend and I should have at least said goodbye or good show or something. That was just plain rude. And my behavior freaked me out. Why am I freaking out? WB and I had really got into a nice groove (before the eve of the Gingerman) [that is hysterical - in my own little world, that statement "the eve of the Gingerman" makes total sense.] - but I hold back. He holds back.

It's probably for the best.

But I felt all itchy and edgy on that walk home. I felt sudden panic, too, when I entertained the thought of WB getting involved with someone else. I becamse super-conscious of how tenuous it all was - how nothing holds me and WB together - nothing. I mean, I have always known that, but I was very uncomfortable about it, suddenly. My heart sank at the thought of losing WB. Where would that leave me? He's all I've got - and what we've got is so transient - it has no weight at all. [Oh, oh. I speak with the 20/20 of hindsight. It most certainly DOES have weight. Things are not always what they seem, my dear.] Let me say one thing: this has been a very tough winter and spring for me. I have been lonely, sad, depressive - and WB has helped me a lot. He has gotten me thru - just by his presence. He has helped me bear the sadness - these have been the darkest hardest months for me - and I de-focused all of that all over him. [hahaha Lucky him.]

But then - after all that - I left without saying goodbye. So - weirdo that I am - I paged him when I got home and told him I loved his show, which I did, and that I was sorry I left without saying goodbye. He is a fearless giant onstage - he is one of the most exciting performers I have ever seen. I love to watch him just GO. But look at me: I see his show, I don't speak to him, and then I page him from 3 blocks away. I am crazy right now. I am not behaving in a rational manner. It is all BB's fault. I have lost my balance completely.

I went to bed that night - quite uneasy. I got this weird feeling. This weird doomed span-of-time feeling, as in: Maybe this will be my life. Maybe this is it. This peripheral relationship will be all I am capable of. This is it.

And then who do run into the next day? But Michael. A guy who got under my skin. A guy I could care about, and did care about. This guy who showed me I could care about someone else right after BB. It was a very significant experience for me. I was all "oh my heart is dead" and Michael randomly showed up and showed me my heart was not dead. [Ahem]

Bringing him coffee in the morning
Trivial Pursuit
Our first kiss - on the living room floor of the drug-addict gay guy they were staying with
Kissing under the waterfall
Breakfast all day long
Talk talk talk
Our fights on the sidewalk
Dancing with him - we loved to dance together
Standing on the porch at night, watching him walk off - the dark trees, leaf shadows, the quiet, the country sounds - assailed by the sweetness of life - my country boyfriend walking away
Falling into his eyeball
Driving around - Laurie driving, Pat up front, me and Michael in back, his head on my lap
The guttering candles at he and Pat's damp dark place - the sound of the river below - the shadows of the leaves
laughing HYSTERICALLY
Joe Daily and my cobalt blue bra [ohmigod ... I can't even get into this ... we actually laughed about this recently ... the landlord, the angry letter, and my random cobalt blue bra ... too much to discuss ... so funny though]
WINE TASTING MAGIC
The Haunt - my God - that name just popped into my head - I danced on a platform at The Haunt
Oh and that was the night that Laurie cried - she cried at the Haunt. Michael called it "random crying". He said, "I have no idea what's going on with you, Laurie. This is just random crying, as far as I'm concerned." Laurie called him a "goober" and a "wanker" because he did not validate her "random crying".

[I vaguely remember SOME of this. I do not remember our first kiss, or the gay drug addict. Did Pat and Michael stay at some other place before they moved to the dark damp place where the electricity kept going out? Was there some drama? No memory of it. I remember the waterfall. I do not remember dancing on a platform - although I do remember the 'random crying'. ]

So anyway - I ran into Michael that very next day - after my uneasy doom-filled night [again with the drama ... but like I said earlier: I was on the cusp of a HUGE change ... I knew it ... I was dealing with the repercussions of it ... even though it wasn't reality yet] - and we had a date for that night to go see Suburbia. It was the perfect medicine. Serendipity. WB doesn't have to be the only guy in my life.

But listen to this craziness - I walked home from the audition. It was about 5:30. I would meet Michael back at the theatre at 8 or whatever. So anyway, Mitchell told me, weeks ago, that he had run into WB on the Starbucks on Southport at 5:30 one random evening. The Starbucks is only one block out of my way and it is right across from WB's apartment - so I walked that way. I have no justification for that except that I am crazy and obsessive.

It was such a funny up and down day that way. The night before I was all anxious that WB had taken on a boyfriend role - so what do I do? I flee into the night, only to page him from my house. Freaked out at how he had become IT. But then ... who do I run into the next day? It was like: all of thse people in my life ... it's almost like I have created them. I have made them all up to serve certain personal purposes.

So I walked home via the Starbucks on the corner. Still buzzing from the encounter with my young-buck hot ex-boyfriend. I felt so good about it, and I felt good about my audition and how well it had gone. It had already been a great day and I was looking forward to going to see the show that night with Michael. He came out after his reading - I waited for him. He came over to where I was sitting and said, "I have to hug you again" and he just burrowed himself into me - it was so sweet. He hugs me like he means it.

What I liked about my behavior that day (as opposed to the day before when I blew WB off) was how open I was to him. I was happy to see him and I let him know. I felt young and unjaded. I lit up at the sight of him. All was okay. I need to strip myself of my layers of protection. They isolate me. I no longer want protection.

Hurt me - love me -- Life's too short to miss out on any of it.

And of course - as I walked by the Starbucks - I ran into WB. The whole day I felt like this sorceress. Like: "Hm. I feel like WB is the only man in my life and I don't like it. I wish I could run into someone who makes me realize that that is not true. POOF! Here's Michael. Hm. I feel very badly about leaving without saying goodbye to WB. I wish I could run into him so that I can make it up to him. POOF. Here's WB."

It was so funny. I was approraching Starbucks on the east side of the street - and then I see, rounding the NW corner of that intersection - a figure with familiar insane hair and a familiar technicolor coat [I AM LAUGHING OUT LOUD. "Go go go Joseph ... to the other window!"]. I didn't even have time to process the coincidence. After all, I basically knew I was going to run into him. Didn't I? It didn't surprise me at all.

I called out his name. The figure stopped and looked in mmy direction. He's so scruffy. He's a mole. He didn't see me - I saw him look - then give up and turn to go to his apartment. So I called out his name again, and this time waved and started towards him. He saw me. Cute smile. He's so cute and awkward. He stood there, gangly, untethered, waiting as I crossed the 2 streets to get to him. At one point, I felt goofy so I did a slow-mo run - and I could hear him start laughing.

He had gone out to order lunch. He had a jar of pink lemonade in one hand. He had clearly just woken up and was getting ready to go to work. We stood there and talked for about 5 minutes. I can't even really remember what we talked about. His show, I told him how good I think he is, I told him about my audition, he told me about his show, and that was it. He went his way, I went mine ... but that weird edgy feeling that had been palpitating around my heart was gone. I had made my peace with him. It was important to me. He means a lot to me. It's not his fault I'm leaving soon and having a nervous breakdown about it.

Michael and I had a great time that night at the show - there was a distinctly date-like aura over the evening, but we've been through so much together somehow that we are comfortable with all of that. It was great to be with him. Fun. We were giggling like teenagers. He was also ALL OVER ME at ALL TIMES. [hahahaha SO "not Irish"] I like him because he's unafraid, and also totally masculine. He's meaty and physical. I am not. I want to be - but whatever, instead I ignore WB and flee into the night. I'm so careful with myself physically - especially if I feel like I could ever be hurt by that person. But there was Michael, playing with my hair, untying my shoes [hahahaha], putting his arm around me - fun, playful, annoying me - not being careful with me. Not being careful with me. I appreciate that. We were sitting in the theatre and he took my arm in his hands and peerred closely at my fingers. "How're the warts?" [bwahahahahaha. When he met me - I had this freakin' awful outbreak on my poor fingers. I am convinced that it was because of the stress of this failed love affair with BB - everything in my body went haywire. I stopped sleeping, eating, my skin changed, and I had warts on my fingers. So there are pictures of Michael and me, in Ithaca, doing whatever - playing cards, reading, and you can see the band-aids on my fingers. Sad little Sheila, body freaking out.] Michael's all in my space. I like it. We flirted like maniacs - but because we've already basically had a relationship - there's a different feel to it. It feels safe. The currents run deeper.

As we walked to his car (he has a car!) - he kept hugging me and wrestling with me and whirling me around - I joked at one point, "Hey. Learn boundaries." That kind of pseudo-therapy talk always made Michael laugh so hard. He said, "Fuck you. I can't have boundaries with you." While he's pulling my hair, and grabbing me by my belt buckle, pulling me to him.

We had a ball during the show. We had issues with the production - and with the script - we both felt like we had done great in our auditions, so we had fun, in that bitchy actor way - whispering criticisms to each other. We talked at intermission, getting into it - and of course, all we were doing was telling the other one that they were MUCH better than the actual actor playing it on stage.

Oh, and he laughed openly at my plastic barrettes and called me a "kinder whore".

I feel pretty when I'm with him. Weird. I had that feeling with BB, too. BB made me feel like I was the inventor of beauty and mystery and sex. Like I was Cleopatra. It's not quite that intense with Michael - but when he looks at me - I just feel the appreciative imprint of his eyes. I feel seen. I wonder if I make him feel the same way. Or is all of this talk, as WB says, "a girl thing"?

Oh, and Michael calls me "dude" - the whole "dude" thing was an Ithaca phenomenon - and we all caught it. We all referred to each other as "dude". All of us. We said "Thanks, dude" to the cashier at Ben and Jerry's. Men, women, didn't matter - all were "dude". So he called me "dude" on the way back to the car - and I said, "Dude! God! I forgot about that!"

Oh, and out of the blue - in the lobby of the theatre - Michael said very hostilely, very confrontational, "So ... have you seen that 60 year old guy you were in love with?" [this is so so funny to me. Some things never change.]

Every time Michael references BB - he makes him older. So he's 60 now! I couldn't help but laugh - at the surly attitude, too.

I didn't ask him about his ex-girlfriend - although I wanted to. See? There's the main difference between me and him. I don't ask something if I might not like the answer. He asks. I want to be more like him. He's not passive-aggressive either. He's out there. Revealed.

But that, so far, was that. It's okay, though. I don't want another peripheral guy. I want a boyfriend. A companion.

BB and I recently talked a little bit - he's reading Mating now - on my recommendation - and I think that maybe that book plus my letter are the sources of the new look in his eyes recently. A deeper understanding. A kindness. A patience with me. An ability to deal. He doesn't try to jostle me into the way it used to be. We cannot go back.

I have this vision of myself coming back here. 5 years from now. 10 years from now. Whevener. And I can see myself going to see his show - sitting in the back - not letting him know that I'm out there - and I have this feeling - I just KNOW (it's more than just a feeling) that, whatever else may change, our connection won't. [Weird. I had no idea how right I would be.]

Quantum mechanics at work. 2 alternate separate yet very similar lives travelling along at the same moment. The Double Life of Veronique. We wil not see each other for years. And I can see me - 5 years from now - being really into a certain band, a new book - or, less obvious - I'll be experiencing a sudden random surge of interest in - oh, I don't know - Brigadoon - It doesn't even really matter what it is - and I know that the following will happen: I will be in a big Shenandoah phase, a big Seven Brides for Seven Brothers phase - and I'll sneak to the back of the club to see him play - and BB will reference Shenandoah, or Brigadoon, or he'll do a medley from 7 Brides - Whatever. I know that this will happen. [Yes. It will happen. Over. And over. And over. It happened last summer when I went to see one of his shows. I accept it now. Whatever. We're on the same trajectory - except they are parallel lines - we intersected briefly - but that was it. Now we're parallel] Even when we are separated by miles and years - the connection will remain.

Love never dies.

Not really. It's like matter. It cannot be destroyed.

A connection like that - when it happens - can't be erased. You can pretend it is erased - but that would be all it was: Pretense.

We will go on, totally separate, more and more separate every day, but that silver cable will remain.

Nothing gold can stay. Right?

Posted by sheila