Thursday, December 10, 2015

Even If I Don't Fits, I Sits

With two notable exceptions, I have never fit in with where I am.  I was a ten-month baby, and in my mind, it was because along around 9 1/2 months I realized who I would be living with and was, like, "Whoa, these are not the droids I want."  (I was one of the early Indigo Children).  Anyroad, I ended up with them and always seemed like a stranger in a strange land.  I was definitely a part of the family unit, but I always felt like I was wearing a pair of undies that were too small and kept riding up my butt.
School was the same way.  Then I had a brief fling with theatre, but we broke up, because theatre wasn't into long-term commitments.  My first job in The Real World was with the FBI and I don't think I have to tell you my comfort level there.  (Though the NYC Office was cooler than the Pittsburgh Office.  I got to be in NYC for the birth of Disco, it was glorious.)  
My first notable exception was during my motherhood/wife-life phase.  Until the wife-life tanked, which led to the second notable exception when I got back together with my high school boyfriend, theatre; with the understanding that either of us could pull out whenever we wanted. (TWSS, but it should be noted that theatre broke up with me last year, and we got back together in August.)
ANYROAD, all of the above is just exposition to my point today, which is I don't feel comfortable in the current social environment.  I know I am not alone in this, thank Dionysus, but it hit home this morning when I  heard a woman in my office say, "I don't understand gun control."  Now, I don't know if she meant she doesn't understand how it works (or, actually, doesn't work), or if she doesn't understand why we need it.  But either way, I can't wrap my head around it.  Surely, she doesn't think it's okay for a mentally unstable human being to walk into a school and shoot people.  Doesn't she realize that stricter gun regulations may have prevented that man from obtaining a gun?  Why am I asking you?  You guys are on my side (I'm guessing) know this. 
But it's shit like this, and shit like people believing that Trump is an actual human being capable of national leadership, and not Zombie Hitler, that just make me want to crawl into a hole (although a comfy hole, with my cats and beer and Netflix) and never emerge. 
I thought we fixed this in 1970, people!  You mean I wore a black armband, refused to salute the flag and worshipped John Lennon for NOTHING??  
Well, it just proves, once again, that Star Trek was right...resistance is futile. And, if I have to accept the inevitability of assimilation, I supposed I can be comforted by the fact that I"ll get Jeri Ryan-like tits. 
But I'd rather people would quit shooting each other.

Wednesday, December 2, 2015

In Memoriam

When I was 15, I decided I wanted to be an actor.  My mother was aghast.  She was sure this would lead to me having sex all the time.  (She was always afraid I was going to be have sex all the time.  How wrong can you get.) Anyroad, my aunt thought me taking acting lessons was a wonderful idea and, wanting more than anything to please her new sister-in-law, my mother signed me up for Saturday morning acting lessons at the Pittsburgh Playhouse.
My teacher was Thom Thomas.  Thom was on the faculty of Point Park College (affiliated with the Playhouse).  He had graduated from Carnegie-Mellon and worked briefly in LA.  He was in the process of starting a summer theatre in Pittsburgh, The Odd Chair Playhouse.
It is no exaggeration to say that Thom Thomas changed my life.  He told me I had some ability.  He taught me the basics of theatre, including theatre etiquette, which is just as important as acting.  I worked at Odd Chair for seven years, attended Point Park because I wanted to continue studying with him, and grew from a lonely, insecure little girl into a woman who found her calling and her tribe.
A few years ago, we became FB friends.   I took that opportunity to express to Thom how much I loved and admired him and to thank him profusely for giving me a love for theatre, which truly made me into the Debbie I Was Meant to Be.
I'm so glad I did that.  Thom passed away  today, and I can't stop crying.  With the exception of my kids, no one has ever had such an enormous positive effect on my life.  In addition to being terrified of me becoming a sex machine, my mother was also convinced that I would commit suicide.  Perhaps I would have, if I hadn't met Thom... that's how important he was to me.
Rest in peace, my dear, dear, teacher, mentor,  and friend.  I'm sure I'm just one of many lives you rescued.