Happy Anniversary, Soy Un Cabron; Or Debts Never Paid

Life is episodic. Things happen everyday around us, like an episode of some trusted show,(Frasier?, Cheers?),life is a grilled cheese remedy to the day in, day out evil of the everyday we experience singularly. As I sit here writing this, it's less than a week before the show opens, my heart and mind are racing, I'm working my Northern Irish to the bone, my truest blue is engaged and my hair is still falling out. I feel the need to recognize because next week will be two years, two freaking years since I went down to Austin and my life summarily fell apart. Since then I've seen episodes. People married, babies born, couples torn apart, friends made and lost, and life filled out in all it's un-compromised living. Where did the time go?

I have been meaning to write a post all about mix tapes for some time now, but whenever I sit down to do so, I inevitably come back to L, and all the tapes I made for her. I recently heard through the through that she's engaged. Well, good for her. This only reinforces the fact that it still hurts when I think about all that went down. Things are so good now, because of some very special peeps, but that doesn't mean that every once in a while, I get a little jolt of panging pain.

KP's play is a thing of beauty. I'm finding myself in this fucker, and other writers should be wicked jealous, 'cuz it's the real deal. But I'm forced to face myself every night, and that's the hard part. How do we answer to ourselves?

I know that in the scheme of things that I am a footnote, a friend to the greats, and hell, that's good enough for me. But I feel things, dammit, and right now I am feeling a lot. Happy anniversary to this stupid blog, god bless DEPARTURES, thank mother fuckin' god for what came before, and I hope to all holy hopes that there's a better tomorrow in store. If this is my day in the sun, I just wish it was a little bit brighter. Thank you KP, for making it this warm. I owe so much to so many. Good night, sweet Vonnegut. And Paw-Paw. And LRD. And Duvall, Hackman and Don Cheadle, too. Not to mention Dulli, Earle, Grant-Lee Phillips and ole' Ryan Adams.

Hey L., can you see me now?

PS: Here's to love. As soundtracked by Dulli. God bless him.

Because Everyone's Been Asking

Here it is.
I think it's cool.

When In Doubt...

Working on this character that's so unlike me, I had to look to the greats for guidance. I found it.

Old Habits Die Hard

And this play is killing me.
Physically.
Vocally.
But most of all, emotionally.
What a terrible, terrible thing, this love.
Cheers to Palmer.
Up your republic!
To the Belfast boy.
Ay.
To the Belfast boy.

Best Fucking Show Ever. EVER.

I'm Glad Someone's Speaking Up

Leave her alone, dammit.

Super Psyched For This Movie

I know, I know. Something's on the way. Promise.