No artist is pleased. There is no satisfaction at anytime.
There is only a queer, divine dissatisfaction,
a blessed unrest keeps us marching and makes us more alive than others.
-- Martha Graham to Agnes De Mille
Was || Will Be || Past Moments || Now || Notes

2003-06-08 - 1:47 a.m.

wherein our plucky young hero realizes that he doesn't know the first thing about flirting

So much to catch up on, but no time. It's late and I have a busy, busy day tomorrow.

Just to whet your whistle, there was Karaoke last night (and with theater people you *know* someone's going to put on a show). Tonight was a dance party.

Lemme just say two things.

1) There are some amazing women I'm getting to hang out with this month. Just amazing.

2) I do *not* know how to flirt. Everyone was flirting with everyone. Except for me.

The second one seemed like more of a revelation on the drive home, but it was getting mixed in with all kinds of regrets, and self-doubt, and a resurgence of the "Alone, alone, you're gonna die alone" song, and just a smidge of regret/doubt about ShyGirl. (Again, paging Mrs. Methodone, someone, anyone, stop me thinking about this heroin.)

Okay, that's all for now. I need to go to sleep.

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