Despite my better judgment, I went to see Significant Other, the new play by Joshua Harmon that recently transferred to Broadway from Roundabout, this past Sunday with my significant other, my best guy friend, and his significant other. I saw this shortly after I met J in 2015 while it was off-Broadway and it hit me hard in the emotions. I walked out of the Laura Pels thinking Gideon’s character surely killed himself after the lights went down. And to be honest, I kind of wanted to kill myself after the lights went down on Sunday afternoon, regardless of my relationship status. My friends concurred.
I want to start by saying that Gideon Glick is brilliant as the protagonist Jordan, a late twenty-somethings city-dweller. He gives a flawless performance of an extremely flawed character. He has genius comedic timing and I was exhausted watching him exert himself onstage for two and a half hours(ish). I would watch this guy read the phone book because he could make it entertaining. He has monologues that are pages long but he makes it look effortless.
Sas Goldman, who plays the first bride of the night Kiki, reminded me in a weird way of Tracee Chimo in Bachelorette. But in a totally good, weird way. Lindsay Mendez plays a wonderful best friend to Jordan, Laura, who gets caught up in wedding madness when she finally gets engaged. She was able to be strong even when hurt by Jordan’s page and a half tirade on the evening of her bachelorette party. And, last but not least, Rebecca Naomi Jones is the hilariously dark Vanessa who gives no fucks about anything until the day of her wedding.
The men in this show are not at all the focus. Hence why two actors play all six male characters (in addition to Jordan). John Behlman and Luke Smith both do a lovely job playing the various boyfriends and husbands and coworkers of the four main characters.
Because of its incredibly depressing tone, and it’s suicide-inducing ending, I’m not sure it’ll find it’s audience on Broadway, but I know that a lot (most) people could probably relate to Jordan’s feeling of being alone and feeling hopeless. There are lots of parts to make you laugh, and many to also make you feel all the feels. Like any good play should.
I once wrote about how I’d had trouble sleeping but that through a bunch of different ways, I’d cured myself. Well, “trouble sleeping” is back again. You see, J snores. Not all the time. And not that badly. But if he falls asleep before me, then all I can think about is “OMG I’M NEVER GOING TO FALL ASLEEP.” This obviously doesn’t help me try to fall asleep. And because I’m the lightest sleeper ever and I wake up if my cat looks in my direction, so I will especially never fall asleep ever if he starts snoring.
And then I figured out: maybe I’m simply trying to go to bed before I’m actually ready, and before I’m tired enough. Although I’d love to get 8 hours of sleep every night, I’m “suffering” through 6.5-7 hours each night (because I now get up at 6am to meditate for 20 minutes before going to the gym). It’s great. I actually love getting up early before the sun has fully risen and it’s still quiet. I love sitting on my couch with my legs crossed and one hand petting Playbill while I meditate.
Additionally, I’ve started to go to bed before J does because he’s a night owl and I’m not, so he can stay up and do whatever he does at those hours of the night in my living room and I can fall asleep.
It’s really working so far. I still use the sleep spray each night, just as a security blanket, and it’s natural, so that’s OK.
Let’s hope going to bed later and TM can cure me this time around.
Is Alabamans the name for people from Alabama? I’d imagine so. Let me know if I’m wrong.
I’d gone with J last Saturday night to a bar in the Flatiron so he could see one of his good friends from his first job in DC for the first time in years and somehow I ended up hanging out at a table that was more than half full of Alabamans. That’s a sentence I never thought I’d say!
His friend’s fiancee is from Alabama (she was super sweet!) and she met up with four friends from high school/college who were vacationing in the city or lived here. Two of them were not yet 30 and vacationing in the big city for their 5 year wedding anniversary. A different way of life, indeed.
Politics never came up, and probably for the best. But Fucking A, I have never in my life felt so pressured to be engaged and/or married. When we were asked how long we’d been together and we said our 1-year anniversary was the prior week, the couple celebrating their 5-year anniversary looked at each other and said, “oh, we were engaged after a year!” And then they started discussing engagement rings and how I have to take him shopping for one so he doesn’t get me a bad ring. I smiled and nodded and then changed the topic because I’m in no rush to get married. I don’t see it as a necessary step in a relationship or in life.
They were super nice people and I had fun, despite my being incredibly exhausted. But man, am I glad I don’t live in Alabama and that I wasn’t married right out of college. Talk about boring. Where’s the room for life experiences if you’re already playing house when you’re 22?
One thing is for sure: they’ll be fun to drink with at the wedding!
Different strokes, man….
It (Doesn’t) Suck to Be Me
This won’t be much of a review since Avenue Q has been around since 2003. Everyone’s seen it (if you like theatre) and everyone knows it’s greatness. I hadn’t seen Avenue Q onstage (so: at all) since 2005 or 2006. It was a great little show and I saw it twice on Broadway. When J mentioned that he’d heard “Everyone’s A Little Bit Racist” and “The Internet is For Porn,” I thought it’d be a great birthday present and it was.
He liked it so much more than we both ever could’ve imagined. He never stopped laughing. I, of course, enjoyed it, too. It was nice to see it again, this time in a smaller space. The cast was fantastic across the board.
J spent the rest of the weekend ranting and raving to anyone who would listen about how good the show was. And like I said, he’s lost most of his interest in seeing Hamilton now because he doesn’t think it could entertain him more than Avenue Q did. Is Hamilton as funny as Avenue Q? Likely not. I’m certain it has it’s own merits though – duh, of course.
The moral of this story? Since no one can get tickets to Hamilton, go see Avenue Q. Obviously. Because it’s (still) a solid and terrifically entertaining show.
More Than OK
Last Sunday marked one year since I first met this dude after he answered my exhilarating first message on OkCupid that said all of, “Hey!” No, really, that’s all it said. We’d both “liked” each other so maybe that was compelling.
We went to Anejo in Hell’s Kitchen and ate chips and guac, and drank margaritas and he told me, upfront, that he also did not want kids and I was smitten. We went back to Anejo last Sunday and ate more chips and drank more margaritas. We kept it pretty low key. It was lovely.
We spend lovely weekends together and do fun stuff and support each other. Our personalities compliment each other’s and we’re amazing partners-in-crime.
Life affirming indeed. I think women probably still say it (the pain and suffering) was “worth it” because it’s what they’ve been conditioned (brainwashed?) to think. I think women are only recently coming to terms with the fact that they don’t, in fact, need to breed and that’s OK (it’s also okay if you want to have kids, but for the right reasons, please).
I’d love for mothers to ask themselves what they would’ve done with those nine months of torture being pregnant and the following 18 years if they’d chose not to procreate?
Couples realizing they have nothing in common after their kids leave the nest is a huge problem, methinks. I’ve watched couples have kids and never again have hobbies of their own. Sad.com.
Will the media please stop reinforcing this untrue fantasy that people, and women in particular, are incomplete if they don’t have children? Please, please, please.
Travel, have dinner parties, spend time with your friends, go take a cooking class, get a PhD… there are a plethora of other options besides having kids.
This video was super interesting, and really surprising, to be quite honest. I hadn’t expected that we’d progressed enough as a society to have as equally high opinions of women who choose not to take their husband’s last names. It turns out the opinions of women who keep their own last name are higher. They’re regarded as more independent, they are assumed to make more money and be more intelligent.
Of course this isn’t always the case, as a couple of my girlfriends have taken their husband’s last names and they’re not stupid by any means. Though it’s oftentimes to replace their own hard-to-spell last names so they’re more than happy to get rid of it. Perhaps they’re just more traditional, which is neither good nor bad.
I do believe the custom is highly outdated though, dating back to when women were considered property of their husbands being the reason they took their husband’s last name. They pretty much had no choice.
I think that since women, and people in general, are getting married later and later in life, it makes sense that fewer women are changing their last names. Marrying later in life means you probably already have your career established and probably have made a name for yourself in said-field. If you’re going to be perceived as smarter and more independent, you’re probably not going to want to change that perception, especially by male colleagues if you give up your last name easily (as sexist and shitty-sounding as that is, it’s still true).
I never planned on changing my last name if I ever married someone. I’m not traditional and I don’t ever want to be “Mr. and Mrs. (Insert Husband’s Name).” Just because we signed a piece of paper doesn’t mean I don’t get my name on mail anymore.
That’s also a lot of paperwork and that sounds like a huge pain in the ass. When I sent this to my dude and he said, “Oh wow, that’s interesting. But I wouldn’t expect you to take my last name anyways.” Phew. Glad we got that out of the way. I’m glad it wasn’t a deal breaker for him (just to be clear, we have seriously discussed getting married exactly zero times).
I told him I expected him to take my last name anyways 😉
A dude messaged me on OkCupid last week or the week before asking if I wanted to go get a pedicure with him. He was totally not my type (probably solely for the reason that one of his photos was of him at the gym) and I told him just as much. I also asked how many women he’d messaged with the same impersonal message. He wrote back saying that the gym picture was bad, that he’d taken it down, and that yes, he’d messaged a bunch of women with the same question but… BUT… I was the cutest one to answer so far.
Well, for some reason I intrigued by him having the balls to admit that so I agreed to dinner tonight. Today, having not heard from him in a few days, I texted him, confirming a time and place to meet. He said either 8 or 9pm at a dumpling place in Koreatown. I asked if we could do 6:30-7pm because it’s a “school night” and I didn’t want to be out late.
He texted back, “lol okay grandma.” My next text to him was something along the lines of, “Okay, well, I’m canceling. Have a nice Sunday.” He seemed sort of stunned that I was actually canceling and then kept texting me to ask if I was serious and well, OKAY, he was still going to go enjoy dumplings tonight anyways. I told him to have fun and best of luck.
Sorry, dudes, you can’t be total assholes and then be shocked when I cancel our plans. I have more self respect than that.
Two weeks ago I met up for tea at Sanctuary Tea with a dude who I’d met on Happn. It was the first and (still) the only dude I’d met up with but we cut past the bullshit right away, didn’t text for days, and just met. He was really cool – but sort of an oversharer in a way that makes you nervous. But also kind of like ‘okay, cool, he’s down for being vulnerable,’ which is not something a lot of people can do nowadays. He told me was OCD, especially when it came to cleaning.
We went out again last week, this time for drinks at a pub in midtown under the building in which he works that I was also very familiar with (thank you theatre industry jobs). Again, we had fun and he overshared a lot again. Trying to compete with his level of oversharing was difficult. I felt like I wasn’t saying enough. Turns out he was also sort of an internet celeb last year for an online dating experiment of sorts. And by “internet celeb,” I mean all of the commenters on Jezebel wished death to him. Whatever, haters gonna hate. I friended him on FB after that day (or maybe before, I don’t remember) and before that date was over, we scheduled our third date.
He ended up having to cancel it the day before due to family stuff and got very weird in his texting and then disappeared. I’m pretty sure he was slightly bi-polar. We were still friends on FB though so last night, after having a couple of frozen margaritas for my birthday, I de-friended him.
He’ll probably text me in a few days and be like, “wtf, man?” But guess what: I don’t care.
A few weeks back I was sitting by myself at the bar of a German restaurant near my apartment eating a burger. I apparently looked behind me, gave the person a look that said, “don’t talk to me” so of course he stepped right up and started talking to me. He asked for my number and I was so impressed with his brazen personality that I gave it to him.
We went out twice. He’s not my type at all (and he admitted that I wasn’t his type either) and I was trying to give him (”it,” really, the time we were spending together) a chance – see if my type could change since I haven’t had much luck with my “type.”
When I got these texts from him yesterday, I was stunned and also pissed. Being this decisive would probably be incredibly attractive if I was into the dude but since I wasn’t, this was just a text from a guy telling me that where to show up and what time and that he was taking me back to his apartment. Translation of this text: I don’t want to keep seeing you unless I know I’m going to get laid.
Well, douchebro, I don’t take orders.
Hey, I tried. The spark just wasn’t there and unfortunately this dude didn’t know that demanding I go to his apartment wasn’t the way to find that out. On/up.