No Day But Today.

You like that? The title promises optimism and bubbles filled with sunshine. Lets see if I can come through just this once.

Tonight was a big night. And I know what you all are thinking, "What's with the title, Marissa? Finally have some sort of breakthrough in group tonight? A free bed in the local asylum?"

No. No. And No.

I ventured out tonight. BY MYSELF. The ultimate single girl move. Go me. And loos like I survived. Maybe a little too well. Maybe I liked it a little too much and will never ride on the relationship bandwagon again.

As the title reveals, I went to go see RENT tonight. It was here in town and I could absoultely not pass up one ticket to go see my favorite show. Ever. Period. That's it. I'm going. I went.

Going into the theater, I ran into two of the most loveliest people in the world. One was my old psychology teacher from high school, who I insanely adore. And by insanely I mean, think about everyday, leave anonymous notes in his classroom with my phone number and planned rendevous at the local grocery stores. I felt like crying. And whats even weirder than the course of events to lead me to him tonight, is that I was just talking about him today. Maybe I should wish for a million dollars, too. And then I'll be standing behind a big wad of cash while awaiting my ticket to be stubbed.

And person number two, Ryan, a good friend of mine from school. Seeing him makes me feel temporarily okay. We met one of my first days at college. He was walking by me, as I sat indian style, no no, 'scuse me, Native American style on the floor and I just muttered to this complete stranger, "I am cycnical." Thus a beautiful friendship based on cynicism, witty retorts and nice hugs. We talked for a half an hour or so, when he confessed that he always thought I was..."pretty."

Now wait a minute here.

Pretty? It's been quite a while, folks, since I have been called "pretty."

How am I suppose to react to that? I blushed a little bit, I'm sure, and thanked him.

He also called me "expanded." I knew he wasn't trying to imply that I was fat or something, though I did have to ask for a little more detail on how exactly I am "expanded."

"You think. I like that."

He's got me there. Call the doctor, we have a thinker on our hands. Too many thinkers and we may have some sort of anarchist revolt on American soil. Watch out, that can never be good.

By the time I got into myseat, my spirit was higher than it had been in a long time. And then it happened. The usual forces ate beans for breakfast and took a shit right there in the theater. I looked over to my right and who do you think I was sitting next to?

A CHILD.

Mom must've missed the memo that RENT can also be called GAYS WITH AIDS. Hope she brought her pencil and notebook for a quick lesson or two.

Though I thought she handled it very well. The sobbing softened to rolling tears by the middle of intermission, though commenced right on curtain call at the beginning of Act Two.

By Act Two, I myself was still in a good mood, very in awe, to say the least, of the performance and the bulk of the emotion I felt while experiencing it. But then it started to sink in. The horror of it all. This is life. Everywhere around me is life. I floated, for a minute or two, I think, out of my own body, and rose up to the top of the theater and looked down. All I saw were heads. And a few red and purple gawdy hats of the Red Hat Society ladies. And I couldn't even find my own. I was insignificant. Like my life. Insignificant.

Then the tears came. I had to ask the little girl next to me for a Kleenex out of her Hello Kitty purse.

I stayed in my seat until it was nearly empty after the show ended. I couldn't go out into the crowd. I needed to collect myself. And a few minutes later, I waslked outside and met my friend outside. (My very first work friend! <3!) We went out for coffee and spent the night in the parking lot near the RV we insisted the RENTERS were staying on. We rolled down the window and played La Vie Boheme, screaming at the top of our lungs.

To hand-crafted beers made in local breweries
To yoga, to yogurt, to rice and beans and cheese
To leather, to dildos, to curry vindaloo
To huevos rancheros and Maya Angelou

Emotion, devotion, to causing a commotion
Creation, vacation

Mucho masturbation

Compassion, to fashion, to passion when it's new

To Sontag

To Sondheim

To anything taboo

Ginsberg, Dylan, Cunningham and Cage

Lenny Bruce

Langston Hughes

To the stage

To Uta

To Buddha

Pablo Neruda, too

Why Dorothy and Toto went over the rainbow
To blow off Auntie Em

La vie Boheme

Bisexuals, trisexuals, homo sapiens,
Carcinogens, hallucinogens, men, Pee Wee Herman
German wine, turpentine, Gertrude Stein
Antonioni, Bertolucci, Kurosawa
Carmina Burana

To apathy, to entropy, to empathy, ecstasy
Vaclav Havel -- The Sex Pistols, 8BC,
To no shame -- never playing the Fame Game

To marijuana

To sodomy,
It's between God and me
To S and M

La vie Boheme