Two entries, two days in a row? It seems too much of a dream, right? Well, believe it, kids - I am here!
A friend from Boston visited for the long Memorial Day weekend, which weather wise turned out to be quite beautiful! Highlights of the weekend included spending five-hours Saturday night at Blockeads – only the best place in the world, Hello! $4 flavored margaritas; a first-time trip for us both to the Guggenheim to see the special Frank Lloyd Wright exhibit; and a marathon of “The Golden Girls” on WE, which made it rather difficult for us to leave the house Monday.
Perhaps the top highlight of the weekend was a trip to the cinema to see Easy Virtue, the new film based on the Noel Coward play starring Colin Firth, Kristin Scott Thomas and…Jessica Biel!!!
Mary Camden??? Playing the lead role in a British period film (the action takes place during the 1930s)??? For real???
I’ll admit I had reservations about the former teen star tackling Coward opposite two of Britain’s top thesps. But after reading stellar reviews of her performance in Variety, The Hollywood Report, The New York Observer and Rolling Stone, I was quite intrigued.
I must say, I think Jessica Biel does dazzle. Colin Firth and Kristen Scott Thomas give their usual first-rate performances, but there was something so refreshing to see Jessica Biel hold her own. She’s quite funny, quick-witted and also moving in the role of an American socialite. It’s a fairly light and trivial film, beautiful costumes and fantastic music. Jessica even sings the opening number Mad About the Boy and does so beautifully. This girl has some serious singing skills to boot. Side note: she’s playing Sarah Brown in Guys and Dolls at The Hollywood Bowl this summer – I’d kill to see that!
Between this film and another good performance in The Illusionist, I am surprised to say that I am a Jessica Biel fan, and look forward to more interesting performances from her in future.
Don’t believe me? Go see the film, and discover her talent for yourself! Attached is a clip of her singing that opening number – have a listen. Until next time, om, chanti, chanti, chanti, namaste!
It’s been nearly a week since we last met – the weather and long weekend were too perfect to spend inside on a computer. Let’s catch up! It’s been a busy few days, and we’ve got much to discuss!
Thursday night, I saw Guys and Dolls on Broadway – this was my second time seeing this production. Despite the negative reviews the show’s received, you’re seeing Guys and Dolls on Broadway – without a smidgen of doubt, one of the best musicals ever written! Period – tied only with Bye Bye Birdie and Sweeney Todd. I was lucky enough to see The Donmar Warehouse production in London four times, which was beyond brilliant. If you have the opportunity to see the current Broadway revival, go for it! Again, I reiterate, it’s Guys and Dolls on Broadway!!! There is certainly something special about that experience.
The end of Act I never fails to make me well up and cry – each and every time I see the show, I nearly lose it when Sky Masterson asks Sarah Brown what kind of doll she is?
“A mission doll,” she replies and slams the door of the Save-a-Soul Mission.
Queue end of Act I music…ahhh…it’s so romantic and melodramatic. It gets me every time.
For most people, Miss Adelaide is the showstopper – her subplot with Nathan Detroit often overshadows that of Sky and Sarah’s love story. Of all the characters in Guys and Dolls, Sarah Brown is generally considered to be the blandest. However, I’ve always thought her the most interesting character. Her journey resonates the most with me, and her happy ending excites in me the greatest joy.
I spent the greater part of Thursday night and Friday wondering why this show and Sister Sarah Brown appeal to me so deeply.
Friday night, I met a friend for drinks – I had not seen him in a while, so the greater portion of the start of the evening was spent catching up and making small talk. After a couple of rounds, we jumped into the ever-juicy topic of marriage and relationships. I do not know if it was mere coincidence or whether he is a regular blog reader, but my friend asked my opinion regarding marriage and open-relationships.
We did not see eye to eye on the subject; only on one point did we manage to agree. My romanticism, idealism and strict moral values are strongly aligned with that of Sarah Brown’s.
I am her and she is me.
Sarah Brown’s moral backbone and character arc are close to my own. Through the course of the show, she changes. Meeting Sky Masterson is the catalyst that awakens a side in her that has been deeply buried. I love Sarah Brown, because she loosens up, she let’s her hair down and recognizes that the world is not black-and-white. But in doing so, she does not abandon all that she believes in. Sarah reconciles her idealism and romanticism with the world as it is.
I think anyone who knows me well will agree I have changed greatly in the past six years. When I moved to Boston, I was far more reserved, uptight and close-minded. But with time and a few dulce-de-leches mixed in along the way, I too have loosened up and let my own hair down – sometimes with the help of a flat iron. Like Sarah, I refuse to abandon my idealistic core and hope to reconcile my romantic dreams with the world as it is.
At my friend’s suggestion, I am going to apply the principles of The Secret to my own life. He’s insistent it worked for him. I started reading the book this morning. I’ll admit much of it is hard to swallow and easy to dismiss as ridiculous. However, I do believe in the importance of eliminating negative energy and thoughts from the mind. And I also believe that with positive thoughts come positive results.
Over the course of the next few weeks, I’m going to try to radically change my way of thinking in favor of The Secret – and perhaps; my heart’s desires will manifest this summer.
How many of you also love and adore Guys and Dolls? Have any of you tried The Secret and found it successful? And who would have thought that Jessica Biel would prove herself a dazzling and gifted actress? More on that third question later!
Till next time, om, chanti, chanti, chanti, namaste.
There has been an alarming lack of comments lately; I am sensing a consistent pattern. Whenever an entry is angst-ridden, depressing or slightly controversial I hear from you. The more cheerful and review-driven ones do not elicit a strong reaction…or rather any reaction. An obvious observation – I wonder what it says about humanity?
I suppose drawing major conclusions on mankind based upon the blog comments I receive is digging deep, but dare I say, we as people are drawn to drama? We like conflict. We respond to it.
And since I so desperately want to hear from you all, today’s entry is topical and opinionated. The subject: gay marriage. For those of you not intimately familiar with my inner-workings and turbulence, my opinion on the subject may surprise you.
To ask me whether I support marriage equality is to ask a complex question with no simple answer.
This past Sunday Broadway stars combined efforts to support gay marriage at a rally in Times Square. Despite the urgings of a few friends, I chose not to attend. Partly, because I had dinner plans with another friend. Partly, because I do not like standing among large noisy crowds. And also partly due to the fact that I am not huge proponent for marriage equality.
To say that any minority group must be denied a fundamental human right is outrageous. To believe that women or blacks or Hispanics should not be allowed to vote, should have their voices silenced, is ludicrous. No singular group of people should be discriminated against.
In this sense, of course, I theoretically support marriage equality. Were it a biracial couple being denied the right, I would not hesitate to show strong signs of support. But as is so often the case, the world as it should be, is different from the world as it is. My opinions are no different. I can admit on a theoretical level that gay marriage is fundamentally right; however, at the end of the day, as a “homo” strutting the streets of the Big Apple, something about marriage between two men does not sit well with me.
Do I believe homosexuality is wrong? A sin? No, of course not – although, for reasons galore, I will probably see many of you in Hell! There is nothing unnatural about who I am or the way I feel. Would I like to get married someday? Yes, I think I might.
So, where does the hesitation stem from?
As I much as I feel that no minority should be denied certain inalienable rights, I also believe that many legal rights should be earned; there are very few things humans are simple entitled to. I’m not sure I believe marriage is one of those things.
I do not believe the gay community, as a general whole, has earned the right to marriage. The community has not demonstrated an ability to be monogamous and faithful – two things that are necessary for successful marriage. When a couple takes vows, they are making a commitment to one another. That commitment is not: “In sickness and in health, in threesomes and in orgies.”
Here’s the thing – I do not know any long-term, monogamous gay male couples. Not one. I do know many couples with “house boys,” that engage in threesomes and sex parties, and go through relationships every two years or so. Couples who believe anything outside their own bedroom is fair game, and what happens in Ogunquit stays in Ogunquit. To say you love your partner in this situation is fucking laughable.
In the time, I have been “out-of-the-closet,” I have found the gay culture to be overtly sexual, shallow and just plain cruel. The process of coming out is overwhelmingly frightening. The anticipation of friends’ and family members’ reactions is terrifying. We do live in a world where homosexuality is not universally embraced.
Which is why I am completely baffled by the way gays treat other gays. We are horrible to one other – the number of insults and names I have endured from those I most need respect from outnumbers any taunting I experienced in school.
Before I came out, I had a fairly high opinion of myself. Since the first experience, my self-esteem has taken hit after hit after hit. Happiness and confidence come from within, they say – to a certain extent, that is true. But how many times can one be rejected by those he makes himself most vulnerable to without their being some permanent emotional scarring? The insults, rejections and lies are decimating my sense of self-worth.
I do not think myself attractive, worthwhile, “cool” or dateable anymore – and I’m sorry, but these feelings result from the goddamn pricks I’ve met that consistently treat me like shit. I went to therapy in college to discuss my issues (coincidentally with a ridiculously cute, intelligent gay therapist). I’ve made some progress with my issues, but relating back to the point…why should a community noted for its sexual promiscuity, cruel behavior and inability to sustain long meaningful relationships have the right to get married? So that they may raise the incidence of infidelity and divorce?
If a straight man cheats – say Elliot Spitzer or John Edwards – he’s vile, disgusting, an asshole crucified by his peers. If a gay man cheats, well, hey it’s just another normal day in the Gay Ghetto (my Richard coined that brilliant phrase). For proof of this, look no further than my own experiences.
During my time in Ogunquit, there were several individuals who laughed at my belief in monogamous relationships. I was once told, with more than a hint of sarcasm, “Good luck.” There were even individuals who on more than one occasion reduced me to tears with insults and unkind words.
“Why?” I asked.
“To prepare and toughen you up for the gay world, kid.”
No joke.
In my life, I have met one gay male who proved himself to be genuine; not a prick. I am nearly positive he reads this as he’s left comments before. I do recognize him to be the hopeful exception to the rule. And I myself have never cheated, nor could I ever allow myself to form a relationship in such a sick environment, but I need more than one person to look to as a symbol of hope for the future.
In order to support marriage equality, I need to see that it is a real possibility for two men to commit to each other. I have never seen that, and until I do, I won’t be at the next rally waving my rainbow flag. Until the insults and cruel forms of rejection end, I will never quite feel comfortable in the gay world.
Okay, so finally leave me some comments!!! And I want to leave you on a much lighter note, please watch the Sherlock Holmes preview below – I cannot wait for this movie!!! Until we meet again, om, chanti, chanti, chanti, namaste.
I’m sitting here at work, listening to Michelle Branch, silently mouthing/“belting” “Breathe,” wondering if there is anything in life that brings a greater sense of fulfillment and satisfaction than silently “belting” a Michelle Branch song.
On that note – where the hell did she go??? Why is she no longer on the radar? Seriously – if there ever was a true voice for the 21st century angsty 20-something, it’s Michelle Branch. She feels my pain. She experiences my woe. And she does so with some seriously fierce hair.
On the rare and miraculous chance that Michelle Branch reads this blog, please know:
You have changed my life for the better, and I need you to come back on the scene.
I will not go into a ridiculously long and detailed review (as I normally do), but last night I finally had the opportunity to see In the Heights. You know, I’ve only been trying to get to it for a year…
Any and all hype you’ve heard regarding the show is deserved. In the Heights is poignant, funny and hopeful. One of the most interesting aspects of the show to me was the exploration of the effects of gentrification on the people whom it displaces – gentrification is, of course, a favorite topic of mine. Despite a very specific setting in a very specific culture, the show’s overarching themes transcend. I was completely captivated and moved; I think this is a show everyone should be required to see. And I'm head over heels for Robin de Jesús.
I’m sort of alarmed by the lack of comments for my last entry, subject: Sienna Miller. I think the talent and beauty that is Sienna Miller should warrant a few, if not several comments.
OH! And the preview for the movie musical Nine is online – watch it below! I have never seen this show and do not know the music, but I am SO LOOKING forward to it. It has a ridiculous cast, and the trailer is utterly gorgeous. Penélope Cruz rocks my socks off and just needs her second Oscar handed to her now. Girl is FIERCE!
The weekend is here…the weather is beautiful…I am going to Blockheads tonight…sigh…
Seriously, does it get better than that?
Give me some comments, folks, and until my next entry or Michelle Branch’s return to the top of the pop charts, om, chanti, chanti, chanti, namaste.
Okay, so for the past few months, I have dedicated one portion of my brain to obsess over the upcoming Roundabout Theatre Company production of After Miss Julie starring Sienna Miller – marking her Broadway debut!
Since the initial announcement, I have thought about After Miss Julie at least once a day. When the day finally comes that I head over to the American Airlines Theatre to see Patrick Marber’s take on Strindberg’s classic, I will shit myself – guaranteed.
Let’s back up a bit…Miss Julie was written by August Strindberg in 1888 – it’s a play about class and sex – two of my absolute favorite things. It’s a three-person play: Miss Julie and two servants: one male and one female. I really do not want to give too much away, but suffice it to say, were Miss Julie and Hedda Gabler locked in a room to duke it out until death, it would be a toss up who’d walk away unscathed.
Miss Julie is strong-willed, brilliant and manipulative. In short, she is one fierce bitch. This is one powerhouse role for an actress – subsequently, Miss Julie is one of my dream roles.
In 2003, Patrick Marber (of Closer and Notes on a Scandal fame) wrote his take on the classic drama, After Miss Julie - moving the setting of the piece to an English manor on the night of the 1945 landslide victory of the British Labour Party.
I know nothing of the history of Britain’s Labour Party or their 1945 landslide victory, but I do know that following the end of World War II, the rigid British class system started to disintegrate. The shift in Miss Julie’s own power within her household is an ideal metaphor for the systematic collapse.
In short, Patrick Marber’s play sounds ridiculously riveting. To top it off, the show will star SIENNA MILLER. Sienna Miller, whose name has been unfairly run through the mud since she first came on the scene, is an actress of untapped potential. This girl is brilliantly talented – believe me – she’s not yet had the opportunity to show us the full range of her abilities.
Those who doubt me…go rent Alfie. She had a small role in the film as a bi-polar party girl, but my God, the promise she demonstrated was quite exciting. Sienna really bared her soul in that role.
The play has the potential to be completely exhilarating and fascinating. I’m freaking the “F” out, and will be first in line when tickets go on sale. I think you should be second. Side note - the amazingly wonderful Roundabout Theatre Company is also producing the first Broadway revival of Bye Bye Birdie next season- one of three musicals I'd die without.
Until next time, om, chanti, chanti, chanti, namaste.
OH! Quick update – I smiled at the cute boy in yoga class last night. He did not reciprocate; rather, he turned his head and looked down. I think I have been face rejected! And Lisa, loved your comments last time on stream of consciousness; still not loving Mrs. Dalloway though.
It’s been quite a few days since my last entry – reason?
Writer’s block.
Okay, so, no, I guess I am not a writer in the most professional sense of the word. I am certainly not being paid to write “Made in India.” And I’m not even sure how many people will even read this, but nonetheless…for days, I have had no thoughts to share.
Lately I’ve been reading Virgina Woolf’s classic Mrs. Dalloway. Woolf writes in the stream of consciousness – a style I find difficult. There is not a strong connection between one thought and the next. Of course, this is how the human mind works – we jump from one fantasy to an unrelated memory in the same breath, but to encounter such form in literature is trying for me.
To combat my writer’s block, I will attempt to overthrow my need for structure and simply record whatever thoughts pop into my head – an Ode to Virginia Woolf as it were.
When you stop to mull it over, the concept of writer’s block becomes quite an interesting. The idea that there is something or someone literally preventing creative thoughts and energy from flowing from our brains into another form is rather troublesome.
Writer’s block could apply to any area of life really – we all suffer from mental obstructions of one kind or another. Connecting back to a previous entry, my lackluster dating life of late has far more to do with the barricade I have constructed in my head than it does with an external force.
I do not go on dates, because internally, I perceive myself to be unattractive, unintelligent and unworthy of attention. It is only this fear that keeps me from speaking to the ridiculously hott boy who’s been coming to my yoga studio recently. He may very well be just as attracted to me, but the negative energy in my head is so powerful, it has created a damn that prevents me from simply smiling at him and saying hello.
In yoga, we move through asanas or poses to clear and prepare the mind and body for meditation. In essence, yoga is designed to eliminate these emotional barriers that hinder all aspects of our lives. If only it were as simple as moving through five sun salutations a day to break through the clutter in our heads.
The human mind is complex, and so are the roadblocks we build in them. As such, there is more to the cure for mental blocks than just a chattarunga push-up.
But what is the solution? Two hours of yoga a day? A walk through the park in the sun? People watching in Union Square?
Perhaps our mental blocks are necessary evils? Voices buried deep in our consciousness that challenge us to work and think harder; strive for loftier goals. I honestly do not know.
I’ll leave with my dear friend Lisa’s word of the day…SCHMUCK or SHMUCK – completely unrelated to today’s entry; but hey, that’s stream of consciousness for you.
Until next we meet, om, chanti, chanti, chanti, namaste.
Forgive the following entry, it’s totes snobby, but hey, that’s part of my charm, right?!
I need a new cell phone – currently, I am the “proud” owner of a Motorola razor and have been so for a year-and-a-half. The longest relationship I have ever maintained with a mobile phone.
According to The Boston Globe, the owner of the Motorola razor is the following:
“Once the phone used by the uber-fashionable, it's now favored by clerks at Claire's, those who refuse to change ‘Gold Digger’ as their ring tone, and folks who are still quoting Paris Hilton catch phrases.”
Despite my New England prep background and my parents’ new Volvo, my phone says to people:
“Hey! This is the guy who served me my bagel at Penn Station this morning or the boy who works the graveyard shift at the new Dunkin Donuts on 9th Avenue.”
It’s time to upgrade the phone and the image it conjures.
When it comes to the mobile, I firmly believe that our little friends are the ultimate status symbol. Particularly as one who lives in the city and does not own a car, for me, the cell phone is the most important tech showpiece.
Despite this notion of mine, I’ve never owned the latest, hottest, trendiest phone. The razor was my first attempt into that world. Prior to it, I had the classic Nokia. Unfortunately for me, unlike Grace Kelly movies, some classics do die.
I certainly think an iPhone would go brilliantly with all of my outfits, but the problem is:
A.) I am on the family plan still, and will have a difficult time getting my mother to upgrade…and seriously, do I want to give up the family plan status just yet?! I think not.
B.) I want to look cute, but technology and Cory do not get along particularly well, so I’d spend the majority of my iPhone time confused and angry.
This begs the question: What is the phone for me? Something that is hip and cool. Yet easy to use and Cory friendly. A phone that does not look like it was stolen from the sketchy bodega on the corner of 40th and 8th, but is also one that won’t cause my parents’ wallet to go into cardiac arrest?
I just do not know.
Thoughts, guys??? Seriously, I need advice!
Until my wireless communication woes are solved, om, chanti, chanti, chanti, namaste.
Tomorrow morning is the announcement of the 2009 Tony Award nominees - this means two things:
1. I do not have much time to write a proper entry - never fear, post-tomorrow, one will be here! Yes, that totes rhymed.
2. I think we need to celebrate by watching a musical number from the film version of one of the most adorable Broadway shows ever...Hairspray...
oh, and, consequently, relating to last entry's subject:
3. This number is also my theme song in life.
Since I strongly believe in singing out loud anywhere and everywhere, please google the lyrics and get ready to belt along - you know that I am.
Consequently, having not had seen the Broadway show when the film version was released, I did not know quite what to expect from Hairspray. On a humid summer day off from the Ogunquit Playhouse in the summer of '07 (where I was, at the time, Company Manager), I treated myself to a trip to the movie theater. When this song started to play, and the lyrics rolled from Nicki Blonsky's lips to my ear, I can say, in all sincerity, no song had ever resonated so deeply with me.
I'm nearly positve there were tears streaming resulting from the recognition of seeing myself in Tracey Turnblad. At the time, I had an enormous crush on a dancer in one of the Playhouse shows. Many a time that summer, I belted to that song in my car whilst dreaming of him. To this day, "I Can Hear the Bells" holds a dear and near place to my heart.
sigh...
Enjoy!
And until next time, om, chanti, chanti, chanti, namaste.
Spring has arrived, which means love is the air…hypothetically speaking. Well, for others, at least.
Ladies and, well, let’s be honest, probably just more ladies, I am the world’s worst dater. I do not know how to flirt. I do not know to date. And I certainly do not how to start and sustain a lasting relationship.
What I do know is how to have a dozen or more secret and futile crushes at any given time. I also know how to psycho-ly facebook stalk former flames (likely from afar). And I know how to awkwardly and bitchly treat boys I think are cute.
Is it me? Or this kind of behavior rampant among the gays? Or perhaps it’s an issue of my generation as a whole? I certainly have a number of single friends who recently have felt like dating and relationships are completely elusive.
And will one really make me happier?
Who the hell really knows, but when it’s nice outside, one can’t help but long for a cute, 6’1”, boy next door type to dine with outside at Blockheads…or grab an ice latte with before traversing Central Park…or shopping for Pottery Barn furniture with for your newly restored pre-war co-op complete with stainless steel appliances and cherry cabinets…
I want what I cannot have, and therein lies life’s greatest tease.
I leave today with these questions: Who has a cute friend to set Cory up with? And what are your thoughts on 20-something dating in 21st century Manhattan? And seriously, what is swine flu???
Till next time, om, chanti, chanti, chanti, namaste.
Cory Michael is an ardent admirer of animal crackers, moon roofs and Peets' Coffee. A full-time yogi, his exceptionally fit and slender figure is just another example of the successful outsourcing from India.
