Things I Have Hated This Week
- Snow: I know it sounds strange, but I’m allergic to severely cold weather. My body shuts down when the temperature hits the single digits. The first several days in the city–which started out at one, singular, less-than-sensational degree above zero–were no picnic.
- Ice and snow: See above.
- Fear of falling icicles: So pretty, but so dangerous when hurtling to the ground at 100 miles per hour.
- Art that’s so bad they ought to pay us for watching it.
- The knowing “hmph” that some (generally male) audience members feel compelled to emit after enduring a hideous section of dance, as if to say, “Oh, I see what he’s saying. How clever and curious…” They should be screaming for the artist’s head on a goddamn silver platter is what I think.
- Knowing that dozens, if not hundreds, of crappy artists are getting booked around the country, when I know that our theatre company could beat up their theatre company with one arm tied behind its back.
- Booking crap performances and sacrificing the few standards I have left for the sake of the bottom line.
- Not seeing my pornmogul boyfriend for days at a time.
So, I endure all this, and then I find out that the town I call home and to which I’m returning is actually more stressful than this place? What the hell?
P. S. There are, however several things I love about New York–notably those dealing with the subway. I love the rush of air as a train enters the station. I love sidewalk goodbyes cut short as squeaks and rattles float up through gratings, announcing a train’s approach. Other stuff, too, but that’s all for now.
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