SHORT:
Last night I dreamt I was in a terrible mood
and then I woke up in a terrible mood
which is proof that
“if you dream it, you can be it!!!”
MEDIUM:
Despite my rancid attitude this morning, I had an okay day, and then a lovely wine night with some evil (complimentary) ppl in my grad cohort. We sat in the rain and drank orange liquid and talked about how amazing it was that we made it through our 9am to 9pm day without being total c*nts.
LONG:
On Thursday, one of my professors called one of my plays “multi-level diarrhea” as a compliment (little did he know, that’s what’s about to go down at my apartment thanks to my aforementioned recent imbibing of orange wine).
I’m glad he liked the play-in-progress, because I really have been feeling like most of my work this month has been sh*t (derogatory).
This morning, I presented pages of my lesbian jesus abortion play for a panel of people I admire, and both my designers were absent, so I had to last-minute-stand-in-front-of-everyone-and-mumble-things-about-gatorade-parking-lots-cheetos-diapers-and-a-girl-shaking-her-ass-in-her-mom’s-face-while-avoiding-addressing-her-trauma-head-on.
My actors did a good job with the play-presentation, but they accidentally delivered a line in the last scene in a way that made it seem like the mom and gf in the play were sleeping together (they very much aren’t! nobody’s sleeping with anybody. everyone’s very much a shell of a human being).
After presenting, I went to Dumbo (amazing that they named Brooklyn neighborhood after the flying elephant ride that seems exciting but ultimately just goes up and down) to meet with my friend about the solo show I want to do… but of course have no idea what said “wanting” or “doing” actually looks like.
Let me know if you have any ideas about how I should spend an hour onstage. I ideally want it to be amazing/perfect and make people laugh/cry/think about their lives and leave being like, “wow, Reid is very smart and talented”.
Right now I sort of just say “tits” a lot which is fun but not funny — the difference between the two is, of course, monumental and feels life-or-death (to me).
I think maybe I’m struggling to write because I’m not in major hate-myself mode re: the rest of my existence right now. I don’t like the myth that we turn pain into art and art into profit and profit into happiness, but sometimes, when I’m enjoying life and not writing anything with pizzaz or pathos, I start to re-believe the lore.
My professor is always talking about how, if you can hear the world singing, it’s your job to write it all down and share the song. Right now, all I’m hearin’ is boring, off-key fragments! I’m hearin’ that Shawn Mendee “Stitchies” song when i want to be hearin’ Italian arias! I run around all day, begging god or whoever is ~up there~ to let me hear at least a verse of something nice. SOon! PLEASE!
Maybe my impatience is the problem… I’ll try to slow down… I guess…
God, it’s impossible to write-about-writing without sounding like Hannah Horvath from HBO’s Girls. I better wrap it up before I start saying stuff about Adam Driver’s c*ck.
^ Peace and love to my family members who read this every week! Especially my grandma! Sry I keep saying things like Adam Driver’s c*ck.
Today a PR guy came to talk to our Business Of The Business class and said that, as writers, we should have a fun/clean/professional online presence where we use “one great f word” every few months. I stared at my 100+ newsletters and thousands of tweets where talk about being a f*cking f*gdyke and thought — wait… which f word… ? (no matter which way you cut it, I’m screwed)
After the PR guy said that, my friend sent me this pic with this caption:
It cracked me up.
And that’s what living’s about!
I love gay-not-gay Shawn Mendee and his dumb Stitchie song. It’s okay that it’s all I can think about rn / that I may never have a another profound thought ever again!
I can still do great things even tho 98% of the time the only thing spinning around my brain are the lyrics to “The Thong Song”. Remember “The Thong Song”? Go listen to it. Jk don’t. It definitely doesn’t hold up in 2022.
Go listen to the new Taylor Swift album instead.
It’s sooo dumb (in a cool way).
C U Next Tuesday.
Thank you for subscribing. If this is your first time reading the newsletter, read the archives. Sometimes it’s funny, sometimes it’s not – it’s very much like when people slip on ice.
Sincerely,
Reid
Venmo: @rpope-venmo-26
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