if i just lay here

i'm leaving on a jet plane

Tue, 18 Mar 2008 00:57:00 -0400

I applied to be an intern at the the children’s theatre.

the place where my dreams began.

i was hired.

i started the month after i graduated. at this point, i had decided that new york city was where i would end up.

i would talk about it to all my friends.

“i’m moving to new york city!” i would say.

“when?” they would look at me suspiciously.

“uh, i don’t know. soon.” i’d say back.

i didn’t decided to actually act on this dream until december. i remember sweeping the stage after a show.

the stage lights were still on. i stopped center stage and looked out to the empty theater. the lights shining in my face.

i clutched the broom tight. i did this little dance number with the broom.

turn. leap. turn. arms up. head up. turn again.

i used the broom like it was a person.

out of breath- i sit down on the stage.

someone turns out the stage lights. the work lights are on.

i think. is it time? is it time to do this? i mean, why not?.

i went home that night and told my parents that i was ready to move.

i gave the theater notice.

i booked my one way flight.

february 6. 2001.

that was the day i would take everything that i owned to new york city.

i was 18.

ready. set. go

Sun, 16 Mar 2008 23:12:00 -0400

yes, i was 16.

so that meant my hormones were outta control. after chris moved away i tried to focus on other things.

i know you are probably thinking how silly this all sounds. falling in love with someone at such a young age. i don’t know if i would call it falling in love- but your first is always special- and chris was special. he still is.

i had looked into a few colleges my senior year. i wanted to go to school for acting. my parents took me to a few states to audition for a few colleges. i was accepted but the school that i really wanted was very expensive and i wasn’t going to get that much financial aid.

everyone around me had already decided where they would be in the fall.

i was sitting in english class one day and we had to write about where we saw ourselves this time next year. mrs. jones told us it could be as long or as simple as we wanted.

i ripped out a piece of paper from my notebook and wrote-

“nyc” and then i circled it. i looked around and everyone was still writing. i looked up and noticed mrs. jones looking at me.

i smiled. she smiled.

after class she told me that i better send her my first playbill.

big dreams.

before i knew it-

pomp and circumstance.

i had graduated high school.

what the fuck would i do now?

nyc with a circle around it.

my first...

Sun, 16 Mar 2008 00:49:36 -0400

NOW: it’s 12:26 and my grandfather just had a heart attack- they don’t expect him to make through the night. i need to write.

THE PAST: so i told my mother that i wanted to live in new york. at that point i had made my mind up. i was 16.

i finally had my first sexual experience with a guy. i was 16. it was with a boy named- chris. we were doing a play at the “hip” theatre in little rock. i knew of him before then because he used to plays at the children’s theatre.

anyway, we were doing this musical. this musical had a lot of kids my own age in it. one night we were backstage waiting to go on - when chris grabbed me and kissed me.

it felt like an explosion. my entire body felt warm. i had never experienced anything like it in my life. then it was over.

the lights came up and…..ACTION.

a week or so later.. chris was over at my house spending the night. we had just finished a show.

we were on my bed. i was complaing about how my back hurt. chris offered to give me a massage. the next thing i knew… he was kissing my neck.

another explosion. BAM! this one was bigger than the first. i loved the feeling. chris then turned my head around and kissed me on the lips again. our tongues became one.

i freaked out.

my parents were downstairs asleep. and a boy was kissing me.

i decided at that point i needed to take a shower. i left chris in my room.

i went into the bathroom and took off my clothes and slipped in the shower. the water felt so good hitting my skin.

what the fuck was going on? my mind was flooded with thoughts. i showered and went into my bedroom. chris was there- on my bed. naked.

i slipped my towel off. and turned off the lights.

chris and i contined our “relationship”. i remember when princess diana died. i was at his house and we had just finished fucking around. we took a break to watch the funeral on tv. i remember sitting on his parent’s leather couch- watching history unfold before my eyes- when actually- that was the last fucking thing on my mind.

i was now a junior. almost there. i was almost at the point where i could break free from everything that i felt was holding me back. i was 16. chris decided to continue his high school at performing arts school in the northeast. i remember the night he told me he was moving.

it was a hot humid arkansas night. we had just finished fucking around in his room. chris needed to smoke- so we took a walk. i had my hands in my pocket as we walked around his neighborhood.

the humidty was so thick- you could it cut with a knife.

“i’m moving”

“you’re what?”

“i’m leaving in august.”

i wanted to jump on him and kiss him. i wanted him to hold me tight like he did when we were in bed. i was 16.

“i’m going to finish high school somewhere else, i think it’s the best thing for me right now”

i didn’t know how to tell him that i had this feelings for him. but did i really know that fuck feelings were? i was 16.

i wanted to cry. i wanted to run. i wanted to pretend this was never happening. i had already told my parents that was i gay. why couldn’t what was happening with chris continue? i didn’t understand.

he left. this was my first experience of my heart breaking.

i was 16.

the defining moment

Sat, 15 Mar 2008 16:24:27 -0400

i thought i was a total bad ass.

not only did i fool my parents but i got drunk and got to hang out with people older than me.

my brother at this point had already moved out of the house to live with some really strange people. they all wore black and liked to smoke pot. then it turned out that he liked to steal things. and even steal things from my parents.

i remember coming home from school one day and my mother was at the kitchen table crying. she explained in between sobs that he had come over to visit and stole their atm card out of her purse and went to the bank. i did my best to comfort her. my feelings toward my older brother started to turn hostile. how could he do this to our parents? how could he come over and steal from the house where they raised him? i couldn’t even begin to understand.

i continued on with high school. acting and performing every chance i got. i joined the competitve drama team at school. our team would go around schools in arkansas to compete in various dramatic events. i won lots of trophies. i was so proud of those. i thought it told me that i was actually good at acting.

that i was good at something.

i wasn’t “out” at high school. i was called “fag” here and there but it never really bothered me. i totally removed myself from the “friends” i had there and considered my theatre friends, my true friends. when i was around them i just felt free to be myself. say what i want to say. be goofy

be michael.

and of course - drink.

at some point in high school, my mom and i went to new york city to visit my uncle who had moved there recently. i was totally excited.

i mean, come on- a gay theatre boy. new york city = heaven

i remember the first time i walked down a new york city sidewalk. something about it felt so right. like i had been walking those streets my entire life. i also noticed the looks i was getting - from other guys -

was i being cruised? ok, so maybe i didn’t really understand what it meant to cruise or be cruised then - but i still knew that i was getting attention.. and i liked it.

we went to see the musical RENT. i know this might sound totally cheesy but it was during this show that i decided that i needed to tell my parents that i was gay.

at the same time the show kind of scared the shit out of me. i saw these kids who were living in new york city. addicted to drugs, broke and living with AIDS.

is that what happens when you move to new york?

i fell in love with new york city during that trip.

i remember the plane ride home like it was yesterday.

“mom, i think i’m going to live there one day..”

“oh really, michael. we will see.”

“no, mom. seriously, i am.”

she nodded her head and said that’s great.

just like the time i told her that i wanted to be on stage.

enter: stage right

Fri, 14 Mar 2008 17:26:11 -0400

like i said- i wasn’t like most boys.

i went to catholic school k-8 and we used to go see these plays at the arkansas arts center children’s theatre. that’s basically the extent of your field trips. it was on one of these trips that i decided i want to be… an actor.

i dragged my parents to some of the shows on the weekends and told them my dreams of one day being up there. they nodded and said that was great. since i was probably 11 or 12 i looked up the number of the theatre in the phonebook and gave them a call. i asked how someone could be on stage. they gave me a list of audtion dates and i begged my parents to take me.

it was a combination of excitement and nervousness the first time i ever audtioned for a show. i had to sing a song, like home on the range while some lady played the piano and then i had to learn this little combination dance. this is when i learned that i could actually dance.

so of course.. now i wanted to be an actor and a dancer.

i learned of a program at the theatre for kids during the summer and my parents paid out the ass to send me. i did that for several summers.

at this point i had realized that i was different than most boys.

at this point i realized that i liked boys.

i started high school, begged my parents not to send me to Catholic High school for boys- thank god they listened. i wanted to go to public school because the high school in my town had a great theater program. the best in the state.

and sure enough, i was in every musical and play for the next 4 years.

not only did i do shows there, i FINALLY landed a role at the children’s theatre - the place where my dream began.

i auditioned for a play at a “hip” theare in downtown little rock. yes, i said the word hip and little rock in the same sentence..

anyway, this is where i learned what it meant to be gay.

every guy that worked at the theatre was gay. and everyone was so accepting. besides myself, there was only probably 3 or 4 other kids my age. i was 15 at the time.

i remember the first time i ever lied to my parents about going out. i had at least 10 people involved in the scheme.

the theatre was doing evita and i wanted to go the cast party at my friend laura’s house. i told my parents that the cast was going over to her house after the show to have dinner and just relax. and that it would be easier for me to just stay the night there because it would be so late when we were done. i had laura tell my parents that there wouldn’t be drinking and that she would make sure nothing happened to me.

i drank so much that night. we all did. i drank so much that somehow at one point i remember putting on of laura’s dresses and walking the runway in her kitchen while everyone cheered me on. ( that was the only time i have ever worn a dress)

then we started dancing. and we drank more. we were all dancing in the kitchen when i said-

“omg, the floor is shaking!!”

with her arms in the air, drink in her hand - splashing everywhere-

“oh, its ok. its not like the floor’s gonna cave in to the den downstairs”

at the point, over the loud music, we heard a crash downstairs.

i start heading downstairs and when i get down there, i started laughing so hard that i hit the floor.

the celing fan had fallen because of us dancing upstairs.

in the beginning..

Tue, 11 Mar 2008 22:17:51 -0400

i like to tell people that i was born in memphis. i was - but only because the little town my parents lived in didn’t have a hospital that could do a c-section..safely.

so everyone took out their calendars and decided the day i would be brought into this world.

that day was - september 23, 1982. i was ripped from my mother’s womb at 9:55 am.

then back to arkansas to that small little town where my parents met at a roller skating rink and fell in love.

i wasn’t the first child they had. my older brother was born the natural way. we lived in that small little town till i was 2 and moved to a bigger town.

little rock.

i’ve always heard people talk about their first memories as a child. i’ve tried so hard over the years to try to figure out my very first memory. and so far, it’s of my papaw. ( for those who are not southerners- my grandpa )

i had to be about 2 at the time and he had come to visit us in little rock from that small town and i remember riding in his chevy blazer. the next memory i have of him is at his wake. i remember my mother screaming and crying because she didn’t want to see him laying in his casket. i was 3 at the time and i remember holding a relative’s hand at the back of the funeral home.

i guess i should have a better sense of my childhood. but i don’t. the ages that things happened are all kind of fuzzy to me.

i remember being a little different than most boys. i still played with trucks and things like that but i also did strange things that most boys probably didn’t do.

when the door was shut, i would take a t-shirt and put the neck of the shirt on the top of my head. i was trying to make it look like long hair. after i would do that i would run around my room.

strange. i know.

i had a fairly normal childhood. my parents both worked hard and took care of me and my brother. they fought sometimes. my dad had (has) a temper and my mother can be hard to deal with sometimes. so now i understand why they fought ( fight ). but still, my parents did everything they could to make sure my brother and i had a normal childhood.

which is kind of confusing to what would would come of me when i grew up and moved to new york city…..

attempt 1

Tue, 11 Mar 2008 21:52:00 -0400

i think i want to write a book.

a memoir.

yes, i’m only 25 but i feel that i have a story to tell. the question is how do i tell it? how do i make what i am trying to say make any sense at all.

i think about it a lot. so i thought this would be a good way to get my thoughts together. sort through things. discover things. you know.. figure things out.

and so it begins….