10:30 PM - Sat 9.17.16
Seeing Toronto Before I Die

Had a callback today for a commercial audition (And it would be extra-cool to book it, because it shoots in Toronto).

I was nervous going in, because I was more tired than I wanted to be (Saturday is usually the "tired-est" day of my week, since I have to get up at 6am for Weight Watchers), but it seemed to go well.

My scene partner - a seriously good-looking young guy (a somewhat scaled-down version of Chris Hemsworth) - certainly thought it had gone well for me, saying "Have fun in Toronto..." afterward.

(On my end, as I'd waited, I'd actually hoped I would go in with this guy, because he was the best-looking guy auditioning, and I thought our very different "looks" would really add something to the scene we were doing, with him as a heroic figure, and me as...a very non-heroic figure. I joked beforehand that they'd probably cast us soon as we walked into the room, without bothering to make us read, because we were so perfect for the roles - And I walked out feeling like it would be really fun if we actually did both book it. He seemed like a nice guy, and I really do think it was an inherently funny pairing)

Well it all started, maybe a week or so ago, when my friend Tim G. called, telling me a car guy he's worked with before was offering a deal to lease a new electric Fiat, for no money down, for $139 a month.

Over the following days, I nervously weighed the pros and cons, trying to come to some sort of rational decision (I won't bore you with all that).

But a huge factor in my decision was going to be whether I'd be able to charge the car from my parking space or not (There's an electrical outlet right next to my space) - I'm a lazy guy, and I like things easy. To me, there's a world of difference between having to figure out the logistics of charging my car from some remote location (And it takes hours), and at the end of the day, just parking my car, plugging it in, and going up to my apartment for the night.

After briefly considering just going for it, and not asking about "charging privileges" - and adopting the devil-may-care philosophy of "better to ask for forgiveness than permission" that has never been my M.O. - I decided I really should ask the apartment manager if there was a "policy" in place on this issue.

I stopped by her office yesterday or the day before, and didn't even get a whole sentence out - "I'm considering leasing an electric car, so I was wondering..." - before she said, "No".

(Clearly, it was not the first time someone had asked. And it wasn't even mean or curt-sounding - It was just like "I know what you're gonna ask, so I'll save us both some time...".)

So that's all but snuffed out my interest in the project.

I just wish the offer had involved a hybrid, and not a purely electric vehicle (that only gets 100 miles on a charge, which doesn't seem that great).

But c'est la vie...

Well, after a hiatus of a week or so, I'm back on drugs again.

After not being able to make my most recent appointment, and running out of drugs, I'd been having a hard time getting my psychiatrist to take action on faxing my Wellbutrin prescription to my pharmacy (the Rite-Aid on 3rd).

So in an effort to expedite things, Mike (my therapist) called the psychiatrist's office Tuesday, right after our session, to add a little "oomph" to the request (I then "followed up" a couple hours later, leaving a message).

And on Thursday morning (as I was visiting my first "shiva house", so I probably shouldn't even have had my phone on, let alone taken a call), I got a call from the office, saying the deed was done - a prescription good for 1 refill had been faxed to the pharmacy.

I was pleased the issue had gotten resolved - I wasn't 100% sure the drugs were doing anything, but I kind of thought they were, and didn't like the idea of returning to the previous "status quo" of hitting myself and trying not to cry in public - but I was way less pleased at the notion my therapist had needed to intercede on my behalf (Which, conveniently enough, will be the likely topic of our next therapy session).

In one instance, the relationship was...complicated, while in the other, basically "the wrong parent died" (At least that's my view "from the outside looking in").

I'm closer to one of the people than the other, but in both instances, the whole thing made me feel...weird.

At times like this, I tend to think that, since I'm not "family" or a close friend, it doesn't really matter if I do something or not, like send a card or go to a funeral or what-have-you. I'm not "important" to them, so I don't really have to "do anything" (When, of course I do, because I'm a person amongst other people, and there's something called "the social contract" to consider).

(In both instances, I did end up at least acknowledging the deaths and expressing my sympathies - I visited one person in her home while she was "sitting shiva" this past week, and had the opportunity to talk to the other person this morning.)

But stranger than me just being kind of an asshole about this stuff is just how "alien" it makes me feel.

Most people have parents, parents who raised them, who loved them (however imperfectly), who they have very strong, complicated feelings about. Parents they have a primal relationship with, who - in normal circumstances - they watch go from vital adults to infirm elderly people. Parents who at one point were their whole world, who they have to watch get old and die.

I've got none of that.

It's about as human an experience as it gets, and while it doesn't sound like much fun - watching your parents get old and sick and, eventually, dead - the fact I haven't experienced it and never will makes me feel...not quite human.

Maybe that's why I feel awkward about even acknowledging other people's loss, or like it doesn't really matter if I do - It feels "empty" to me to just say "I'm sorry for your loss" when I really have nothing but the vaguest, most intellectual understanding of what that loss means.

I've wrestled with feeling "isolated" all my life, and one of the disappointments I've experienced with age is that I somehow thought I'd feel less that way as I grew older, but it's actually getting worse and worse.

I feel it a lot on Shameless - Doing a scene in the Alibi with Mike, Steve, Bill, Shanola, and Izzie, the number one topic of conversation during breaks are spouses and children.

They all have both.

And I have neither.

Once again, I am somehow...not completely human. I failed to mate, I failed to procreate, and I have nothing to say, and nothing to share.

I often feel like my life basically "stopped" in my early 20s, and I've been "treading water" ever since.

Well, I have succeeded in depressing the fuck out of myself...

(And just a second ago, I thought I'd lost this entry, just before coming to the end - I felt the fury rising in me, while fighting the urge to blast myself in the face, trying trying trying to just sit here and not to lose my shit...and I held out long enough to realize I was just in the wrong tab. Anyway...)

One thing I think about, going back to "the death thing", is that people having to face up to their parent's mortality is probably part of the process of learning to face up to their own mortality.

And that's not gonna ever happen to me.

I sometimes worry that the only death I'm ever going to experience in a profound way...is my own

(That's a lousy thought to go to sleep with...but it's the thought I've got...)

Well, maybe I'll book this commercial thing, and get to go to Toronto this week.

That would be fun...

(Okay, now I can go to sleep if I wanna...!)

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