I Just Realized

I have two amazing friends who I promised to mention in my blog, and I haven't.

Becky is an amazing person. I am so, so lucky to know her and have this friendship with her. I hope it'll last a good long time. I would say more, but I think she has a letter that mostly covers how I feel.

Sierra: I love you like crazy, I miss you like crazy, and I can't wait for you to get home and tell me all about your crazy English hijinks! I also have a shitload to tell you...but again, all shall be said when you get your booty home!

No Words

Saw it again. There are no words for how it makes me feel. If I was a better writer, I could find these elusive words. But I can't.

It's part of who I am. It has made me a different person. And it is where I belong. I have a whole life ahead of me, but I won't belong anywhere in the same way I belong with RENT.

No words. No. Fucking. Words.

Bleh

Went camping. Very, very tired. Itchy from bug bites. Sunburnt. Broke the washer. Going crazy about RENT and Anthony. Bought the Rocky Horror Picture Show soundtrack. Tiiiiiiiiiired.

All I Can Think Of To Say

THANK YOU JONATHAN LARSON.

I'll Cover You

There is a line in the song "I'll Cover You": Collins and Angel, as they lead up to the final refrain, say, "I've longed to discover something as true as this is." Musically, it's a beautiful line, with the music conveying a sense of complete happiness and trust from the singers. Literally, it's sweet and loving, perhaps the tiniest bit sappy but much less so than other words. For me, though, this line comes back time and again as a moment that expresses absolutely what I feel about RENT. I have longed, for as long as I can remember, to discover something as true as the feelings and emotions and experiences that RENT gives me. I've longed to discover something as true as this is, and though I may forget sometimes how deeply it has affected me, I know that nothing else will ever change me in that same way. Nothing else will ever be true in the way that RENT is, in the way it has been and in the way it will be for years and years to come.

And one of the most inspiring and magnetic parts of the RENT experience is the actors.

I've seen quite a few RENT casts: tour ones, Broadway ones, original members, celebrities, old favorites, newbies, the works. I have a favorite Maureen (Nicolette Hart), a favorite Mimi (Karmine Alers), even a favorite Squeegee Man (Telly Leung). I can name or recognize the names of most RENT actors, be they past, present, or tour. I've only seen the show nine times so far, but I'm a virtual connoisseur of RENT performers. And yet I will never find a Collins and an Angel who make the same magic and give me the same sense of pure, sweet happiness and joy that Jesse L. Martin and Wilson Jermaine Heredia do.

The Original Broadway Cast (OBC) truly is the only one for me. I've seen all the bootlegs there are to be found of them, learned their bios, read their interviews, done everything but stalk them (okay, I've stalked a little, but it was good stalking). I've seen Gwen Stewart (Soloist #1, Mrs. Jefferson, and Others), Rodney Hicks (OBC Paul and Others, but I saw him as Benny), Anthony Rapp as Mark, Adam Pascal as Roger...they're all incredible. I love and appreciate many other RENT actors past and present, but the OBC are forever at the top of my ladder. I feel (as I'm sure many RENTheads do) that I know them, and that, like old friends, they'll be there for me whenever I need them, and they'll forgive me when I don't pay attention to them for a little while. I feel connected to them. I love them. And I know that sounds weird, but it's true. In whatever twisted way my little RENThead mind can love people I don't know (or barely know) but who have changed my life completely, I love them.

Jesse and Wilson are OBC members. Wilson is a Dominican guy from Brooklyn who worked as a dispatcher before RENT and threw on Angel's platform heels without a second thought. Jesse is a black, Southern-bred, Buffalo-raised guy who almost didn't do RENT. They're perfect. They are Angel and Collins. There's no pretense about that. They just became those characters so perfectly that to me, every other actor (even Justin Johnston and Michael McElroy, my favorite Angel/Collins duo that I have seen) can't compare; they just seem a little bit off, like impersonators or mimics. The real thing has been there and gone.

I watch the OBC opening night bootleg, and I see Jesse and Wilson perform I'll Cover You. It's unbelievable, how complete they are. Even I, who can never stop thinking about the actors for a second, get lost in the moment as Angel and Collins fall in love before my eyes. From "I've been hearing violins all night" to "No, you'll be my queen and I'll be your moat", the lines just FIT. Other people sometimes make them sound hokey or uncomfortable, but Jesse and Wilson just look so natural and happy that I can't doubt them for a second. God, they're incredible. And they bring the song, with all its love and emotion, to life. Jonathan's brilliance, sweetness, and utter belief in the power of love shine here, in this pure, uncomplicated love song. There's no hemming and hawing and hesitance here like with Roger and Mimi's "I Should Tell You." There's no angry dueling and raunchy teasing like Maureen and Joanne's "Take Me Or Leave Me." There's just happiness and love and trust and acceptance. I can't even find the right words to describe how this song makes me feel. It's a blank for me.

Jesse and Wilson are also completely comfortable with each other, which is very, very important for Collins and Angel. I've seen Angels and Collinses who seem afraid or reluctant to touch each other, and it just wrecks the song. They also kiss for about half a second, which sucks. Wilson and Jesse kissed worth half a damn, and that sets them up on a whole new level right there. They weren't nervous or afraid or embarrassed. Wilson touches Jesse's chest and face, Jesse puts his fingers at the corners of Wilson's lips (best gesture EVER right there, by the way), and they hold hands like it's the best thing in the world. Jesse just wraps his arms around Wilson's waist and smiles his big, open, heart-melting smile. And at that moment, when Jesse is hugging Wilson from behind and they're swaying to the music and singing, you can see it. In the way Jesse leans his face against Wilson and closes his eyes, in the barely repressed grin on Wilson's face, and on the way their hands link in the front...it's there. When Wilson strokes Jesse's face and cups his hand around his neck when they kiss, and after a second their arms just go up and around each other, there's something real there. Not just two guys dancing around beaming and singing at each other. Two real people, sharing a single space in time where everything fits perfectly.

Make no mistake: I'm not one of those people who are like "OMG THEY R SO GAY THEYRE IN LUUUUUV." I'm one of the "please shoot and kill people like that and then bury their bodies under the foundations of the Nederlander" RENTheads. Jesse and Wilson are both straight. I know this, and I happily accept it. But here's where loads of people will call me a gullible romanticist. See, if you read the RENT Bible (and partially memorize it *cough*), you hear a lot about how close this cast was. The OBC, I mean. When Jonathan Larson died, they cemented close to each other, and when RENT became a huge hit, they were a real family. The cynic in me says that at least some of it has to be a schtick or something, because that kind of stuff is great for PR. But the rest of me believes it. For a few reasons.

For one thing, none of these people seem like PR whores. Not only that, but they don't and didn't need to be. RENT was already a smash, they didn't need to hype anymore. And I can see it happening too: in the way they were onstage (THANK GOD FOR BOOTLEGS), in Anthony Rapp's book, in the pictures (not the staged ones, but yeah, even those a bit), and just from what I know of them. It was a crazy, insane ride, and they were either flying solo or all together for it. Wilson said, "I felt for once like I was part of the club." Fredi Walker (original Joanne, and one of the performers that I identify with and love in a different way than the others) said, "There will never be a cast of RENT like this one. Instead of breaking apart because of the success, we've come closer together." Adam Pascal said, "The connection we have offstage transfers. People ask if we love each other as much as we look like we do, and we do." I just see it, and I believe it. Maybe I'm stupid, maybe I'm naive, but I believe it. And somehow it gives me comfort.

Wilson and Jesse were part of that family, and when they performed those parts, there was real love there. No, not romantic love, but feelings between two human beings. They loved each other like they loved the rest of those thirteen people they were onstage with every night. And it shows. It shows.

Sometimes I get so sad about RENT it physically hurts. I'm sad it's been so long since the OBC, sad it's closed, sad about other things, sad sad sad sad sad. But it happened. It happened, and it existed, and those magical times of the OBC, they're not gone. They're past, and the world they existed in is past, but they were and are real. I have that. And as sad as I'll ever get, and as happy as I'll ever get, the love will always be there. Jesse and Wilson will always be there, those two men who created something I've never seen or felt before and set it free. I love them, and I love RENT, and I thank Jonathan Larson that I have them in my life.

RENThead OUT. For now, at least.

My Mind, She Is Blown

First, I saw RENT tonight. I have blathered so much about it already that I have no more words. Let's say this: I had an amazing time, and realized that no matter how I change and how I grow, my heart will always settle with RENT. It's part of me now. I thought I'd left that frantic, crazy fangirl behind me and was more blase, chill RENThead...but I was wrong. I am a RENThead through thick and thin, as a stalker and as a singer, as a fangirl and as a person. The show, the history, the actors...that's just all there is for me. I love it. C'est la vie.

Then when I got home, Becky wrote an amazing blog post that sort of made me cry and is the kind of thing that everyone should have done for them at least once in life. I will treasure it--and my friendship with her--for a very, very long time. College is dumb. It takes all the awesome people away!

Wow. I'm a crazy, crazy lady.

YUSS.

Rather Soap Opera-y Play, But Whatever

Lights up. Mark, a young man wearing pajama pants and a t-shirt, is standing at a kitchen table. He is shuffling cards. He looks unhappy.

Enter Beth, his girlfriend, wearing slippers and a bathrobe over pajamas. She walks up and hugs him from behind. He jumps and spins around, forcing her to let go. The cards fall onto the table.

Mark:

Jesus Christ!

Beth:

Sorry!

They face each other for a moment: Beth smiling playfully, Mark unhappy. He turns back to the table and begins picking up the cards. She advances.

Beth:

Okay, okay, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. (no response) Don’t get all hot and bothered about it…(she reaches to hug him again, but he grabs her wrists to stop her. After a brief moment of hesitation, he lets go and allows her to embrace him.)

Mark:

I’m not hot and bothered. You just sort of snuck up on me, that’s all.

Beth:

It’s easy to get sort of jittery when you’re up at two in the morning.

Mark:

It’s this house. Too many bad memories. I can’t sleep.

Beth:

Me neither. (Mark turns and frowns, concerned. He takes hold of her shoulders.)

Mark:

You can’t sleep? Are you feeling sick again? Did you throw up? (Beth smiles and hugs him again.)

Beth:

No, I feel fine. I woke up after you left. I can’t sleep without someone kicking and shoving and snoring next to me all night.

Mark:

Oh. Sorry.

Beth:

No worries. I’ll forgive you, eventually. (She tries to kiss him, but he turns his face away. Freeing himself from the embrace, Mark walks around the table and sits down. He begins to gather up the cards. Beth is still for a moment, then silently sits in the chair beside him. He finishes gathering the cards, shuffles once, and looks at Beth.)

Mark:

Wanna play?

Beth:

Well, that depends. What’d you have in mind? Seven card stud? Five card draw? Texas hold-em?

Mark:

Go fish.

Beth:

Ah, just like the cowboys used to play in the saloons out west. (Mark doesn’t react.) Sure, why not. (Mark shuffles. Beth gets up and walks behind him, resting her arms on his shoulders. He ignores her and continues to shuffle.) You gonna tell me what’s up, or do I have to guess until I hit the bulls-eye?

Mark:

Nothing’s up, Beth.

Beth:

What was the point of coming all the way down here if you weren’t going to talk to anyone? I swear, your mom is this close to spiking your coffee with Jack Daniels or something. At least then you might yell drunkenly at her instead of giving her the silent treatment.

Mark:

I talk to you.

Beth:

I don’t count. I’m not family.

Mark:

What’s so special about family?

Beth:

Do you know what Paul asked me last night? He wanted to know if you were high. You’re acting so weird your own brother thinks you’re under the influence of something illegal.

Mark:

(beginning to deal) I just don’t feel like getting into the whole how’ve-you-been, what’s-the-buzz, look-at-the-happy-family-Christmas-card holiday kind of thing. I’m not in the mood.

Beth:

Christmas card? You’re Jewish.

Mark:

Pick up your cards. You go first.

Beth:

Seriously, Mark, can’t you tell me—

Mark:

It’s your turn. (Beth hesitates, then sighs and sits back down in her chair. She picks up her cards and fans them, then considers them.)

Beth:

Got any threes?

Mark:

Go fish.

Beth:

You never have threes.

Mark:

Luck of the draw, I guess.

Beth:

Some luck.

They play a few turns: tens, sixes, queens. When it’s Mark’s turn again, he doesn’t move. He is thinking.

Beth:

Hey? Honey? Your move?

Mark:

I was thinking…do we really need to bother moving everything else in? I mean, I do have a lot of shit, and your place isn’t huge or anything. I don’t want to crowd all your stuff.

Beth:

It’s our stuff, babe. Seriously. I keep telling you not to sweat it. Believe me, I went through the whole codependency paranoia garbage too. It’ll pass.

Mark:

But—I mean—won’t Rory want more space? I don’t want him pissing all over my couch because he’s…um…

Beth:

Pissed off?

Mark:

He’s already gonna be annoyed with us for ditching him for a week. That kennel was nasty as hell.

Beth:

You know, much as I love our little hell-dog, I’m not going to force any of my friends to take care of a bitchy old beagle with bad bladder control. Not for a whole week, anyway. I mean, these are people I would prefer to remain friends with.

Mark:

Yeah. I guess so. Makes sense. (he stares down at the table, thinking. Beth is obviously troubled by his silence.)

Beth:

Mark? Is that what’s wrong?

Mark:

Huh?

Beth:

Is it…moving in? Are you upset about it? Too big a change, too fast?

Mark:

Beth, that’s not the problem.

Beth:

Because it’s totally okay if you want to slow down the process a bit. You know, sleep at Jonathan’s a couple nights a week or something. I wouldn’t mind.

Mark:

(laughing without humor)

Trust me, sleeping at Jonathan’s would not solve anything here.

Beth:

So you admit there’s a problem and it needs to be solved.

Mark:

Jesus Christ, what am I supposed to say? I’m not a goddamn course model in shrink school, okay? You can’t wrap me up in a tidy little pile of depression or denial or whatever you people have in there.

Beth:

I wasn’t trying to do that.

Mark:

Just stop trying to analyze me.

Beth:

If you stop yelling and try to not to wake the whole house up, it’s a deal.

Mark looks like he’s about to get mad again; Beth is sitting silently, looking at her cards. After a pause, Mark picks up his cards.

Mark:

Any jacks?

Beth:

Go fish.

Mark picks up a card and looks to Beth. She’s shuffling her cards and doesn’t go. He sighs and reaches out to put one hand over hers.

Mark:

Sorry. I’m sorry I’m such a spaz. Peace?

Beth:

Mark—

Mark:

Wait. Peace?

Beth:

(smiling a little)

Peace. (looking at her cards) Got any sevens?

Mark:

I do, actually. (hands her cards, then plays a turn; Beth is distracted and does not take her turn) Okay, seriously, I said sorry. I thought you peaced.

Beth:

I did peace. It’s not that.

Mark:

So what’s wrong? (realizes what’s going on) Hey, role reversal! That’s a shrink thing, right?

Beth:

Um, sorta. I’m proud of you. (still thinking) Mark, I want to ask you about something.

Mark:

Yeah?

Beth:

What do you think is scarier: commitment or uncertainty?

Mark:

I don’t…Beth, what are you talking about?

Beth:

With uncertainty, you don’t know what you can and can’t do, or can and can’t say. Even to someone you love. Because if there’s no real commitment, there’s nothing to stop them from running for the hills if they don’t hear something they like. You know? You don’t know if anything will be okay, there’s no guarantee that it will, or that they will. It’s sort of terrifying, actually.

Mark:

(clearly very affected by what she’s saying)

I think I know the feeling.

Beth:

But with commitment, you might be safe, but you’re sort of stuck. There’s a guarantee for both you and the other guy. They can’t run, but neither can you. And if it turns out to be something you don’t want…something that you can’t live with, or makes you into a person you don’t want to be, then you can’t run either. You’re just as committed as everyone else.

Mark:

(getting up)

Like even when you think you might want commitment, if you were thinking it might make everything better…it turns out you were wrong. You were kidding yourself.

Beth:

(getting a little excited)

Exactly.

Mark:

And even if what’s wrong with the whole thing is beyond your control, and it’s something you hate and want to just go away…when you’re committed, there’s no excuse. For running away, I mean.

Beth:

But what if the problem…what if it’s not always a bad thing? What if it seems scary at first, and huge, and completely inescapable, but it turns out to be…the best thing that ever happened to you? To us?

Mark:

(not looking at her, upset, didn’t catch the last two words)

That doesn’t happen. These kinds of problems never get better. They never go away. They’re just there, and you can’t change yourself. You can’t get rid of it.

Beth:

(confused, standing)

It? What’s “it”? What are you talking about?

Mark:

(turning to look at her)

Wait, what are you talking about? What’s this commitment-uncertainty stuff?

Beth:

(coming towards him)

This stuff is about us. It’s about something amazing that could happen…something that seems really big and bad and…uncertain. Something that makes you uncertain and committed at the same time.

Mark:

You’re freaking me out, okay? Just letting you know.

Beth:

You don’t need to be freaked out. (goes up to him, takes his hands) I promise. Actually, it freaked me out at first, but then I started thinking. And I realized how wonderful it is. Mark, it’s beautiful.

Mark:

Beautiful? What’s—what’s beautiful?

Beth:

(putting her arms around him, getting a little jokey)

C’mon, babe. You can’t be this thick. I mean, I’ve known for at least a couple weeks, and I’m not even the one living with me.

Mark:

(suddenly very, very wary, almost shocked)

Wait—are you talking about—are you saying what I think you are? (Beth nods) And you’re okay with it? Now that you know, after all this time?

Beth:

I wasn’t in the beginning. But like I said, I started thinking. And I saw that it could be the best thing in the world. It could be perfect for us.

Mark:

(aghast)

Perfect for us? Perfect? Are you insane? What’s wrong with you? (he pulls away and runs to the other side of the table: Beth is confused) This isn’t perfect. This is sick and wrong and…and…I can’t believe I did this to you. And I really, really can’t believe you’re not trying to kill me right now.

Beth:

Mark, what the hell are you talking about? I don’t understand.

Mark:

This isn’t beautiful, Beth, it’s not wonderful. It’s unnatural. I’m disgusting. I thought I could make it all better, so I didn’t let you go when I had the chance and now you’re stuck and you’re committed and I love you so much. I never wanted to do this to you, okay? I want you to know that. If I could change one thing about this, I would make it so you didn’t have to be a part of it. I used you, and I’m sorry, and if I’d known that you knew I would have said sorry a long time ago. God, I’m such a fuck-up, I’m so sorry. Beth, I’m sorry.

Beth:

(completely overwhelmed, holding onto a chair)

You’re not making any sense. I can’t understand you.

Mark:

I’m not okay with it, Beth. I know you might think it’s all right, for other people, but I’m not okay with it. It’s wrong, it’s not just…it’s wrong. I hate it.

Beth:

But I thought…I thought you would be happy. I thought you would want this.

Mark:

You thought I would want what? For you to be all right with all of this? Because I—oh god, you have no idea how much I’ve wanted that. I’m a selfish son of a bitch, I know. I love you, and I’ve never met anyone else that I—that I wanted to tell. I’ve never wanted anyone to tell me it was all okay as much as I wanted you to tell me that. But I can’t ask it of you. Don’t you get it? I can’t ask you to do that for me.

Beth:

You—wanted to tell me—what?

Mark:

But you know now. Christ, I can’t even imagine how you found out. Did you talk to Jonathan, did he tell you? Did Paul tell you about when I—(decides not to continue) or did you just guess? Could you tell when you met me?

Beth:

(suddenly understanding, completely overwhelmed)

Oh my god.

Mark:

I know. I know, oh god, Beth, I’m so sorry.

Beth:

Jonathan…and you…and…oh my god, oh Jesus Christ, this is not happening. This is—-this is—-such bull.

Mark:

(realizing something is wrong)

Beth? I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have just exploded like that. But this month or two, it’s just been…and then coming here, being with my family, I couldn’t handle it, I just shut down. I can’t believe that you knew, all this time. I had no idea.

Beth:

Neither did I.

Mark:

What?

Beth:

I can’t believe it. I cannot believe that this is my life. I thought I knew every possible way the world could blow up in my face, but screw that. I don’t know shit.

Mark:

What are you talking about?

Beth:

You know, I actually have no idea what I’m talking about. I’m having trouble thinking clearly right now, because I’m nine weeks pregnant and my boyfriend is a faggot.

Long silence. Mark is unable to speak; he stands beside the table, watching Beth. Beth picks up her cards, fans them out, and examines them. Then she picks up Mark’s cards and looks at them. She takes two out and holds them up.

Beth:

Thanks for the threes.

She walks past Mark without looking at him. He turns to watch her go, then sits down and brings all the cards together. He begins to shuffle. Lights down.