In case you were one of the 3,493 people who wished me happy birthday on Facebook, via email, or over the phone, I did, in fact, have my birthday this week.  On Thursday.

It started off with the realization that on my next birthday, my IQ, Waist Size, and Age will all be the same number.

*rim shot*

But seriously, this year’s birthday was not so much fun, I have to say.  I went to work for the first half of the day.  I had originally planned to take the whole day off and have some fun.  But mandatory work meetings cropped up, so I rolled into the office and did my due diligence.  (I’m such a dedicated employee…)

At lunch time, I took off for the day, and went to putter around in my garden for a little while.  I did a tiny little bit of weeding, and watered the place, then I harvested another plastic grocery bag full of lettuce.  I was bringing the salad to a little dinner gathering with some friends on Friday, and I wasn’t going to have time to harvest it then, so I had to get it the day before.  Then I took a nap, woke up, took Luke for his walk, and then got ready for my big birthday evening.

A month ago, I had purchased tickets for the first night of the new stage version of Disney’s Aladdin.  They’re doing an out-of-town tryout to see if it’s something they’d like to workshop for Broadway.  Plus, I had a friend from college who had come out to Seattle to be in the show, so I wanted to go and support her.  I was going with another friend of mine who used to be my next-door neighbor.  He was going to get out of work at 6:30, then we were going to drive into the city to get dinner and see the show.

Well, his assistant over-booked him with clients, so he wasn’t able to get to my place to pick me up until about 7:15.  At that point, we had to rush to get into the city, park, and pick up the tickets before the 8PM curtain.  So, we ended up not getting any dinner.

I realize I may hurt some feelings with what I’m about to write next, but the show was really bad.  Really bad.  First the good, though.  The cast had some of the best voices I’ve heard on stage in a long time.  Everyone (with one major exception) sang quite well.  The guy who played the genie was amazing.  He saved the show.  The production values and lighting were spectacular.  The big problem was the script.  Apparently, they were still doing rewrites up until the day of the show.  And they still REALLY don’t have it. 

I understand that when you adapt a movie to the stage, you have to make some changes.  I totally get it, and I don’t begrudge them the changes.  However, they changed the basic personalities of the major characters.  Instead of being a smart-alec street rat who does, in fact, break the law on purpose, they turned the new Aladdin into this after-school special who just wants to do good because he promised his mom  he would before she died.  (I mean, really.)  Jafar became this poncey, effeminate joker who didn’t provide any menace at all.  (There was no real, scary bad guy).  Jasmine was a spoiled brat with no real, redeeming qualities. And, most painfully, instead of being palled up with a monkey, Aladdin was a member of a band of street musicians, who served as a sort of Greek chorus.  That, in and of itself, isn’t a bad thing, necessarily, but the other three members of the “band” completely pulled you out of the story.  The writers went the cheap direction, bringing in all sorts of modern references when the chorus broke the 4th wall.  An typical example:

Band Mate #1: So, Aladdin was in trouble.  Meanwhile, back at the ranch…
Band Mate #2: What are you talking about?  There’s no ranch here?
Band Mate #3: I’ve got some Hidden Valley (pulls out a bottle of Hidden Valley Ranch).

What made Aladdin the movie so effective was that it was immersive.  The characters grew and changed. Even though the actual scenario was fantastic, the character’s reactions to it were based in reality and grounded thoroughly.  The soul of the film was completely massacred by the script for the stage version.  And the acting style was SO OVER THE TOP.  With the exception of the genie, there was no subtlety at all.  It was like watching a theme-park show version of Aladdin.  And I didn’t for one moment believe the relationship between Jasmine and Aladdin.  Watching them “fall in love” was like watching a 14-year-old gay boy dancing with a girl for the first time at a church dance.  (And trust me, I know what that looks like.)

I would love to see Aladdin make it to Broadway, but NOT this version of Aladdin.  It was painful.  Apologies to my friend who was in the show.  I wish I could be more complementary about the whole thing.  I will say that the cast was quite good (except for Jasmine) and, if the script was re-written, I really think the show could do well.

In any case, we finished the show, and then went to look for a place to eat, and everything was closed.  Even Denny’s.  AND IHOP.  I thought those restaurants never closed.  So, my big birthday dinner was eaten in truck in the parking lot of Wendy’s.  And I’m thankful to my friend who took me there, but it was just a little disappointing.

The biggest problem was that, for the first time in a long, long time, I really fell into a birthday pity party.  I’ve been actively trying not to evaluate my life too much lately.  I’m trying to get out of my head and just enjoy my life as it is.  And I’ve been relatively successful.  It’s the reason why the number of blog posts I write has dwindled so significantly.  Without complaining about my loneliness or lack of a partner, I don’t have a lot to talk about.  But after the show, I got into one of those ever-dangerous contemplative mood pockets. 

This is the first big professional show that I’ve seen since I retired from performing.  It was also the first time that the desire to quit my job and go back to performing hit me so hard.  It was a real, physical pain in my chest.  I spent half of the intermission nearly hyperventilating when I thought that I would have to back to work and sit in that little office in front of a computer all day long, every day for the rest of my life.  I wanted nothing more than to go back to my hotel room, stay up until 2AM, sleep in until 10 or 11, go to the gym, then go back to the theater at 5:00 for another show and repeat it for the next two months before moving somewhere else and starting the whole process over again. 

Then, after I got home, I fell into the “I’m So Lonely” hole of which I seem to be constantly skirting the edges.  My mind spiraled into this black hole of thought that usually goes something like this:

* I’m so lonely.  I need to find someone to share my life with
* I don’t know how to even go about finding someone.  It’s a skill I never learned
* Even if I did know, it wouldn’t matter, because I am so fat and ugly
* I’m going to be fat and ugly forever, which means I’ll never find anyone
* And because I’ll never find anyone, I’ll never learn how to find someone
* Etc., etc., etc.

Look: I’m not saying its logical.  Or even correct.  And I’m certainly not saying it’s a healthy train of thought.  But it is the train of though to which I seem to have purchased a season pass.  It was particularly bad that night, however, because I was realizing that, at the age of 33, there are so many things I have never experienced.  And, the older I get, the less and less likely it is that I will ever get a chance to experience them.  I was freaking out, because in a lot of ways, I’m still an emotional adolescent. 

And then, to wrap it all up, Luke the dog woke me up at 5AM on Friday morning to run outside, eat grass, and puke.  It was the perfect end to the perfect day, pretty much all the way around.

The crankiness of the day has mostly passed, and I used my wallowing as an opportunity to develop a bit of a game-plan for dealing with some of the unhappiness that engulfed me on Thursday.  I’m re-initiating my weight-loss/healthy eating/exercise regimen, since that’s one area that I actually can control.  And next year, I’m going to do a better job of planning my birthday.  Unless someone else wants to volunteer, in which case, just make sure I don’t get any alone time with my thoughts.

“Lefew I’m afraid I’ve been thinking.”
”A dangerous pasttime”
”I know.”