It wasn't like coming home. It was coming home.

This was my first showering experience in the new place. I would say it was a wash (pun intended). And I put some of the body wash into my hand. Now, as a sort of impulse, a reflex if you will (as I am a bar soap man), caused me to place this goo into my hair. As it felt like shampoo and I wasn't really paying that much attention. At least, I suppose, I have very little hair to speak of. Though that which I do have now smells strongly of Irish Spring body wash.

Saw Phil on the street. Pulled my mom's SUV over and honked at him. Told him to get in, we were going to breakfast. He said he'd just eatten, but got in anyway. We sat in the diner while the SUV was hit by another car, all of that. Phil didn't get any food, but watched us eat ours and had a nice little chat with Phil and my folks before they took off for the heartland.

What is that which you are rasing? Is that the bullshit flag? Why is it so red?

And I'm about out. And I'll be going. Into the unknown.

Yes, please, bring another bottle of wine.

Pardon my bitterness, but you can rub your generosity in my face all you want. I don't feel the need to bribe my friends with gifts.

I don't know if I'm understandably conflicted, but I am conflicted none the less.

I don't understand how it's possible for me to get this much sleep and still be tired.

Happy Birthday, S. Winks!

I had never even considered the option that it might be a joke. Or initiation. Or some other sort of good-hearted fun. I haven't been the 'new kid' since Rockford.

It's true. Sometimes you just want something covered in gravy.

I had a terrible theatre dream last night. In which the show I was calling was falling apart at the seams.

I watched Young Guns last night. A movie I remember enjoying a great deal as a child. Somethings, I guess, should stay that way.

It sounded like a train just rolled past my place. A huge train. Which is odd, as there aren't tracks that close.

I feel that in my time I have learned how to wear hats.

It was a woman who first suggested I part my hair in the center. What an odd thing to remember.

Had a fucking terrible dream, something in the vein of Twilight of the Golds in which I was leaving my family and an action movie where things were blowing up. I was attacked by a friend with a razor blade. It was rough.

There are times when there is so much unresolved things that there is no way to start resolving them.

Happy Birthday, KP Kickin' it Old Skool!

I do understand that bitching is just a huge part of the job. Usually at a bar. Which is why it's so hard to make money most of the time. Becuase you're spending it on drinks to bitch over.

The thing I find most interesting about this is that I keep waiting for someone to be shocked. Not necessarily angry or repulsed or disappointed, but honestly and truly surprised. Which no one seems to be. Because it doesn't seem out of the range of my actions. It seems like something I am likely to do. This is odd to me because I don't feel that way. I feel like I have, for myself, taken a rather large risk, I have ventured into the unknown. Because, you know, I'm not punk. At least I don't think so. But the overwhelming feedback is that I am. Of course. That people have been seeing things in me that I don't see in myself. That I am not who I think I am.

I know it might seem lame, but if I'm at a party and I'm not trying to get laid 2am is about the time I'm thinking about heading home.

Life seems to be either a matter of preping or doing.

Today is the first day of the rest of my life.

Set my alarm for four thirty. Did not turn it on. Kristin's flight just landed. My phone just woke me.

Hey [censored]-

Before you begin reading what I'm about to say, I want you to know that there's no anger in this, but I would like to open an honest and complete dialogue as this is an important issue for me on many levels.

Or was it that you weren't actually paying for the work that I did, persay, but for who I am? The Josh Weckesser brand, if you will. The status that Josh Weckesser brings to a project. The "experience" part. If that is the case, I feel like you received it. My name was on the postcards (et all) all of the pre-thought that went into the show happened. The discount I get a C-Spot was enacted. All of the things from my home that I brought to the show are still there (color, templates, power cords, etc). I was able to engage in the full-range of preparatory work (plots, notes, etc) and install that work. Had we been working in a larger venue (The Goodman, etc) that would have been around the time that I could have handed the show off to an assistant to have them finish. In addition to that, at this point you are obtaining that for free. I am personally not asking for anything.

Or is it that you would rather my personality and disposition be around during tech? And that extra excitement (or whatever) that I provide was absent because I myself was absent. This is what you are referring to as "[censored]'s enthusiasm." The family structure that develops around tech, the "we're all in this together" mentality. And since I was not there, and was not in it, could not be a part of. And this element had value to you.

Or what you're telling me is that you're unhappy with the product? You feel that what [censored] produced in tech (from my notes, plot, etc) was inferior to what I would have been able to produce and there for has less value? And why pay full price for something you're unhappy with if you can avoid it? What I would comment about this is what when you purchase a car and then wreck it you're still obliged to make payments, as per the contract.

That being said, I'm sure a clear case could be made that I am the one in violation of contact, not you. However I do feel very strongly that I have and continue to make a good-faith effort.

I do know that money is tough to talk about, but I feel like this could have been approached a week ago. Two weeks ago. You could have mentioned it to [censored] during tech. The timing of this makes me nervous. My big concern is that you are over budget on this show, and audiences aren't what you'd want them to be and now, in retrospect, you're looking to cut wherever you can. And this is a great opportunity to lever my personal issues (which, is true, should not effect my work) into a finical gain or, at least, a less finical determent to the company. If this is the case, this is were I would be somewhat upset. On a professional level. If we're talking about hiring professional designers (which I am, and [censored] is) we're talking about people that do this for a living. This is all I do. I don't have a day job that theatre is a side project for me. Considering prep time as well as the tech time commitment and the fact that it means I can't tech another show during that time I could, at best, take three shows like this a month. Which would be $1200 a month, which would turn into $14,400 gross annually and that is with no time off. I can tell you right now, and I'm sure you know, that's not enough money for me to live. So I was already taking this job at less than I should have because I was excited about it, because I wanted to work with [censored], because I felt this show was worth doing.

All of that being said, I would like to fully engage in this dialogue, whatever the outcome, as this is a central issue to my life and work as well as a new experience for me in regard to personal crisis. I would like to fully understand where you are coming from as well. And honestly, if you feel like you have sacrificed some actual value and are not making this decision based solely on a bottom line then I support it. I'm in favor of it. If you think the work at the end of the day was worth $300 then please, write [censored] a check for $300. I told her that she would receive $400 and I will cover the rest.

Smiling, Josh

PS: Sorry about the long email. But I doubt I could have organized my thoughts as clearly over the phone.

I do remember NIU.

I did a show with Dan Bakken a year or two ago and at the post-show cast party Dan asked me what I missed the most about DeKalb. And I said to him, "Feeling that I had a sense of purpose, that I was working towards something." Which is true. I've always believed in the art, in the power of theatre and all of that jazz.

What I've been struggling to believe in is the buoyancy of the art. Of my art. Of the ability of the art that I make to keep me afloat. The business part of show business. Which, honestly, I don't know why I'm doubting. I haven't have a 'real' job since I moved to DeKalb and quit my job at Taco Bell. The moment I moved out of the dorms I started paying my rent on work I was doing in the theatre (granted I had three positions at the time). My roommates had their fucking parents paying their rent. "No way, if I'm going to make a living at this it's going to start now." And it did.

Now I'm tired, and I keep fucking things up. I feel that I'm better than this, and better than this, and better than this. And the more I keep saying that the more I have to think, "You're always making excuses for yourself. You're never actually just doing it right." I keep saying next time. But this is a life pattern for me. I remember going into Lucrecia's office and freaking out because I was too busy. And she said, "This happens once every semester." Now it seems to be happening every couple of years. I suppose that's a sign of some progress.

And I feel better today. Invigorated. For a couple of days I didn't know what more I could do. I felt impotent and incompetent. I didn't know what the next step is. But after some of the things that's happened in the last few days I've come to a renewed sense of myself. Of self-reliance, of getting away from all other people in a professional sense. Of sinking or swimming on my own. I feel like I need to fully do my own work, because I'm able to take care of my own work.

Got my iPod back. Fuck yes.

Strange, I don't remember asking for my life to be shit. Still I remember volenteering for all of this.

Strange, I don't remember peeing on myself.

It seems to have become autum over night.