Do you ever wonder how people do it? How people get out of bed every morning, and go to work, and walk, and think, and digest food, and sometimes even raise children, for God’s sake? And you don’t even need to be talented to do it. You just need to be a human being. How do people do it?

And meanwhile, here I am, and my life isn’t all that bad but doesn’t feel all that terrific either, and I can’t seem to figure out why everyone seems to be so much more talented than I am. Sometimes I wonder why my parents made me skip seventh grade and why I became pre-med before quitting it to become a history major and why I eventually spent three years and $50,000 on law school. I can’t seem to figure out how to live life. And yet everyone else in the world seems to be making their way, step by step. Why did I do everything I did? Why did I waste my time?

I was riding on the train from Trenton back up to Newark, reading The Object of My Affection after having dozed off for a while, and it struck me that most people’s lives aren’t all that exciting and that everyone’s life is far from perfect. And nobody has to be perfect. If you’ve survived until the end of the day, you’ll wake up the next. People put one foot in front of the other, over and over and over again, day after day and year after year. People try to quit smoking or buy a house or be happy.

I’m reading this book and I’m thinking, what are these characters so upset about? Are they even upset, or are they just feeling kind of blah? None of their problems really seem to matter. They’re humorous and entertaining. It feels as normal as an Anne Tyler novel. And I think, if my life were a book, my problems would seem mundane and humorous and entertaining too. And really, what are my problems right now? I want to find a new apartment. I want to find a new career path. It’s the same things that everyone deals with, nothing special. And if it doesn’t take great brains to put one foot in front of the other, or to give birth, or even to become president, then why should it require an inexhaustible supply of talent in order to solve my current problems? It doesn’t take talent. All it takes is energy. One foot in front of the other.

Somehow it feels more complicated. It’s not a novel. It’s me. And I worry about consequences.

If I could dissociate myself from my life, watch myself on a video screen and control myself with a joystick, it would be so much easier to take actions. It would just be so much easier to do things.

Almost Famous

Tonight I went to the movies by myself. I saw Almost Famous, which won the Oscar last night for Best Original Screenplay. I saw it at the AMC 24, just off Times Square, right near the huge Loews multiplex, right near Madame Tussaud’s, down the street from The Lion King, across from the American Airlines Theater and the Ford Center for the Performing Arts. There’s always something exciting about being in the Times Square area, breeding ground of American (and world) popular culture. I feel like I’m in the center of Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory, while all the teenagers out in Peoria stuff their faces, hoping desperately to find a golden ticket. Before the movie began, some soundtrack chosen by a corporate behemoth spewed out the latest pop tunes performed by people I’ll hear about next week.

There’s something satisfyingly cozy about going to see a good movie by yourself, especially on a weeknight. Nobody gives you weird looks, nobody cares, and you’re not the only person there alone. You can just sit there in the dark, forget about your daily life, and absorb yourself in the story on the screen.

Ahhh.

Tomorrow I have to go to Trenton to review a casefile for a memo I have to write, so I won’t be blogging until later in the afternoon… but I’ll get to ride for free on the comfortable New Jersey Transit commuter train, on which I’ll either sleep or read The Object of My Affection. I’m really enjoying it.

My Ideal Day

I wrote this in June 1999 in response to an exercise in Barbara Sher‘s book Wishcraft. You’re supposed to write about your ideal day, without regard to practicality; this is supposed to get you in touch with your dreams. If you’re trying to figure out what you want to do in life, I can’t recommend Barbara Sher’s books highly enough. Her ideas are very practical. She’s fantastic.

Lots of what I wrote below is kind of outdated, but it’s a window into where I stood, and what my goals were, almost two years ago. If I did this exercise today, it might be very different. Anyway, without further fanfare… My Ideal Day.

I wake up around 8:00 or 8:30 in the morning, in my king or queen-size bed, which I of course share with my boyfriend. I have enough time to get ready. When I feel like it – usually by 9:30 or 10 – I walk into work. I’m in charge, so nobody is there to tell me I’m late. There are several people who work there – happy, dedicated people, a team – they are a pretty unique group, too, I love ’em all, my boyfriend and I both do – and they are happy to see me. There are lots of windows and plants, too, here in this building in the city. Plenty of sunlight.

I have my own office, spacious, with my own computer, my own nice things on the walls, plus a window and a plant would be nice. I can have privacy but I’m accessible to everyone else, too.

I check my e-mail. Some are fan letters from people who love the latest book I’ve written on gay life – they admire me, and they are so thankful to me for helping them change their lives and feel good about being gay. I thank them – answering as many as possible, because people get a kick out of getting a personal response from someone whom they’re a fan of, and I want them to get that kick.

I have to write my column for The Advocate, which I’ve been working on. Besides that, one of my helpers comes in and tells me that some reporter wants a quote about the latest gay issue, a response to something someone has said, perhaps. I call the person, or take the call, and chat for a while.

I have to help design a website for our organization, perhaps containing links to various resources or publications.

During the day I also have meetings with the people I work with – we have something we’re working on together, towards our goal of equality and acceptance for gays. I also have to respond to invitations for a benefit, perhaps. And someone wants me to give a speech on the anniversary of Matt Shepard’s death, or something. And Ellen DeGeneres is in town – she’d like to meet with me too.

Lunch is with Ellen; or perhaps with my co-workers. Or I meet my boyfriend. At any rate, we eat in the park, or at a nice deli, or in the workplace. It’s a leisurely lunch.

In the afternoon, I mostly write, work on my book, or meet with other activists, Congressmen, etc. If I have no meetings, I can of course do my writing at home, where there is a porch with plants and trees around – a screened porch – or my own special writing room. Again with access to the Internet, through a cable modem of course.

My boyfriend comes home in the early evening. Or perhaps he works at home. At any rate, we can relax together, whatever. For dinner, we go out as usual, meeting our group of friends and whomever they or we have brought along. Because there are always new and interesting people to meet. Or perhaps we see a movie. It doesn’t really matter – we do whatever we want in the evenings.

Sometimes I get to travel to different cities, where I give speeches, or perhaps I’m even interviewed on TV about my latest book. It could be fiction or nonfiction. LA, NY, the Midwest, wherever. I get to see the nation, perhaps even the world, but more importantly the US.