A few weeks ago, I posted a tweet I liked on my theater's Facebook page (www.Facebook.com/EpicTheatreCo). It was about how certain people were going to be sad when the pandemic was over because they're really good at following the rules. Obviously, I didn't expect everybody to find that funny, but the tweet was verbalizing something I think we all kind of know, but feel too worried to say-- Some of us have enjoyed certain parts of having everything shut down. For me, it's not about following the rules. It's the fact that I suffer from crippling FOMO on a daily basis, and it's impossible to feel like you're missing out when there isn't anything to miss out on. Conversely, I have one of those highly enjoyable personalities where I don't actually want to do things, but I don't want to miss anything either, and it turns out a global pandemic is the perfect way to balance out those two things. Before I go any further, let me just say that I would
Two years ago, I started interviewing people in the theater world about the problems within that community. All the subjects of the interviews remained anonymous to encourage people to speak directly and plainly without worrying that there would be consequences down the line. (Of course, even then, some people felt like outing themselves and getting in hot water, but we're going to leave that water under another bridge.) When I decided it was time to bring the series to a close, it was partly because I thought it had run its course, and partly because I had a new topic I wanted to tackle. While I've had my issues with theater and the people who do it, I've never felt like I didn't belong there, whereas from the moment I came out, I've never truly felt like a part of the gay community. To be clear, that probably has way more to do with me than the community, but it's something I wanted to explore, and I knew how I wanted to do it. The theater interviews were alwa