This weekend I saw a phenomenal one man show, starring Michael Urie, called Buyer and Cellar. The plot answers what would happen if a struggling artist worked in the mall in Barbra Streisand’s basement (which is real and featured in My Passion For Design). Hilarious and tragic as you might imagine. The play talks endlessly about la Streisand’s body of work including the Mirror Has Two Faces, including the endpart of The Mirror Has Two Faces where Barbra tells Pierce Brosnan that even though she’s pined for him and pined for him, now that he’s into it, he isn’t good enough for her.
I have never seen The Mirror Has Two Faces so I’m flying blind on that statement’s validity, but I can’t stop thinking about it. I never say that; I never even think that something or someone isn’t good enough for me. When I first moved to the city, I had a boyfriend who had a bad drug problem that dovetailed nicely with a pathological lying problem. It was the saddest thing I’ve ever been a part of and I never thought, “This isn’t good enough for me.” I once went to an audition where the guy basically smelled like death and told me he wanted to wrestle me while telling me that he wasn’t sure I was right for the part of a young Polynesian girl (I was not). And I never thought it. And I once hosted at a restaurant in Tribecca where I had to stand right in the door during December and January and it was so cold that I never stopped being sick. And during all those times, I thought I was paying my dues and being romantic and suffering for my art. But really, I was just unable to see that those things weren’t good enough for me.
We all deserve to be in fulfilling jobs with interesting coworkers and have fun hobbies and nice homes and things and people we love. We deserve to be prioritized and listened to. And it’s ok to get rid of something or someone because it’s not enough of those things. It’s ok to say, “This couch isn’t good enough for me; I want a new one.” “This life isn’t enough for me; I need to fill it with more art.” “This person continues not to meet me in the middle; fuck him or her. In the pejorative sense.” Life is too short to not have the best of everything.
Michael Urie as Barbra Streisand has opened my eyes. Now I can look condescendingly at an old lover and say, “Your girl is lovely Hubble.” I can stare a crazy friend in the eyes and tell her she can “trash her life, she’s not going to trash mine.” And I can stand anywhere near bland, basic bitches in Brooklyn and order them not to “rain on my parade!” So look out, Pierce Brosnan and baristas trying to serve me whole milk when I ordered skim and ill-fitting button ups (why do they always gap?), finally you are not good enough for me.