I'm obsessive. I think we can all agree about that. And one of the things I'm obsessive about is musicals. Odd, dark, weird musicals in particular. Especially one by Adam Guettel called Floyd Collins. Well, for years and years. I think almost eight years now, I've been obsessed with this musical. I adore it, I used a song from it for an audition (the last time I auditioned for a musical) and have dreamed about it for years. I want to stage it. I want to work with the composer Adam Guettel on something similar. I want to be Adam Guettel's Harold Prince or James Lapine. (This is a reference to my two favorite Sondheim directors.) ANYWAY. I adore this musical and the voices in it.

So, today at work I went to a reading of a play we're doing in the spring, Theresa Rebeck's The Bells. (And no, this is not tangentel, non sequetorial, or just crazy, this is connected.) I'm sitting there, staring dreamily at the actor playing the bounty-hunter from Montreal. Just thinking, "My god, that man is beautiful, and he can act, mmm and his voice is lovely." The inner monologue went on through the whole reading.

I go back to my office to type in the contracts for the actors in the reading, and, as my obsessive nature has me do, I google the actor I've been staring at all afternoon, Christopher Innvar. What should pop up, but tons and tons of links to Floyd Collins. My heart stops. I'm thinking, "Oh, he must've been an extra, or in some crazy little production with an overactive webmaster." But no, his name pops on the Amazon link to the soundtrack that I own. And... Mr. Innvar plays the title role.

All those nights I would listen to this album on repeat in my dorm room, or in my headphones as I walked through blizzards, or pursued other obsessions, I was listening to the dreamy actor I just spent three hours with this afternoon. And to pile good news on top of my already fluttering heart and tearing eyes (As that's how my body is responding physiologically to this crazy juxtaposition of long past aural and recent visual stimuli.) he might be playing the role here in the Spring. Spending at least a month in the same building as me.

I don't think I was built to handle meeting my obsessions face-to-face. God help me if Russell Crowe should ever come visit the theater. And what am I going to do when I'm a working director? Swoon over my actors? I must learn self-control. But dammit, I love getting giddy and crushalicious.