I Can’t Stop Thinking About Jinkx Monsoon
It’s Christmas morning, and I am an adult. In the last month or so, I have asked my family for a couple of gifts I think I’d like: a weighted anxiety pillow, a ring light that clips onto my phone, a few books. There is coffee and chocolate and French toast and some Christmas music playing in the background. Everything is nice. This is Christmas, when you’re an adult.
So when I unwrap two tickets to Chicago on Broadway — a show that’s making headlines for casting Jinkx Monsoon, my favorite drag queen, in a big role — I lose my fucking mind. My wife and my in-laws have teamed up to get me tickets, flights, and a hotel for a long weekend in New York. I feel like I might hyperventilate. I feel like I might pass out.
I spend the entire day buzzing with happiness, in awe of the surprise. Chicago has been one of my favorite shows since I was a teenager! Matron Mama Morton is an incredible character and a perfect role for Jinkx! Queen Latifah’s portrayal of Mama in the film remake of Chicago was Very Important to my early queer identity! EVERYTHING! IS! GREAT!
But. Less than 48 hours later, after the parents have all gone home and the wrapping paper is obviously still not put away, who do you think I am — I am in the bedroom getting dressed when sharp pangs of anxiety start ricocheting through my body. Out of nowhere I am sweating, panicking, unable to calm down. I feel again like I might pass out, but for a different reason.
Stuck in my head on a loop: I am going to ruin this.
Some background information: I make little rules for myself, and I follow them every day. Some of them are common sense, I think, and some of them are a little more convoluted, but I won’t tell you which is which.
When I’m looking for something in my fridge or pantry or backpack, I touch it to confirm that it exists. When I’m leaving the house, I touch all four knobs on the stove, then all four burners, then all four knobs again, to be sure they are off. When I eat a meal, I keep the leftovers only if they amount to another full portion (or two full portions, or three). When there’s an odd number of bowls or plates in my cabinet, I wash one to restore the supply to an even…