The Season of Food.

I had Thanksgiving dinner at my parents' house like last year. Rory drove in from Houston. Kendra drove in from Dallas. South intersected with North somewhere in the middle for a family feast. I had cooked an assortment of crisped vegetables, and my parents had the quintessential turkey with cranberry sauce, stuffing, mashed potatoes, and sweet potatoes. Shrimp and cocktail sauce was served as hors d'hoevres. I toasted with champagne, but felt like we did not have nearly enough fattening food on the table. Maybe my mother is so sick of cooking year after year that she gave up? I should have cooked more. I love dishes like creamed corn, green bean casserole, fresh bread with butter, and more comforting goodness. During a season when most people are hoping to lose weight, I'm actually trying to gain weight. Bring on the fat. People often look at me and say: "Are you able to afford enough to eat? You look so thin." I finally admitted this weekend that I probably am becoming too thin. My mom is taking me grocery shopping tomorrow to stock my kitchen with fattening foods. Rest assured, I do not look anorexic, but I guess I could stand to put on 5-10 pounds. I was always a twig growing up and it was not until college that I became "pleasantly plump." I remember my parents' horror when they watched me, their perfectly thin daughter, become suddenly curvaceous (adding 25 pounds). I had curves. I had cleavage. I was not what you would ever consider "fat" but my parents acted like I was monstrous. I had come home from college one Thanksgiving and I remember standing in the kitchen eating Reese's peanut butter cups and my mom looked at me and said, "You're eating... again?" Then she yelled for my dad. He came into the kitchen and they both stared at me like I was shooting up heroin at their table. "Look at yourself," my dad said. "You're practically popping out of your jeans." I held a Reese's peanut butter cup in my hand, unwrapped it, and popped it in my mouth. I knew that they had some serious serious issues about women and body image and that there was nothing wrong with me. I was not their perfectly thin daughter who had left their house years ago. I was changing. I was a woman and their criticisms were really not about my weight. It was about the fact that they did not approve of who I was, did not respect who I was, did not accept me, and wanted to control my life. The conversations became much, much uglier from there on out. I want to be accepted no matter if I weigh 145 pounds or 120 pounds.

Tomorrow I have an interview. My stomach is butterflies. It would be fantastic news if I were to be hired for this position.

cold day.

i live in texas and for a good reason. i cannot take the cold weather! temperatures below 60 send me running for the a big fire. today the sky was frosted with a thick gray and it looked ice cold from behind the windows. i have not left my apartment building the entire day, revelling in staying in pajamas and doing absolutely nothing constructive. in spirit of the season i strung red x-mas lights around the living room, lit candles, filled the kitchen with mulling spices, and snacked on chocolate peppermint candy.

i'm the sort of person who needs a ton of solitude. i enjoy spending the whole day alone to daydream and recharge from the world. i require this sort of time away. i have mischa here to keep me company. she has been sitting on her green chair in the living room for hours sleeping and purring. i'll be cooking dinner soon and will sit down at my kitchen table to do more revising with the poetry book, probably for the rest of the evening. i have to tell you that being your own editor is a bitch. the task of editing close to 60 poems feels overwhelming to me. i feel like i will never be finished, even though the poetry has been written! december 1st is circled on the calendar as the day i will submit the word doc. and cover/back design to the press.

for now i'm starting on boiling the noodles.

truths.

last night we attended the transgender day of remembrance vigil at the city hall. i have been involved with gay/lesbian/bisexual rights throughout my twenties and it was about one year ago that i began to meet some trans people that changed my whole perspective. i was challenged one year ago on this day in a deeper way than you may know. challenged to open myself to embracing that the woman i was seeing told me that she identifies as a woman and also as trans. i had always been under the preconceived notion that a woman is trans if she sees herself as a man. i realize now how little i understood. how little the public is taught about the varying degrees of transgenderedness. my ex-girlfriend explained, sitting across from me at a table in starseeds, that she does not see herself falling into either male or female categories, nor does she want to transition from feminine to masculine in terms of reconstruction. she is trans because she feels in between, not fitting into the social construct of what a woman is, being more comfortable with having short hair, wearing boy's shoes, boy's clothes, baseball caps, and boxer shorts. i was powerfully, inexplicably attracted to this woman who was not in women's clothes most of the time. i loved getting through layers of her boy clothes to her very feminine body. she was wonderful. but i will admit that i wrestled with my desire to see her in more girlie accoutrements and knowing that this was not who she is. not every day. i wrestled with waking up in the morning to my girlfriend's closet that more closely resembled a teenage boy's closet, and i felt angry with myself for having certain feelings and was generally confused. i did not feel brave enough to voice what i was feeling to her, for fear that i would offend her and that she would think i was rejecting who she is. i resolved to work it out on my own and more completely embrace the beautiful person i found her to be. when we were in bed, we were two strong women making love. when i was around her, she made me feel loved and safe and cared for. she was my lover. clothes are superficial, i told myself. snap out of it. clothes are superficial but clothes are apart of so much more at the same time. in time, some of our gender identity differences became the ultimate demise of our romantic relationship. our puzzle pieces did not fit together, no matter what i tried to do, and when our relationship fell apart, i was devastated.

amid that loss, i was hell bent on being completely comfortable with a range of gender expressions and healing whatever rift might have existed. i began going to some drag shows put on by kings 'n things and found that i loved them. i dressed in drag. i bought a tie. i read stone butch blues and learned more about trans issues. i have practiced burlesque, loving my fierce femme side. i was introduced to a man who used to be a woman, and is a sexy married man at that. i am sickened to see how mean and hateful some other people are towards other people in this world, and how many trans people are bullied and raped and murdered every year for simply being who they are. this month alone a trans woman was killed. one year ago today i would have gone to the tdr vigil with my then-girlfriend who came over to see me after the vigil. i had no real idea of what the vigil was about back then. we went to starseeds and she started telling me. the experience, this year, was moving. there were some poets and mothers of transgendered people.

a lesson with transitive verbs:
people hate other people.
people judge other people.
people sometimes kill other people.
people need other people.
people love other people.
people accept other people.
people transform other people.

afterwards S and i had margaritas and mexican food, escaping the cold fall air. the moon had a half-smile, which gave me some sense of hope.

i drove through dark street after dark street on the east side looking for the building climbing poetree was performing at last night. 45 minutes were spent driving around and around, sitting at stop lights, feeling more and more hopeless and worried that i was going to miss them. knowing that they were close and i could not reach them was a horrible feeling. "i give up!" i shouted at the traffic ahead, then discovered i was on the street. by the time i parked and walked to the front doors of the renovated warehouse, i was told that the show was completely SOLD OUT. climbing poetree means more to me than i have time to write about right now. i missed them when they came to austin a year ago and who knows when they will be back to texas. they are my inspiration. they are my hope. they are the link to some important people in my life. they are rare. i was crushed. alixa and naima were on the other side of that door and i could not go in. so i went home and fixed ramen noodles for dinner. i was sick over the bowl of steaming noodles and the alienating darkness of outside.

hurricane season clip: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=92z6Yx_27qs
i have faith that injustices will be exposed and the truth will be brought out into the light after a hurricane has swept through my life and possibly your life.



DIALOGUE: Anti-Feminist Manifesto
So you call yourself a writer?
   I’m a collector of stories.
How do you know that your writing is good enough?
    Being “good enough” is not the point of writing. I write because I love to.
Isn’t writing about real people a form of exploitation?
    Some of the greatest novels and books of poetry have been written about real people. So there. Fiction is often inspired by fact.
Maybe you should be a journalist instead?
    I’ve never wanted to be a journalist.
Well, I cannot allow you to have any connection to my circle of women whatsoever.
    Excuse me?
You are not part of MY community.
    How am I not part of your community?
You are not wanted here. Good luck finding somewhere else.
    I belong to your “community” as much as you and I suggest you start showing some respect.

i applied for an editor job at two in the morning and received a phone call by noon (i was still asleep). it made for the first phone call in a month. i have an interview! the company is apparently anxious to hire someone. it does make me wonder: is it a sign of a bad place? today i'm all nerves. i hate interviews beyond words. i have not yet figured out what to wear. i have to mapquest the office. i have to print out my resume. so much to do before the real interview.

tonight climbing poetree is here. i'm set to be inspired. these two know what is going on. i missed them last fall when they came to austin. i remember a friend who got to hang out with alixa and naima in new york at a weekend retreat and she almost gave them my poetry book, but had left it behind in austin.

two a.m. thoughts

i'm at epoch drinking coffee late late and cranking out another cover letter. mia kirshner was amazing to see face to face tonight. she was beautiful and touching and refreshing. it was as if i had walked onto the L word set and half-expected to see leisha hailey around the staircase. mia's hair is long now and she was dressed in black - classic dramatic jenny-style. i tried to discreetly sneak in a photo of her, but by the time i did she had moved from the center podium and appears as a blur. nonetheless, it made me SO HAPPY to be at her reading. her book "i live here" is regarding her personal work with people affected by genocide and poverty in various foreign countries, and the failures of amnesty international to reach them. we have poverty right here in austin and right here in america. does it not make you mad that bush has allocated billions and billions of dollars to the war in iraq when that money could have been feeding millions of people around the world? mia noted that some of the people she met exuding the most joy for living were ironically the ones living in poverty, and i recognize pieces of that truth in my own experiences. the cushier my life has become, the more privileged i have been in the material world, the more alienated and discontented i have felt with my life and with what i am doing here. i think it's because spiritual fulfillment cannot be found in material wealth. not that i've ever been rolling in it. you know what i mean, right? i love having money (to spend) but new clothes offer a temporary sense of happiness. i ran into j.p. by chance, who shared a warm latte with me at the whole foods store across the street after the reading was over. it was really, really nice to spend time talking. i told her that next month, as soon as my book is released, i'm dreaming up a POETRY & DRINKING soiree. everyone brings a book of poetry they love or a book they love to a wine bar or lounge.

i sat outside around noon waking up with a cup of coffee and watched the steady flow of traffic. it's warm. none of that 50-degree weather we experienced this weekend. i suspect the sudden change in temperature has stirred up the cedar in the air, and today i'm feeling the effects. i feel woozy and not that with it. i made myself spend 20 minutes at the gym, motivated by the treat of the t.v. since i almost never watch t.v. these days i've been removed from the hot topics in the media.

some powerful images came on of thousands of gay right activists gathering across the nation to protest prop. 8. the flood of straight and glbt people uniting almost brought tears to my eyes. canada happily reports that nothing bad has happened since the legalization of same-sex marriage and i have faith that our nation will legalize same-sex marriages within the next 10-15 years. we are continually moving toward positive social change. we will change the laws and the conservatives who are so "terrified" of change will see that there was nothing to fear, except for maybe their own hatred and ignorance.

everyone deserves equal treatment under the law.

i stayed up late working on revisions for the poetry book. next is tackling the cover design, the final piece i need before i can send it out to the press. i suppose it is a distraction from the job search. i'm beginning to fear that i will not have a job for months on end. i have not been able to bring myself to begin another job application today. i've applied to about 30 different jobs in the past month and have not received a single phone call. i know it takes time. i know there are many other people out there competing for the exact same few positions.

the spark in my day is seeing mia kirshner read at bookpeople tonight.

a photograph to hope.......

i'm so grateful for the people who were able to come to my party last night. on the table was fondue with green apples, french bread, roasted potatoes, broccoli, and red bell peppers; homemade pumpkin pie, brownies, popcorn, large bottles of red wine and champagne brought by friends, and hot apple cider. it was not a raging sort of house party with body shots in the living room. it was a cozy gathering on a cold november night. thanks to agatha for helping me string the x-mas lights around the room to light the place up!

i have this quote posted on my refrigerator door:

set yourself free from the past and move into the present moment with peace and happiness, letting go of anger and resentments. make the most out of each day.

i want to live not holding on. some people have a habit of making themselves prisoners of the past. my wish for these people is to find a way to get free. i'm conscious about the feeling of gratitude for what i have - like the fabulous friends around me - and not looking at what i think is missing from the present picture. but i had to acknowledge the disappointment about a certain someone not being there with us last night. accepting the basic state of impermanence and change is hard sometimes.

"living is all about the change...."

had i not been in the throes of baking yesterday afternoon, i would have been down at the city hall with the crowd of people protesting the passing of proposition 8. the written word has been my more immediate form of activism. poetry - storytelling - performance. but come to think of it every time i kissed my ex-girlfriend in public, that was activism happening in parking lots and restaurants and on city streets. there should be a city wide gay and straight makeout fest in front of the city hall to combat homophobia. a public demonstration of love and equality.

for as long as the L word has been around i've been at the receiving end of jenny schecter jokes. played by actress mia kirshner, i'm reminded over the years that i resemble jenny, the notorious "psycho-bitch." should i take this as a compliment or as an insult?

i always point out that simply because we have dark hair and blue eyes and are writers does not mean that i am like her character. but i have found myself coming to her defense from time to time, feeling a surge of compassion rise.

her character is messed up. she does get crazier in season five, and yet, what is really so terrible about her in relation to the others on the caste? i see her as someone who has not yet found herself, or rather, has not made peace with who she is and the confusion and lack of emotional stability on screen is what i think is so frustrating/annoying/threatening/upsetting to some L word fans. she is lost but there is beauty behind that. perhaps we have all had "that friend." perhaps we have all struggled to navigate the darker places within at some point in time.

she seems to strike a sensitive chord. my ex-girlfriend told me that her friends were "very worried" upon seeing that i look like jenny, and that i'm a writer. note to self: be jenny next halloween. i look at jenny and do not think i resemble her that much.

i have far more in common with the real life mia kirshner than with the character she plays. mia kirshner, in real life, is a bisexual writer and activist, and will be reading from her book at bookpeople on monday at 7 p.m. i missed leisha hailey's appearance when she was in town and i am not about to miss my doppelgaenger....

soon, like in december, i'm releasing my book of poems, dear austin, in time for the holidays. i'm also at work on my novel. i'm determined this time around to tell the stories that need to be told. i think that as writers we're collectors of people's stories - elaborate libraries waiting for the right time and place to release them. i feel i've been waiting my entire life to do it.

hello, and welcome.

in the past i've had a secret blog and then it got me into some trouble when it was discovered. i've decided to begin this public blog to stay in touch with people. i'm the writing sort but a bad correspondent. hence, the beauty of a blog. it's like writing one letter and having a dozen people receive it that same day.

as you may be aware last month i was laid off. my world has been turned upside down overnight, or is it right side up? i was sad at first and then angry to find myself out of work. now i've settled into a more positive outlook. something good will come through. fingers are crossed that i'll get calls soon for interviews. i remember going to work several weeks ago and being called into a "web meeting." when the news was broken that my job as a copywriter was no more i looked at the tall buildings outside the window downtown and thought of the world trade center towers crashing. how fragile our sense of security is in the world. how you can lose your job any day. your building can be bombed in under a minute. i had to take down the photographs on my cubicle wall and empty out the drawers. then i was escorted out of the building and to my car.

sometimes change is a blessing in disguise. i'm fearful to no longer have a stable income, to be standing out on this tree branch not knowing where the road will lead me, but i feel so free and inspired to do more. i wanted to blow up my cookie cutter apartment, figuratively speaking!, and run off into the country.

right now spending afternoons in coffee houses and collecting unemployment rocks. i'm happier. life should be one big celebration.

this weekend i'm throwing an autumn party complete with fall comfort food and pumpkins. last night mr. waters reminded me of that computer science department party he had taken me to several years ago, the one where we walked in the door and found everyone dressed with a tail and plastic pig nose on and it was not halloween, not even close. partying with computer nerds dressed as pigs was enough to send me straight to the kitchen looking for the vodka. i've been to some interesting parties. there was the lesbian birthday party with the hotdog theme. a crowd of lesbians stood around a grill eating hotdogs while my friend was dressed as a giant dick. and then there was the naked party in college with gay boys playing thumbwar in the nude. my autumn party will be colorful but probably tame in comparison.