good luck charm.

as i've written about before, my mom and i had a bad relationship for a good 25 years. she changed all of a sudden a year ago, and i've often wondered what had brought about this radical change in her attitude. there has been such a serious shift from negative to positive that it was as if someone had been slipping THC into her butter.

when she saw me yesterday, she said she wanted to give me a good luck charm. she handed over a blue marble stone with STRENGTH engraved in gold letters. "a friend of mine who died from breast cancer gave this to me, and eversince, good things have been happening."

she did not say who the friend was. she has never mentioned her before.

i held the cool, blue stone in the palm of my hand. sunlight glinted off the surface. i believe that this woman has had something serious to do with the changes in my mom this past year. i'm already grateful for her and profoundly saddened to know that her life was cut short by cancer.

we'll see what unfolds.....

i have a feeling that 2009 will be much better for all. cheers to the new year!!

crush.

here it is. the last woman/man/person i made out with on earth was e, my ex-girlfriend, and i have tried to detach myself from memories of her touch. to think there used to be a time in life when i would never go more than 3 months without making out with someone. 2008 has been a year of physical and spiritual cleansing, and i'm absolutely ready for someone new to fall into my world. i do not need any more time alone. thank you. i am perfectly fine left to my own devices. i drew the line with d. the other night after the movie. i like him. i would like us to be friends. trouble is when he hugged me goodbye, and i turned towards him, he had the impression that i wanted to kiss him and believes that i came onto him. i do not know how in the world this grave misunderstanding could have happened. maybe people see what they want to see? it was certainly one of the most awkward dates of my existence. we're scheduled to watch a swedish vampire movie soon and i'm going to have to be gentle but firm with communication. obviously i need to speak up about where we stand.//the lady hunt begins on the eve of december 31st. there is someone i've had an interest in, a positive sign that i am moving on from e. this girl showed up in town a couple of months ago. we've talked a couple of times. flirted. it does not hurt that she is a musician either, as i discovered today. when i think of myself with someone, i most often envision an artist/musician/poet. this singer-songwriting stranger has the most amazing, positive, pure, kind energy that is apparent right away. i was drawn to this about her. electrified by it actually. she is someone who wears her heart on her sleeve, and that is so rare to find. i wondered where she was from with her sweet southern accent. i cannot divulge any more specifics about where and what and when. she is a crush, and i'm going to see her perform on new year's eve. i may be a little too tongue-tied and need another glass of champagne. hell, she probably has a girlfriend. but it's nice to have someone new to like.

jobs. jobs. jobs.

writing from epoch coffee after spending the night applying for jobs and getting caffeinated. my former boss gave me an excellent lead at a company that is hiring here. he personally knows the human resource people so maybe he can pull a few strings :) i thought it was coincidental that he got in touch right when i was feeling so hopeless and out of luck. i had that doomed feeling at x-mas dinner over bites of cake. i chain-smoked for hours with A. (i would like to say that i have decided to quit smoking *for good* on january 1, 2009). i've been smoking cigarettes off and on since i was twenty-one. although i've never been a daily smoker, i do not want to die from cancer at a young age and know that quitting will be the most ALIVE choice i could make right now. cigarettes, how i love thee, but you are lady killers. i will breathe smoke-free air. i will be greener. i remember the days of working for the depressing call center at the american cancer society, which drove me to smoke even more. listening to people dying from cancer for 8 hours a day made me want to light up right after work. i had to quit. the job.

2009 is going to be a better year.

here is a list of some of my positive visions:
1) my poetry book is on a shelf at book woman and book people
2) new job
3) move into a studio or garage apartment?
4) guitar lessons
5) yoga classes at the center
6) cook more
7) teach a writing workshop (in the works...)
8) write my novel
9) meet my next girlfriend
10) be more involved with the drag performance troop
11) let go of past friends and ex-girlfriends who no longer nurture who i am (letting go of people you love is hard but necessary)
12) continue studying buddhism
13) only seek out relationships with people who value me
14) fill my place with more plants and herbs
15) get a beta fish


phew...

hello:

did you have a merry x-mas? i have a mountain of work piling up before me, and not the paid sort. my place and car are in need of deep cleaning, i have to apply to more jobs, and am in the later stages of getting the book published. not that you want to know about those details. i brought my friend A to x-mas eve dinner where she met my family at an italian restaurant downtown. we drank wine and ate homemade bread dipped in olive oil by candlelight. she said that could tell that my parents love me but could see how hard it is to be different in this family. they are so conservative! religiously they are not, but politically and intrinsically they are. having multi-colored hair or a nose ring blows them out of the water. i have struggled for most of my life to break free from the shell they placed around me and to FIND myself outside of what they want.

as with meeting most of my friends (male and female), we sensed that they at first believed that she was my lover, and we had to consciously convey that no no no, we are friends. they never met my ex-girlfriend, and i can only begin to imagine the intense scrutiny they would have placed her through at a dinner. this is what my parents have always done. they are suspicious about the people i bring them around, despite me using the word "friend" over and over.

on x-mas day we opened some gifts, had dinner at their house, and i picked yinon up from the airport late that night, followed by a strong martini with wyatt at the long branch, which was almost dead. hanging out with my boyfriends and getting tipsy on x-mas was nice, and it was an excuse to put on my little black dress. i had been hoping for more on this holiday at the end of the year. more like reconciliation and healing with my estranged friend out of state. but i'm taking it for what it is.

arts & crafts.

another sun-less, winter day blog post at a coffee house. family left town. they gave me a beautiful journal and a fat red candle. mmm. candles. last year i was crafty enough to make homemade candles. i got the inspiration from an article in BUST magazine. making your own candles is actually quite simple and fun. go to a craft store and purchase wax, dyes, fragrances, and wicks. you can use old milk cartons or re-use old candle containers for molds. one neat effect is adding ice when you pour the wax in. there is also glitter! i also made chocolate truffles to give as gifts and decorative, tinfoil boxes. then i made xerox copied books of my first poetry collection to give out. it was more like a first draft. this past year i've greatly expanded on and edited the collection. a local publishing company got back to me today about their interest in possibly publishing my work. i was ecstatic that they would even be interested. so. maybe i won't have to self-publish, which would be fantastic. my poetry needs a home. most poets out there choose to self-publish their collections, and only some are lucky enough to garner the interest of a major publishing company- that is most often after the poet has been published in a prestigious journal or has other books on the market. there is not a huge demand for poetry books, unless perhaps you are dead and become suddenly famous.

checking in

here i am again at the computer in the lounge of my apartment building. i have family in town this weekend and we ate dinner tonight at a new interior mexican restaurant downtown. i had sangria with shrimp & crab enchiladas covered in a tomato cream sauce and roasted pumpkin seeds. delicious. unfortunately, my body is emotionally exhausted or i'm falling sick. i feel completely drained of energy. my parents think it is emotional exhaustion from being unemployed. the stress, the worry, the hope, the rejection smooshed together has been very taxing, and they looked at me with concern when i left right after dinner. they have tried to cheer me up about being on unemployment, but deep down i know that they are afraid for me. i'm competing with thousands of people out of work and it's f*cking scary out to not have a job. i know that if worse comes to worse, i'm a kick-ass waitress. i could also substitute teach. i just do not have the energy level i had a month ago. i'm lagging far behind. i did go for a walk around the lake to catch some fresh air. the trees and the water are grounding, and as strange as this might sound, i feel like the trees give me energy. i think about how a little over two months ago i had a job as a copywriter for a company right downtown. i had a parking pass to park in the central garage- for free. i had the luxury of walking around downtown every day and being able to work with designers and editors and web people. i had a stable paycheck and health insurance. i had a real desk. when the v.p. broke the news to me that day in his office, i remember looking out the window at the tall buildings and remembering the 9/11 attacks; how our sense of security is really quite fragile; nothing is secure. we have the illusion of security. the american economy is in a bad place and many of us have absolutely no control over it.

silver linings.`

the university people called last night. i was excited and then sensed the downward spiralling tone of her voice. they have decided to offer the position to someone else. thanks for calling, i said, and that was that. i was crushed to learn that i will not have work next month, however, things happen for a reason, right? it must not be the right position for me. i'm bound for something else. in the words of a barista who serves me coffee: "i have a feeling you're headed for greatness." thanks, L. i like how you think. :) when events are not going well in our lives, we have the power to look for the silver lining and to hold onto our inner peace. there is a great unknown in 2009. when will i be hired? where will that be? what will i be doing? who will i meet? socially, i'm making myself get out and go to lesbian gatherings and to some of the lesbian nights at bars around the city this year, determined to meet my next girlfriend somewhere along the path. i'll be writing about my adventures in the lesbian underground. in other news, my poetry book is still in the revision stage, and i feel like my whole life is one grand mess right now. -no work -no lover -no publication -no health insurance -no x-mas gifts for people this year. 2008 has been a challenging year. i'm counting down 'til the new year.

milk.

we met at the ritz downtown. there was a 1950s black and white clip before the movie started warning children about the dangers of 'homosexual perverts,' and showed this boy running from a man following him out of the public restroom. it was f*cking hilarious. "milk" was about two hours long, and it was comical, moving, and inspiring. you should go see it! i found the relationship between harvey and his lover to be the most touching part and witnessing thousands of gay people marching through the streets of san francisco brought tears to my eyes. i realized i have been in the dark about the gay rights climate of the seventies. for me the movie definitely struck a deeper nerve than it did for the man i was with. he did not grow up being a closetted gay ballerina or face discrimination over his sexual orientation. he has not marched for gay rights like i have. he has not had to listen to his parents go on about how disappointed and sickened they are about his 'lifestyle.' he has probably not forced himself to engage in physical acts with people he had little interest in being with because he felt pressured to play a role to survive. the movie made me proud of belonging to this community of people, and i missed the hot sex with my ex-girlfriend and i missed my friend, the gay rights activist, and i have resolved to get out there more in 2009 and meet lots of girls. afterwards, he and i had interesting conversation and double chocolate stouts at a bar down the street. the streets were blanketed in a warm, londonesque mist.

*
"we have a responsibility to treat ourselves with kindness and then we will treat the rest of the world the same way." - natalie goldberg

the whole day had been my day to practice this sort of loving-kindness i used to not give to myself. i had lunch at an indian restaurant and bought a bouquet of red roses for myself. i dyed my hair a deeper shade of brown, which brings out the natural red highlights, and tacked a sweet card from my activist friend to the wall, beside the cards i save from all of my friends. her message makes me smile every time i see it. i think that i need to see it every day. months ago, she surprised me at work with the most gorgeous bouquet of white and blue hydrangeas at a time when i was feeling down (i.e. after the breakup), and my co-workers were convinced i had some secret admirer i was not telling them about. the flowers made me glow for weeks.

*

more from natalie goldberg:
-say YES to life
-love the details
-accept loss forever

i believe in the power of glitter.

so i have a "movie date" with a guy this week.

he is a friend of a friend who i thought was asking me to hang out sometime. apparently it is far more than hanging out to him. i'm suggesting that we see "milk" - a perfect modern gay film - and will insist on purchasing my ticket to subtly communicate the status of the evening. the poor man is so confused about my sexuality. he heard "m is a lesbian" and then "m is not a lesbian" and now i will have to break it to him on the night out to the theater with the reality that there will be no hanky panky going on. i'm just not attracted to *him.* he is in his thirties, an attorney, and i have the impression is looking for a wife. hmm. he could be the real solution to my unemployment problem. marry him, never need to work again, and be like "darling, on one condition...." which is that i would go on a lesbian sex spree in san francisco every year, funded by him.

i had a conversation with S about meeting women, and she said that she is always approached in public places by women. like at my favorite coffee house where she had a makeout session in the corner area last week. she has been in this city for 6 months and is on girlfriend #3? i'm not blessed like that most of the time. i have a feeling i will have to brave it to the rainbow cattle co. soon, a gay bar in town with an unsettling cowboy theme. more to come on that later.

i've been approached only several times by women in public places here. one was a barista at a coffee house i used to frequent to write "my novel." when she walked my plate of food over one day, she had written a message on the napkin especially for me. would you like to go out with me sometime? a) yes b) maybe c) no thanks. we did go out- several times- and i liked her, but given that she was 19 to my 25, i felt like i could not seriously be with her at the time. there was a huge gap in age. she could not drink. she was barely out of high school. *i* was the one who introduced her to ani difranco. now that she is a few years older, it would be different, in fact, i wish she would ask me out again, or i would ask her out. i definitely enjoyed our dates.

then there was a woman i'll call kato. for several years we would eye each other at bars and cafes. i used to wait for the bus every evening after work and she would drive up in her station wagon on her way to work. more glancing. more flirty eyes. she would inspire completely naughty thoughts. when i went to the cafe where she was working, she came up behind me and tickled my neck, running her finger right up to my hairline, sending tiny shivers through me. that was how the first date began. with a touch. but she turned out to be a player, and though i have no doubt that the sex would have been stellar, she was not interested in me as her girlfriend and i was not interested in being played around with for long. after her i met e, my ex-girlfriend, who was like a breath of fresh mint air to the tumultuous dating scene i had suffered through. we were together last year at this time and i have days like today when i miss her touch. i miss being with her. i hate how i can remember everything.

today i'm still waiting on the university to reach a decision. i wish they would see the light and choose ME to be their editor. the last interview was yesterday. i have been waiting in suspense for over two weeks. i'm going to be crushed if the news is negative, but with the new year and obama right around the corner, i have somethings to look forward to. agatha and i had lunch together at a japanese restaurant downtown today. sushi + miso soup + green tea. if i can have sushi, i think, life is OK. i would eat fish every single day of my existence. scallops, clams, oysters, crab, squid, shrimp, cod, lobster, salmon, rainbow trout, tuna.... i have become a hardcore lover of the sea.

resign as general manager of the universe.

today officially marks two months of unemployment. reality is now becoming really depressing and no red wine can make that disappear. i guess i believed that by some stroke of good luck i would be hired somewhere by now? i've been reminded that we are living in the worst economic climate of our lifetime and that thousands of people are out of work exactly like me. i might have to wait six months or a year before i'm employed. ack. i blame george w for this. i hold him personally responsible for so much horrible-ness. the disastrous aftermath of hurricane katrina to prop. 8. it was no real surprise then that the phone did not ring on this monday afternoon. i sat on my couch drinking hot coffee and staring at the downtown traffic that never ceases. the sky is a thick, gloomy gray and the wind is chilling to the bone. it is too cold to go out. sorry. i did not intend for this blog post to be so completely dismal, because there is much to be grateful for, but being out of work sux. i am bored with writing cover letters and following up about positions and going to interviews. i am also facing the grim reality that i will most likely never ever find my "beloved." when i recently told A that i've opened myself to the idea of dating men again, she said:

BUT BEING WITH A WOMAN IS YOUR DREAM.

it is.

the holidays

back when i was younger, my mom and her best friend used to throw a mother-daughter tea each december. about 40 mothers and daughters would come to our house and have their photo taken in front of the x-mas tree. the dining room table would be decked out with desserts, fancy punch, and spiked punch for the mothers, and it would be the one day out of the year i could have as much chocolate and candy as i wanted. when we moved to texas, the mother-daughter tea tradition came to a halt. she turned 56 on december 9th and we're going out this week for a drink after work to celebrate, sort of like a mother-daughter tea, except now i'm an adult.

i am still acclimating to the positive change in my relationship with her. see- for most of my life, she has been verbally and emotionally abusive toward me. it became so bad that i chose to end the relationship, not knowing if and when i would ever want to see her in the future. my mom had become this negative, toxic source in my life, beating down my spirit and leaving deep scars. when you're a kid, you sadly cannot escape an abusive parent. when you're an adult, you have ther power to walk away, and i did. after a year of no contact and after my dad begged me to begin speaking to her again, i agreed on certain terms and conditions. 1. she had to apologize 2. she had to treat me well and 3. she had to respect me and the decisions that i make. that was about two years ago; she has made a complete 180 in the middle of the highway of life.

i do not know if she came face to face with her own mortality and realized that this was not the mother she wanted to be, or if she had some great epiphany on LSD (ha), but her whole attitude about me has radically changed. instead of hurting, she is helping, and instead of being negative, she is supportive. but sometimes i wonder when she might decide to change her mind about me and revert to her old patterns. i have trouble trusting her sincerity and i have struggled with feeling angry that she was not nice to me for most of my life. i am still working through the damage she left. i have resolved to focus on the present and on the positive side of the situation. i think that having to deal with someone like her has made me stronger on the inside and more fearless. i had to learn how to be my own advocate and activist when there was no one else to stand beside me. i imagine she never thought her daughter would grow up to become her most formidable opposition. i win more with peace and stillness than with anger.

the weekend has been filled with warm holiday parties at friends' houses and a drag show on friday night where i was hit in the head by an air borne candy cane thrown by a drag king.

weekly horoscope.

it's an ideal time for you to throw a party for all the people you've ever been and all the different selves who live within you now. invite the teenager who once seethed with frustrated potential and the 4-year-old who loved nothing more than to play. include the hopeful complainer who stands in the shadows and dares you to ask for more, as well as the brave hero who comes out every now and then to attempt seemingly impossible feats of happiness. don't forget any of the various personalities who have contributed to making you who you are. celebrate your internal diversity. marvel at how good you are at changing.

miso soup.

one evening every month i like to have a friend over for dinner and drinks. tonight jess came for some miso soup, shrimp and vegetable tempura, and sierra nevada beer. i had wanted to fix gin & tonics, however, texas has this damn liquor policy about grocery stores and i had no time to visit a liquor store separately.

miso soup is surprisingly simple to fix and i would do it again in a heartbeat.
ingredients:
2 cups vegetable broth mixed with 2 cups water
30 spinach leaves
1/2 lb. tofu, diced
2 scallions, sliced
3-4 tbsp. miso
japanese all-spice to taste (optional)

bring the broth and water to a boil. add the spinach leaves and simmer for two minutes. add the tofu and scallions. set the heat to low. mix in the miso. that's it.

i created a huge mess in the kitchen when the hot oil scattered about with the tempura, but the process was fun.
ingredients:
1 1/2 c. flour
3/4 c. cornmeal
ice cold sparkling water

blend the flour, cornmeal, and water together in a bowl to form a paste. dip your vegetables into the paste and place in hot oil in a skillet. cook for several seconds on each side, then place on paper towels. i used broccoli, carrots, green beans, mushrooms, sweet potatoes, and shrimp.

we ate by candlelight at my kitchen table and it was nice to have the miso soup on such a cold night.....

the nose ring.

i used to have a nose ring. see? it was a small diamond sparkle that i intended to insert a small hoop through on occasion. i pierced my nose when i was 26. it was a graduate school gift to myself. my mother freaked and tried to scare me into believing that i would never be hired somewhere with this "teenage fad." i pointed out kindly that nose rings are not only for teenagers, that women around the world, particulary in india, are pierced for spiritual and deeply personal reasons. it is not simply a fad.

the piercing symbolized to me that i'm strong, that i'm a woman, that i'm liberated. i had it done at a trusted tattoo and piercing shop downtown by a woman who has been in the business for years. the moment she pierced the needle through my nose, it was the most painful sensation i have ever experieced, but the pain was over in about three seconds. i was a survivor. i was pierced for life. or so i wanted to believe.

it took me some time after graduate school to find real work. during those months of job hunting, my mom continued to put me down for my nose ring and i continued to stand my ground. my attitude was that i was never going to have her approval with or without the nose ring. she could disagree. it was my decision, not hers. the months wore on. i was still looking. i regret that i allowed her fear tactics to eventually sink in. i was working as a waitress and praying for the right job to come along, just surviving day to day. i decided to remove the nose ring with the knowledge that i could have it re-pierced at a later date. i wanted to be taken as seriously as possible in interviews. i knew that i was pierced - on the inside - i did not need the ring for the outside world. the ring was decorative. so i removed it, with tears, and the small hole healed shut.

several weeks after that, i was offered the position as a copywriter at the company. i did have my nose re-pierced, as i had promised myself, but in retrospect, i should have returned to the shop where i had been. i was at a tattoo and piercing show with a friend and a man did it. because it was pierced over scar tissue, there were complications this time around. the bleeding would not stop at first. it was horrible, horrible, horrible and it scared me. death metal was playing on the loud speakers. people were watching. it was not the holistic experience i had wanted. i cried in the bathroom with tissues over the bloody piercing as my friend consoled me that it was going to be o.k. i had to have the ring removed by the piercing shop the following day because it was not healing properly. they were worried about me. my blood was not clotting in time after it was removed. there was more blood. there was more fear. there was more pain. i have wondered if the bleeding had something to do with having my period those particular days. it was like my body was literally in a draining mode. i had gotten a blood test from the doctor shortly thereafter to confirm that nothing more serious was going on with me. the results were fine. i wish i had that nose ring still. but i've been pierced twice and it seems i'm not destined for it.....

an imaginary nose ring is on me.

Old West

Carlisle was the name of the town where I went to college. Situated between the winding roads that lead from Gettysburg to Harrisburg, at the foot of the blue haze of the Appalachian Mountains, Carlisle is a town of old trees and colonial houses lining brick streets. Bullets from the Civil War are lodged still within the stone walls of Old West, the original college building. Today the campus is bisected by the Main Street with its small boutiques, cafes, and pubs The KKK has a public demonstration in the square every spring, while the college assembles a peace protest to counter the display of white supremacy. The most gorgeous time of year to see Carlisle is autumn. Autumn is when the tall trees turn brilliant orange, red, yellow, and the leaves fall steadily between the historical buildings, almost like the snow that comes next, Old West being the focus on campus, a colonial, white stone building surrounded by walking paths and trees. Stairs lead to the two glass doors at the center, and the row of front windows always glow warmly into the darkness at night. Used as a school for the Indians before America was even chartered, as well as a hospital for soldiers in the Civil War, the stone walls of Old West are a record of over 300 years in American history. The boredom of small town life - hard liquor and beer the most popular entertainment – spurred me to seek some adventure. There had been rumors from the beginning: Janitors refused to be in Old West after dark, dead people were reported to haunt the rooms, the red carpet supposedly turned into a river of blood. Sophomore year, I worked up the courage with my first boyfriend to find out what was inside Old West at night. He brought a camera. I led the way up the side stairs and cracked open the door. It was quiet inside, except for the hum of the air conditioning vents as we walked. The carpet was a plush red and the white walls were decorated with framed paintings of the past college presidents, going further and further back in the decades and centuries of time. We paused to study their faces and dates. The doors to the main ceremony room had been left open, and stopping in the threshold, my boyfriend snapped several pictures of the half-lit space, complicated with shadows from the hanging crystal chandeliers and the tree branches outside. There was nothing out of the ordinary before our eyes and it seemed that no one else was in the building with us. We descended the opposite stairs down to the ground level, the level that had been most used for wounded and dying soldiers. Now there were no lights. We had only the moonlight to guide us along the hall. The doors to meetings rooms were closed, and we opened them one by one, peering into silence. The floor was completely silent; we only heard the shuffling sound of our steps. Holding hands now, we began to feel a little scared amid the darkness and the mustier smell of an old building that promised hauntings. He opened the last door at the end. Inside there was nothing except several tables and chairs. It was as he began to close the door that we heard something, a noise, a cough. My boyfriend looked at me. I looked at him. There it was again. A man’s cough inside the room with no one we could see. We both heard it loud and clear. Whoever he was, he was letting us know that we were not alone. We were not alone at all. It was enough to send us running down the hall and out the side door, back into the safety of the campus, not remembering if we ever closed the door to that room or not. And several days later, when he developed the pictures from the roll of film, in the main room of Old West were distinct white orbs floating through the open air. No carpets turned rivers of blood, but Old West is most definitely haunted.

sunday.

the spider house used to be my favorite coffee house on the planet. there was a change in management and the place took a turn for the worst. instead of the authentic, punk hangout it used to be, the baristas are forced to wear uniforms, there are surveillance cameras, you have to order from a server at a table, more people go there for hardcore drinking, and the owners purchase a whole bunch of kitsch that they purposely beat up to look more punk. it could be that i've gotten older and it is ME that has changed, or the spider house has actually been transformed into a house of plastic kitsch and chaos right before my eyes. i stopped going last year. i could no longer create in the new ambience. the concentration of noisy young hipsters ordering rounds of beer and bitchy wait staff turned me off. it was seven or eight years ago that jamin g. first brought me to the spider house on a date. i decided that it was the best coffee house i had ever been to. we ate cake together on the patio beneath hundreds of x-mas lights and drank hot tea. i have had many dates here, including evenings hanging out with friends and getting lost in hours of conversation. the spider house represented the soul of austin for a long time and it became part of my soul, not to sound too sentimental. there was one point that i spent almost every night here. i used to live in the neighborhood. now i have a different hangout where i sit today with my computer and a list of jobs.... i am thinking about how my life is going to change in the next year. it seems to weigh on where i'm hired next and what i can afford for rent. my book of poems will be out, i want to complete my novel in '09, and i would love to meet someone. i just do not know what is going to happen.


*

funemployment

i've been unemployed for about 7 weeks. the government places money into a special debit card account for me every other week. i go to an ATM machine, withdraw a large sum of cash, and deposit it. somewhat of a hassle. i've received some interesting looks from the bank teller when depositing $500 at a time. like i'm an exotic dancer for a living, or a crook. who deposits $500 in cash these days? i have held a huge wad of american dollars in one hand, too thick to close my wallet on, and feel wealthy for a few moments. i'll find out this week about the editor job. i think that probably i will not receive an offer. there will be someone else with more experience and more whatever it is. i have no control over what the university hiring gods decide. it would be fantastic to work for the university, but there could be something better out there. unemployment is what you might call: funemployment. i love not having to go into work on monday mornings and sleeping in as late as i damn well please. i plan to do just that on monday morning, unless i receive an important call that lulls me out of sleep.

i almost never can recall the dreams that i have at night as other people seem to be able to do. one would think i would be able to during this time of freedom and drifting. i did have a vivid dream about an estranged friend of mine the other night, and it has remained fresh in my memory eversince. in the dream, we were seated at a table in a restaurant with a group of people. she was on one end. i was on the other. i remember the ambience being significant. beautiful sunshine was flooding through large windows, filling the whole room with dapple afternoon light. the tables had white linen cloths and vases with colorful lilies and orchids. the walls were a light, natural wood. it felt like a contemporary french restaurant, or an elegant american restaurant. i noticed that my friend was wearing a white, flowing sundress to match the mood of the place, and i remember being aware of the emotional distance between us as the bodies of people acted as a cushion. the next part i can recall is that everyone else had left the table and we were forced to talk to one another. i moved to her end, and without words, she took my hand into hers. we sat like this, looking into each other's eyes for quite awhile. her eyes turned warmer and warmer, melting through whatever glacier there had been, and she seemed to be illuminated with happiness and love. "i love you," she said, and i had the feeling of being so completely loved, like she had reached in and wrapped a warm blanket around my heart. in the dream, i think it was understood that the love between us is deep and powerful. i would like to believe: unbreakable. i saw us walking outside holding hands and kissing at a street corner. she was my lover. i have wondered about the meaning behind this dream. one interpretation could be that she represents a part of me. i was metaphorically giving myself more love. or.... who knows. dream analysis fascinates me. i felt like this dream in particular was somehow symbolic and healing. i could not recall dreaming last night and headed out for brunch to meet a friend. the weather was warm again today, in the seventies with sunshine, exactly how i like it. we went to a mexican place called "juan in a million," situated in a hispanic neighborhood right near the projects, and feasted on mexican breakfast plates. i like the culture in that area compared to the other parts of the city. it is rougher, poorer, but with a warm mexican cultural vibe. there was a photograph of martha stewart and the owner together on the wall. texas absolutely rocks with mexican food and the creation of breakfast tacos. i sometimes joke that i live in texas for the breakfast tacos.

i would want to die in canada about now, or the midwest. i did meet someone else yesterday who is also from iowa. there is a whole underground web of iowa people living in austin. i could practically begin a facebook profile for the secret iowa people in this city. i do not know how i survived the winters the years we lived in iowa, and i know that after i crashed into the free shuttle because of the ice and totalled the front of my car, moving south was the best decision for me. i take solace in the knowledge that i will never ever have to dig my car out of the snow in the mornings before work like i used to do. i will also never ever have to be a secretary again at the drug rehab center. talk about writing material. more to come soon.

agatha and i drank a lot of red wine together at a wine bar down the street last night. i didn't have to drive home so i drank like a fish. the bar is in a renovated old bungalow right on east 7th. a little overpriced but worth the ambience. the temperature dropped to almost freezing and the arctic air officially marked the official beginning of winter. my lips turned purple from the wine. i won't post those photos here.

a late night photo of me dressed to go out. it sort of seems more like a mugshot.


today i went to a coffee house and re-read inga muscio's book, CUNT. she has gotten me thinking more about activism. there is so much attention called to violence against women - what about violence between women? as inga points out, it is perfectly acceptable for women to hate other women in our culture, to be cruel, prejudiced, back-stabbing, and downright catty. a patriarchal society needs women to stay divided. i feel like there should be more awareness about this: like a call for radical self-LOVE and for consciously spreading that love to melt down the hate. i feel like starting a "love project" on myspace.

the ad for the femme meeting is right along those thoughts:

FEMME ATX
A few of us femme-types in Austin have a desire for more intentional commuity. Maybe you do, too. Why? To increase femme visibility, to shatter stereotypes, to celebrate each other, to form alliances and allegiances and friendships, to plan badass events, to be radically in love with each other, to break down barriers that keep us apart.

i've found myself educating my straight friends on the various identities in lesbian land, identities which are forever fluid and in flux. a woman can go from butch to high femme overnight.

there is:
hard butch - butch - soft butch - boi/trans - soft femme - femme - high femme

i might be missing parts of the rainbow. i believe people are a blend of fixed and ever changing qualities. i was rather in the dark a year ago about all of that until i began seeing e, who was like the gender expression expert. it's stunning how dramatically your life can change within a span of 12 months. i look back on the life i was living a year ago on this day and i hardly recognize it. i was probably drinking wine and spending time with my ex-girlfriend. i had this great girl to make out with. i was working at the old company. i had just bought a car and was no longer reliant on the bus. and some of the people close to me are no more; my best friend moved out of state. sometimes, like right now, i become nostalgic and wish i could rewind time to last december. life feels harder this year. nonetheless, i am smiling more.

hello~

it's another warm, winterish day in austin, texas. i'm at rio rita with an iced americano and the laptop. last night amber came over for a visit and we stayed up late. i opened the seasonal egg nog and lost my appetite when i saw a cigarette in one hand and a glass of egg nog in the next. ew. the egg nog was placed back into the fridge. also: not smoking is sexy. but since i've been unemployed i've allowed myself to indulge in a few. wine, chocolate, and whisky are also pre-requisites. i feel that i have nothing of great interest to report at this time. life has slowed down this week. there is the wait about the editor job, more applications, more work cut out for me on the poetry collection. this weekend i'm going to a femme collective meeting at a coffee house for the first time. that should be interesting. as of late i've felt disconnected from the lesbian community here. i'm somewhat not too comfortable with the idea of belonging to a community, being leery of groups as a whole, but it would be nice to connect with other bi/queer/lesbian women like me living in the city. an issue i have wrestled with is that when i've had a boyfriend, i often experience a huge sense of loss. i love having a lesbian/queer identity. holding hands with a man becomes a search then for balance between the straight and lesbian pieces of who i am. the world sees me as a straight woman with him, and so i feel as though i have lost a part of who i am, like that side has disappeared or has been deleted. i think that this group might connect me to other bisexual women who are in relationships with men and who perhaps feel the same. oh- and because i am so flaming feminine it is hard to be visible. we might be able to all agree on that challenge.

Venting.

I would like to sit here, drinking hot cocoa, and never write another cover letter ever ever ever.

I've applied to 35 jobs total. Or is that 40 now? I've had two interviews. I don't want to have to do this whole process anymore. It is hard enough getting a phone call; and receiving a job offer is something else altogether. The interview at the university was this morning. I dressed in black pants, a pretty green shirt, and wore my glasses to look "intellectual." I also carried with me a black leather portfolio and notebook to convey "serious." I sat in front of a panel of five women in a barren conference room and let them attack with questions. Three were editors. I felt an instant rapport with the head editor. She seemed to like me and I liked her. But the book publication editor was more skeptical about my editing strength, and I felt like she had placed me under a fine magnifying glass, searching for some inevitable flaw. "It's clear that you're more of a writer than an editor," she said outright, reviewing my history, after I had devoted a half hour attempting to sell myself with a strong editing bent. I tried to transform her comment (err.. edit her comment). I tried to point out that it might be an asset for their department to have an editor with a background as a writer since I would be corresponding regularly with contributing writers. I sensed she did not seem too convinced. A master's degree in English apparently does not get one too far.

We talked for about an hour in all and I thanked them for meeting with me. I have absolutely no idea where I stand on their chart of candidates. I'm afraid that the fact that I'm a writer is going to be the deal breaker. I have 100 percent confidence that I could do the job and to know that I came so close....

royally bites.

I would love to do it. I suppose I might be surprised next week. Their department could call with some good news. Today, I chalk it up as a learning experience and conversation with more people I will never see again.

My mom met me at the grocery store later on and literally filled the entire shopping cart to the top with food. The cart was almost overflowing. No one has ever bought that much food for me at once in my life. I can prove it to you with my well-stocked fridge and cupboards now. I had to make five separate trips back to the car to carry everything inside. She is seriously trying to fatten me up. After I could not eat an entire bowl of Pad Thai with shrimp, I found myself thinking: You've gotta love the fat girl as much as the thin girl. How about some self acceptance?

My mom thinks my cat is too fat. Mischa is purr-fect. I remember an ex-boyfriend's cat, George, who weighed over 20 pounds. His belly grazed the floor when he walked. He has since placed George on a diet.