it's 10:30 on a friday night and my contacts are sticking to my eyes. i've been awake since around 6:30 a.m. and feel sleepy, drained, and under the weather. i'm drinking a cup of chai to relax. i found out that my dad was laid off today. i'm worried, seriously worried for his situation. many companies out there are not interested in hiring on a 61 year old. i have a feeling, and i don't mean to be a pessimist, that it is going to take six months or more for him to find a job here, and who knows how stable that will be. i'm most worried because my parents are probably never going to be able to retire. some positive news is that i may be promoted at my company within the next several months. i presented an idea to my manager about how their website could be greatly improved and in turn generate more money, and he instantly talked to the CEO who apparently loves my idea and has been discussing it with his executive staff. i went into semi-shock that i was being taken seriously. if they actually implement my suggestions, i would be a full-time writer in the near future. fingers crossed. i would love to do that. i simply feel that i have no control over what someone else decides.
"you sound like you might need some me time tonight..." elle said over the phone. "just checking."
she is perceptive. i protested her statement at first and said, "no...i want to see you." then i knew that she was probably right. i would not be much fun to hang out with when i'm in this state, and i was being indecisive as hell, not able to narrow it down to one place for us to meet. i changed my mind every five minutes.
"let's go to vino vino, or the long branch, or how about the whip-in, no, halcyon, no, the gingerman? why don't you decide. i'll meet you wherever you want. the blue dahlia?"
usually i stay in on friday nights to recharge from the work week. it's like being in my cave. i need the solitude and the calm, time to be away from the world. i think that people are unique like that. i have my own rhythm and clock, my own likes and dislikes. simply because the rest of the world parties on friday nights, it does not mean i want to. i do not like 1. running, 2. cold weather, 3. waking up early, 4. science, 5. most fruits, except for berries and oranges, 6. drinking milk, 7. most sports and games, and 8. wearing the color pink.
it's true. i used to force myself to like running and the cold weather, but that goes against what feels good.
tomorrow involves house hunting and meeting up with elle and friends at a live performance in the afternoon. we're going to see hadassah hill, a queer femme performer from nyc, along with a huge crowd of people.
Friday, February 27, 2009
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
worth it.
i like the sound of silence in a room when i can hear each key being typed and my glass of wine clunking on the table as i set it down. it is within this silence that i can hear myself think after a long day at the office. lady x, or elle, has been filling up my free time and inspiring the romantic in me, that part i had to shove into a bottle for many months. it feels good to be dating again, even though i know that she will be leaving in about 4 weeks to return to san francisco. it feels wonderful to have someone like her to share evenings with, someone to leave a bouquet of roses for on their doorstep simply because you are moved to. i'm planning to pack in as much fun and romance as possible. we kissed for a long time on my balcony in the sunshine before we went for a walk, before we had cocktails at a neighborhood cafe, sitting at a table next to a crowd of punk lesbians, before we held hands on the walk back and people stared at us like we were from another planet. one whole side of my body got sunburnt to a lovely crisp from making out under the sun, but it was worth it. the day was completely worth it.
i think we're both feeling stressed out this week about responsibilities, obligations, money. i've been house hunting with alicia and had to handle my first freelance client, which was a learning experience. what a headache this woman was to deal with. she left a series of rude messages on the phone and was demanding and not at all comprimising. when you're a freelancer, you have to remember that 1. you are not a charitable service and 2. you have to stick to your rates and know what your work and time is worth. the time it would require for me to read thirty pages of scientific material and write up several pages is worth at least $100, not the $60 she wanted. i'm standing up for myself and for writers everywhere.
"you're worth it, baby."
i think we're both feeling stressed out this week about responsibilities, obligations, money. i've been house hunting with alicia and had to handle my first freelance client, which was a learning experience. what a headache this woman was to deal with. she left a series of rude messages on the phone and was demanding and not at all comprimising. when you're a freelancer, you have to remember that 1. you are not a charitable service and 2. you have to stick to your rates and know what your work and time is worth. the time it would require for me to read thirty pages of scientific material and write up several pages is worth at least $100, not the $60 she wanted. i'm standing up for myself and for writers everywhere.
"you're worth it, baby."
Saturday, February 21, 2009
gushing.
saturday. 4 in the afternoon. i'm sitting at rio rita with an iced coffee, one packet of sugar, a touch of half and half, and am re-playing these beautiful moments in my head.
she kissed me for the first time downtown after dark, standing in front of my parked car on a relatively deserted street, while two men walked by us, two ultra feminine women lip-locked, hands around each other's necks. i had almost forgotten how wonderful it feels to be kissed and how wonderful it feels to be dating someone. tomorrow, we're having a long, romantic day together in the sunshine. breakfast at a popular, punk hangout, a nature walk, swimming, and more. i'm soooo looking forward to it.
i had a father-daughter dinner last night over chinese takeout. my dad said, "honey, i've noticed how much happier you sound lately. your new job seems to be working out well for you." he thinks i'm gushing with happiness over my job. ha. i wanted to tell him about the new girl i'm seeing, but it is so new that i feel the need to wait awhile. no lies this time around. the relationship with e paved the way for greater openness with the parentals.
when i came out of the closet at 21, some of you reading may recall what their reaction was. my dad said he was "very disappointed" and that he never would have expected for me to pull something like this. he had one main question for me: "do women turn you on?" i would not answer that. my mom was "very, very, very disappointed" in me and said that i obviously need psychological help. "you must have such a low self esteem. clearly, you can't take the rejection from men. it's unnatural. it's so disappointing. you think that being a lesbian is so cool, don't you. it isn't cool at all. i want you to know how extremely disappointed in you we are. we are so disappointed that you are choosing this. you cannot possibly be a lesbian. you're far too feminine. there would have been signs when you were growing up. your life is basically ruined, because you'll never be able to hold down a job. no one will want you to work for them once they find out. you can just forget about having a career."
and she was obviously still living in 1976.
i let them take in the news over the course of the following six, seven years and today they are not as negative about my "gay agenda." they've chilled on that subject. maybe they have seen how happy having a girlfriend in my world makes me, that i'm successful with or without some man at my side, and that it is more socially accepted in this century to have a gay daughter. thank you lindsay lohan, ellen, and portia, to name a few. what i hate about my parents' reaction is that i became suddenly so sexualized overnight. imagine your dad asking you, "so...does being with a man turn you on? you think it's so cool to be with one, huh. well, you can forget about having a career, sweetheart."
like i've said before, my parents are square as it comes. they blend right into the country club and republican convention scene. people who are different from their fixed ideas about life are frightening to them, more so with my mom than with my dad. i appreciate the progress they have made in opening up their minds a little. they've become more accepting over time.
she kissed me for the first time downtown after dark, standing in front of my parked car on a relatively deserted street, while two men walked by us, two ultra feminine women lip-locked, hands around each other's necks. i had almost forgotten how wonderful it feels to be kissed and how wonderful it feels to be dating someone. tomorrow, we're having a long, romantic day together in the sunshine. breakfast at a popular, punk hangout, a nature walk, swimming, and more. i'm soooo looking forward to it.
i had a father-daughter dinner last night over chinese takeout. my dad said, "honey, i've noticed how much happier you sound lately. your new job seems to be working out well for you." he thinks i'm gushing with happiness over my job. ha. i wanted to tell him about the new girl i'm seeing, but it is so new that i feel the need to wait awhile. no lies this time around. the relationship with e paved the way for greater openness with the parentals.
when i came out of the closet at 21, some of you reading may recall what their reaction was. my dad said he was "very disappointed" and that he never would have expected for me to pull something like this. he had one main question for me: "do women turn you on?" i would not answer that. my mom was "very, very, very disappointed" in me and said that i obviously need psychological help. "you must have such a low self esteem. clearly, you can't take the rejection from men. it's unnatural. it's so disappointing. you think that being a lesbian is so cool, don't you. it isn't cool at all. i want you to know how extremely disappointed in you we are. we are so disappointed that you are choosing this. you cannot possibly be a lesbian. you're far too feminine. there would have been signs when you were growing up. your life is basically ruined, because you'll never be able to hold down a job. no one will want you to work for them once they find out. you can just forget about having a career."
and she was obviously still living in 1976.
i let them take in the news over the course of the following six, seven years and today they are not as negative about my "gay agenda." they've chilled on that subject. maybe they have seen how happy having a girlfriend in my world makes me, that i'm successful with or without some man at my side, and that it is more socially accepted in this century to have a gay daughter. thank you lindsay lohan, ellen, and portia, to name a few. what i hate about my parents' reaction is that i became suddenly so sexualized overnight. imagine your dad asking you, "so...does being with a man turn you on? you think it's so cool to be with one, huh. well, you can forget about having a career, sweetheart."
like i've said before, my parents are square as it comes. they blend right into the country club and republican convention scene. people who are different from their fixed ideas about life are frightening to them, more so with my mom than with my dad. i appreciate the progress they have made in opening up their minds a little. they've become more accepting over time.
Monday, February 16, 2009
Sunday, February 15, 2009
valentine's day.
sometimes i feel as though i'm living a double life with my blog. there is blog life, and then there is real life, which lets everything hang out in true form, the way i like it, with no red tape on fantasies, kisses, and sex. i can report here that some new action has been lighting up the romance sector of my real life, which made my valentine's day weekend extra sweet and spectacular.
i'm very, very gay for someone in particular. she's absolutely darling, sweet, kind, and all of my friends who have met her dig her, maybe even as much as i do.
my heart is like a chocolate candy heart melting around the edges, and all i have is NOW. i want to savor every piece.
at my eff valentine's day party, i was given some bitch wine, a sachet filled with rose petals, rose incense, soap in the form of a gorgeous rose, valentine's day mixed c.d.'s, japanese ice cream, chocolate, saki, sweet white wine, and everyone brought asian food.
we had thai tom-kha soup, spring rolls, lemon broccoli, chicken coconut korma, saag paneer, and jasmine rice, plus chocolate covered strawberries and green tea ice cream for dessert.
i served "bloody valentine" cocktails - a concoction of sparkling soda water, cherry grenadine, and vodka - and wove pink and red x-mas lights around.
to be with friends and lady x made for a most memorable night. i would say valentine's day '09 was smashing. i felt lucky. i hope yours was as delightful, if not more so. --@
i'm very, very gay for someone in particular. she's absolutely darling, sweet, kind, and all of my friends who have met her dig her, maybe even as much as i do.
my heart is like a chocolate candy heart melting around the edges, and all i have is NOW. i want to savor every piece.
at my eff valentine's day party, i was given some bitch wine, a sachet filled with rose petals, rose incense, soap in the form of a gorgeous rose, valentine's day mixed c.d.'s, japanese ice cream, chocolate, saki, sweet white wine, and everyone brought asian food.
we had thai tom-kha soup, spring rolls, lemon broccoli, chicken coconut korma, saag paneer, and jasmine rice, plus chocolate covered strawberries and green tea ice cream for dessert.
i served "bloody valentine" cocktails - a concoction of sparkling soda water, cherry grenadine, and vodka - and wove pink and red x-mas lights around.
to be with friends and lady x made for a most memorable night. i would say valentine's day '09 was smashing. i felt lucky. i hope yours was as delightful, if not more so. --@
Thursday, February 12, 2009
today i applied red lipstick to be different.
a new friend told me what miranda july said. "you have to make every art release of yours a big fucking deal." those might not be her words exactly. but you get the gist. no matter how small and insignificant your work may be to the rest of the world, you need to treat it as though it's major.
so. here is what i'm thinking: a party for the release of my poetry book at my favorite coffee house with a live band. announce it in the literature and gay place sections in the chronicle. just make it into this huge, ridiculous, crazy event with plenty of wine, people, and art.
when is it going to be released? that has been the question.
arrangements with my designer for the cover are still underway. i have to get the full stats from the print shop. and now i'm looking into adding photographs of my art into the book, which now brings about the possibility of needing some more time to make more paintings.
perhaps i should just have the release coincide with my 29th birthday in april.
some details need to be ironed out....
tomorrow night is the "my bloody valentine drag show" and then my "eff valentine's day or single's awareness night" fest. stay tuned for photos.
a new friend told me what miranda july said. "you have to make every art release of yours a big fucking deal." those might not be her words exactly. but you get the gist. no matter how small and insignificant your work may be to the rest of the world, you need to treat it as though it's major.
so. here is what i'm thinking: a party for the release of my poetry book at my favorite coffee house with a live band. announce it in the literature and gay place sections in the chronicle. just make it into this huge, ridiculous, crazy event with plenty of wine, people, and art.
when is it going to be released? that has been the question.
arrangements with my designer for the cover are still underway. i have to get the full stats from the print shop. and now i'm looking into adding photographs of my art into the book, which now brings about the possibility of needing some more time to make more paintings.
perhaps i should just have the release coincide with my 29th birthday in april.
some details need to be ironed out....
tomorrow night is the "my bloody valentine drag show" and then my "eff valentine's day or single's awareness night" fest. stay tuned for photos.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
famous for a day.
i've missed falling into a day to day rhythm, the rhythm that involves waking in the morning and driving to an office with other people on the road, sitting down at a desk with a cup of coffee and giving my full attention to a new piece that needs editing. i've come to like the job a bit more than i did when i began, and there are some perks i overlooked before, such as the free sweet leaf iced tea in the lounge, the multi-colored pens, and the catered breakfast on wednesdays. we have no real stress. i looked at k sitting beside me on monday morning, after having a small crush on him over the weekend, and decided my romantic interest was really no more. it was 72 hours of imaginary dating and i think we're going to be friends. i forgot to mention that even though this job i have sounds better on paper than it does in real life, i did make the newspaper. the austin-american statesman asked to photograph me for an article they were featuring about companies that are actually hiring during our recession. "hey, you're famous for having a job," somebody said. i made the newspaper- because i have a job. who ever would have thought of such a radical concept.
Sunday, February 8, 2009
issues.
it's the weekend, my most favorite time to unwind and write in coffee houses. this time- no more cover letters.
i'm exhausted from job training and probably the stress of having been unemployed for 3.5 months. on both friday and saturday nights i slept over twelve hours, not to mention experiencing the appetite of a pregnant chic. my new job, to be honest, sounds better on paper. the depressing part is that i've applied to over 70 jobs in austin since october and had but 3 job interviews. this was the only company that would hire me. i'm so overqualified for this position that i could break down and cry.
in my past job i was one of the lead editors/copywriters for a luxury travel website. i helped build the website from scratch. i coordinated meetings and supervised interns. i got a chance to train under a renowned writer from conde nast travel and work with some talented people. i was granted freedom and responsibility and creativity. i wrote about hundreds of hotels, destinations, and created copy for ads. my boss was like susan sarandon, empowering me to do more in the business world, and treated me with respect. it was an amazing opportunity back then. now i find myself at the bottom of the company ladder, spending the day transferring data for ads from one website to the next with only some copywriting mixed in. copy, paste, copy, paste. that is what the people on my team are reduced to. the job description from their ad was such a joke. it's a serious step down from what i used to do at work.
this company is a different travel website, and they could absolutely use someone like me to enhance the quality of content on their site, but oh no, it's corporate america and that is not apart of my job description. i figure i am going to have to wait to prove to the managers what i'm good at, and maybe i will be moved into another division. being stripped of what i did before is a hard pill to swallow day to day, but on the brighter side, i managed to find a job during this recession and it is only for right now. i'm looking into being a freelance editor/writer on the side so that i can maybe one day crawl out of this hole and work from home. be my own boss. i would love that.
the start date had been relatively up in the air since my background check was waiting to be processed. i negotiated starting on this coming monday instead of in the middle of last week. then i received a mean, mean lecture from this one woman about how this is "a professional company" and that it is so unprofessional of me to request something like that. i was fucking shocked at the reaction. she was yelling at me. yelling. and asked if she needed to have a chat with me about working in a professional environment. the rudeness and degree of hypocritical unprofessionalism was unbelievable. my old company believed in accommodating their employees and investing in people. maybe they should be concerned with how they treat their employees and actually give a damn about some of their needs so that we will want to stick around. i am not going to be yelled at or treated like shit, and given that they had me waiting around for so damn long, allowing me to start on that following monday should not have been unreasonable and certainly did not merit being yelled at. i would have loved to have told this woman, fine, go find someone else to be your bitch, missy. i hope to one day have the freedom to control who i will and will not work for, and it's quite obvious that her main concern is money, not people and their work. so i'm momentarily stuck in this hell of a place, vacillating between resentment, cynicism, gratitude, and ennui. the cute redhead of a boy who sits next to me is a godsend, and we are becoming fast pals. it has crossed my mind, because of the instant chemistry we shared from moment number one, that we might date each other down the road. he has already more or less asked me out. 1. he is not a girl. 2. he is significantly younger and 3. we work together. how would dating a man again fit into my world? would he be able to accept being with a bisexual woman (who likes to perform in drag)? how would this be? would i be able to stay in a relationship with a man? i accept that my queer identity, like our community of people, is continually changing, progressive, flexible, and inclusive of different sides to existence. i'm focusing on controlling less and embracing what the present moment has to offer.
i was at a femme collective gathering on friday after work where i met some awesome new women. i like that this community is so open and accepting of diversity. i have also signed up to be a model in a "trashy fashion show" put on by the drag troop producer in march. that is right. i will be on stage wearing semi-scandalous clothes designed by a local artist from alternative materials. i call it glam trash. the glitch is that after i volunteered, my ex-girlfriend volunteered to be a model. we're going to be models together in the same show. fuck. or fabulous. i'm not sure what the spring will bring.
next weekend is a fuck valentine's day fest at my apartment, or a celebration of "single's awareness day." i'm having a cool mix of old and new friends over for cocktails and a potluck dinner. the color black and cynicism is in.
i'm exhausted from job training and probably the stress of having been unemployed for 3.5 months. on both friday and saturday nights i slept over twelve hours, not to mention experiencing the appetite of a pregnant chic. my new job, to be honest, sounds better on paper. the depressing part is that i've applied to over 70 jobs in austin since october and had but 3 job interviews. this was the only company that would hire me. i'm so overqualified for this position that i could break down and cry.
in my past job i was one of the lead editors/copywriters for a luxury travel website. i helped build the website from scratch. i coordinated meetings and supervised interns. i got a chance to train under a renowned writer from conde nast travel and work with some talented people. i was granted freedom and responsibility and creativity. i wrote about hundreds of hotels, destinations, and created copy for ads. my boss was like susan sarandon, empowering me to do more in the business world, and treated me with respect. it was an amazing opportunity back then. now i find myself at the bottom of the company ladder, spending the day transferring data for ads from one website to the next with only some copywriting mixed in. copy, paste, copy, paste. that is what the people on my team are reduced to. the job description from their ad was such a joke. it's a serious step down from what i used to do at work.
this company is a different travel website, and they could absolutely use someone like me to enhance the quality of content on their site, but oh no, it's corporate america and that is not apart of my job description. i figure i am going to have to wait to prove to the managers what i'm good at, and maybe i will be moved into another division. being stripped of what i did before is a hard pill to swallow day to day, but on the brighter side, i managed to find a job during this recession and it is only for right now. i'm looking into being a freelance editor/writer on the side so that i can maybe one day crawl out of this hole and work from home. be my own boss. i would love that.
the start date had been relatively up in the air since my background check was waiting to be processed. i negotiated starting on this coming monday instead of in the middle of last week. then i received a mean, mean lecture from this one woman about how this is "a professional company" and that it is so unprofessional of me to request something like that. i was fucking shocked at the reaction. she was yelling at me. yelling. and asked if she needed to have a chat with me about working in a professional environment. the rudeness and degree of hypocritical unprofessionalism was unbelievable. my old company believed in accommodating their employees and investing in people. maybe they should be concerned with how they treat their employees and actually give a damn about some of their needs so that we will want to stick around. i am not going to be yelled at or treated like shit, and given that they had me waiting around for so damn long, allowing me to start on that following monday should not have been unreasonable and certainly did not merit being yelled at. i would have loved to have told this woman, fine, go find someone else to be your bitch, missy. i hope to one day have the freedom to control who i will and will not work for, and it's quite obvious that her main concern is money, not people and their work. so i'm momentarily stuck in this hell of a place, vacillating between resentment, cynicism, gratitude, and ennui. the cute redhead of a boy who sits next to me is a godsend, and we are becoming fast pals. it has crossed my mind, because of the instant chemistry we shared from moment number one, that we might date each other down the road. he has already more or less asked me out. 1. he is not a girl. 2. he is significantly younger and 3. we work together. how would dating a man again fit into my world? would he be able to accept being with a bisexual woman (who likes to perform in drag)? how would this be? would i be able to stay in a relationship with a man? i accept that my queer identity, like our community of people, is continually changing, progressive, flexible, and inclusive of different sides to existence. i'm focusing on controlling less and embracing what the present moment has to offer.
i was at a femme collective gathering on friday after work where i met some awesome new women. i like that this community is so open and accepting of diversity. i have also signed up to be a model in a "trashy fashion show" put on by the drag troop producer in march. that is right. i will be on stage wearing semi-scandalous clothes designed by a local artist from alternative materials. i call it glam trash. the glitch is that after i volunteered, my ex-girlfriend volunteered to be a model. we're going to be models together in the same show. fuck. or fabulous. i'm not sure what the spring will bring.
next weekend is a fuck valentine's day fest at my apartment, or a celebration of "single's awareness day." i'm having a cool mix of old and new friends over for cocktails and a potluck dinner. the color black and cynicism is in.
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
last day of vacation.
tomorrow i have to be awake before 8 a.m. it's the first day on the new job. for someone who usually does not wake before 10:30, sometimes noon, this is going to be fucking hell. i will indefinitely need to go to starbux for a triple shot fix on the drive to work. i've never been a morning person, and i had a hard time working at my past company because of that. everyone knew not to engage me in conversation until mid-morning. everyone knew i was not cheerful at 8 a.m. i'm panicked about this new job because i have to talk to clients that early and sound not only together but cheerful. how am i going to pull that off? when the h.r. director spoke with me at 9:30 in the morning, the first words out of her mouth were: "you sound terrible." this was our initial introduction. she was, of course, so energetic sounding. my fiction writing talents had to kick into gear to come up with a good excuse. i'm a writer. most writers are quiet people face to face.
i slept in as late as possible today. 12:30 by the time i took a shower. 2:30 by the time i came to this coffee house and ordered a double americano. i feel like i never want to move from the chair.
i remember the surprise i had meeting michelle tea, one of my favorite writers on the planet. she comes across as this outspoken, loudmouth on paper. in person, she is actually quite shy and introspective, or at least she was at the book reading. i've since realized that many writers are like that. we aren't loud people. she came into town in 2004 to give a reading from "rose of no man's land" at book woman, the only feminist owned bookstore in the state of texas, and the store was packed that evening, mostly with twenty-something queer girls like myself. it was absolutely positively amazing to see her at the front of the room. e and her then-serious-girlfriend were there with me. but that was before e and i knew each other. i think my friend j was in the crowd as well. we were all there.
michelle was nervous, and read so fast that she did not look up once during her reading. she was standing in the same place where i started reading my poetry at open mics, and fumbled with my words. i understand how disgustingly nervewracking it can be to share pieces of your soul with an audience of strangers staring right at you. when i read a few poems at the first open mic, i thought i was going to be sick, like my heart was about to explode from my chest. and michelle was shaking. i was shaking. i know that when i perform in drag or burlesque later this year, i will probably experience the same nauseating anxiety, but for me, performance chisels away at the layers and opens me up more to strangers. it is ultimately healing and liberating in the end. i would like to do some more spoken-word performing, too. i just don't have that high on the list right now. it seems that performance is a direction i'm headed more and more for, and i've got to get over some of my fears. modeling nude for artists certainly helped me a little bit more with public exposure!
agatha asked me to sign up for a course on tackling anxiety with public speaking at UT. the thought of having to pay $60 or whatever it costs to force myself to speak in front of these people makes me even more nervous. i would rather force myself on stage for free and DO it. the more you do it, the more natural it becomes. part of it is about confidence and believing in yourself and not expecting yourself to be perfect and also having a sense of humor. i think that the people in the audience want to support you. everyone was cheering michelle tea on.
on this last day of vacation, i'm doing nothing.
i slept in as late as possible today. 12:30 by the time i took a shower. 2:30 by the time i came to this coffee house and ordered a double americano. i feel like i never want to move from the chair.
i remember the surprise i had meeting michelle tea, one of my favorite writers on the planet. she comes across as this outspoken, loudmouth on paper. in person, she is actually quite shy and introspective, or at least she was at the book reading. i've since realized that many writers are like that. we aren't loud people. she came into town in 2004 to give a reading from "rose of no man's land" at book woman, the only feminist owned bookstore in the state of texas, and the store was packed that evening, mostly with twenty-something queer girls like myself. it was absolutely positively amazing to see her at the front of the room. e and her then-serious-girlfriend were there with me. but that was before e and i knew each other. i think my friend j was in the crowd as well. we were all there.
michelle was nervous, and read so fast that she did not look up once during her reading. she was standing in the same place where i started reading my poetry at open mics, and fumbled with my words. i understand how disgustingly nervewracking it can be to share pieces of your soul with an audience of strangers staring right at you. when i read a few poems at the first open mic, i thought i was going to be sick, like my heart was about to explode from my chest. and michelle was shaking. i was shaking. i know that when i perform in drag or burlesque later this year, i will probably experience the same nauseating anxiety, but for me, performance chisels away at the layers and opens me up more to strangers. it is ultimately healing and liberating in the end. i would like to do some more spoken-word performing, too. i just don't have that high on the list right now. it seems that performance is a direction i'm headed more and more for, and i've got to get over some of my fears. modeling nude for artists certainly helped me a little bit more with public exposure!
agatha asked me to sign up for a course on tackling anxiety with public speaking at UT. the thought of having to pay $60 or whatever it costs to force myself to speak in front of these people makes me even more nervous. i would rather force myself on stage for free and DO it. the more you do it, the more natural it becomes. part of it is about confidence and believing in yourself and not expecting yourself to be perfect and also having a sense of humor. i think that the people in the audience want to support you. everyone was cheering michelle tea on.
on this last day of vacation, i'm doing nothing.
Sunday, February 1, 2009
poetry.
my favorite barista said that i was in one of his dreams the other night. we were walking around the city. looking for books. i pictured us together on the sidewalk wandering through east side streets, placing found books in our bags. when he dreams of me, he thinks of books. "so when can i get your poetry book?" he asked me then. i'm working on it. girl scout's honor. the hold up is the cover design and submitting the right size word doc. to the print shop. i admit that i also have anxiety about letting go of the work. valentine's day has been the date circled in red on my marilyn monroe calendar, pushed from september to november to february now.
writing is not a mcdonald's hamburger. the cooking is slow, and in the beginning you are not sure whether a roast or a banquet or a lamb chop will be the result. -natalie goldberg
my brain is mush at the moment. overcrowded. overwhelmed. wishing to fast forward time.
writing is not a mcdonald's hamburger. the cooking is slow, and in the beginning you are not sure whether a roast or a banquet or a lamb chop will be the result. -natalie goldberg
my brain is mush at the moment. overcrowded. overwhelmed. wishing to fast forward time.
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