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.