march 14th.

already there is a long line of tourists at the coffee house ordering their coffees to go. it's the beginning of the sxsw invasion. this year the weather is miserable. cold, overcast, and raining off and on. back when i was a waitress i remember the nightmare that sxsw was. "the stills" left me a mountain of canadian coins as their tip and i had so many tables that i practically had to carry two trays. i'm usually crabby anyhow during the sxsw week. traffic worsens, lines are long, and picture thousands of tourists in the city who do not know where they are going. these people are one grand vacation while i have to work -another reason to feel bitter. this week i'd like to catch some free concerts, because there is plenty of wonderful free music to access, and attend gaybigaygay, an afternoon of queer bands on the east side. there will also be bands performing right below my balcony, which is sometimes good and sometimes bad. hours upon hours of death metal is not what i have in mind....

i'm getting my costume ready to partake in the trashy fashion show on march 27th. i'll be dressed in a mini-skirt with a bra decorated and spray painted, and shimmery tights and high heels! it's trashy. my friend T, i think, is performing as a flapper. we are going to have so much fun that night strutting our trashy outfits.

i feel like i have little of interest to report today. the deepest thoughts i think about the universe strangely have a hard time coming out into words, moving from brain waves to letters. mostly i've been contemplating my place in communities. simply because i like to date women automatically places me in this "queer community" and i'm not so certain how involved i want to be. i like to have friends in a wide range of circles. i think it's important not to become insular. people are people. what is it to be human? who are we beyond labels? how are we the same? how are we different? i told elle that i was having a "femme identity crisis" because i don't feel that comfortable taking on a label. i may be a "femme" one day and i may like to be someone else the next. who i am is continually shifting and evolving. it's hard to ever pin me down. we talked about how it is useful to have forums such as the femme mafia because it can create connections and dialogue that otherwise would not exist, but that she understands where i'm coming from. she identifies most as queer. i don't know if i even identify strongly with being queer. there is this part of me that resists labels at all. when we went out together one evening, i wore a tie.

have you heard about the high school student in indiana who is suing her high school because they will not allow her to wear a tux to her prom? indiana is obviously in the dark ages. the news story is here. i wish i had worn a tux to my prom instead of that stupid dress my mother wanted to place me in. that girl has every right to wear a suit and tie to her prom, and it's hot. one would think that those people would be more concerned about the girls wearing super trampy dresses.

when i was 16 in 1996, i agreed to go to the prom with this boy named patrick. we weren't dating, but he was interested in dating me, and i felt more comfortable about the situation because we were meeting a large group of couples for dinner before the prom. my mother chose my dress, a white, conservative-like dress, and had my hair professionally styled into a french twist at a salon, pinned with flowers and baby's breath. there was so much efing hairspray that it was more like a beehive, taking on a life of its own. patrick came to the house to get me- dressed in a black tux. he was tall, skinny, and had this very catholic roman nose and glasses. (he would later attend college in chicago and be hit by the mirror on a passing bus in the street because he was that clumsy). we had dinner with the other couples at an upscale cafe in austin that no longer exists. i'll never forget how he ordered onions and i had to suffer through onion breath for the rest of the night.

we packed into his friend's mother's minivan and drove to the hotel where the prom was held at. it made me want to puke seeing all of the lovey dovey couples, and i remember seriously being aware that i was completely and utterly gay and swimming in a sea of seemingly straight teenagers. my friend V looked hot in her tight dress. i felt the need to somehow act like i could be straight with patrick and shove aside these intense feelings. they were powerful, and i felt powerless over them. the rest of the night involved standing around watching other couples dance and posing for pictures. we had to sit through the award ceremony while the "king" and "queen" were crowned. it was like some twisted popularity contest. afterwards we all had dessert around 1 a.m. at kerbey lane cafe, and patrick took me home. the drive home when it was just the two of us is what i dreaded the most. i had a feeling he expected something from me, and i felt somehow guilty that i was not interested in "putting out." there was awkwardness when he insisted on walking me up to the front door to say goodnight. i remember him standing there, expectant, waiting for.. a kiss?..while i thanked him and shut the door behind and locked it. i went to my bedroom, practically tore off my dress, pulled out the pins from my beehive, and was oh so grateful that the prom night was over and done with forever. there was such a divide in my world then between what was expected of me and what i desired.

i'm still trying to get closest to living according to my heart. today i miss j and i miss e and i miss my old life when i was a paid writer for a living. it's hard not to rewind and reminisce.