good times at the good knight.

i have to tell you about last night on the date with my gay boyfriend. he picked me up and took me to a bar to have a cocktail together. we sat down at a table in the middle of the room. he was drinking his "old fashioned" and i was drinking my "grasshopper" and he was telling me about the boy he fucked on monday night and i was discretely checking out a woman at the table next to us when an older man interrupted our conversation. "i have to tell you," he said, towering over us. "the two of you are PERFECT for each other! just perfect!" my gay boyfriend and i both tried hard not to laugh. "you two are one of the most adorable couples i've seen in a long time and you are going to have BEAUTIFUL babies together!" he went on and on about our adorableness as a couple, and when he left, we both burst out laughing until i cried and the woman i had been eyeing started eyeing me and my gay boyfriend noticed and said, "i think she was checking you out." but she was with a woman who seemed to be with her, and hell, she probably thought he was with me. the next time we go out, we are going to have to invest in some t-shirts that read "we're not together" or "i'm not straight" or "he's into boys" and "she's into girls" to clear up ANY confusion. when he goes to gay bars with me, even the lesbian bartenders have thought we're together. if he were straight, and if i wanted to be in a relationship with a man, we would make an interesting couple. i think we look a lot like the parents when they were young from the "back to the future" movie.

some minor setbacks with the poetry book. the jpg size for the cover has to be re-sized for the printing specifications and i had to place a hold on the book over the weekend until agatha can send it back to me. or else people would order the book and the cover would be partially cut off! how tragic. i will have it officially out on the interwebs by monday. after that i need to find out how to make the book available on amazon dot com, take copies to bookstores, and send a promo piece to the "austin chronicle." more work than i want to do for a little book of poetry. the perks about being picked up by a major publishing company are that you never have to deal with the cover design, the printing, or the marketing, but the perks about self publishing are that you have complete creative control and freedom. looking back on the experience, i would have liked to have included some images of my poetry written on napkins or paper with cool ink, and included more visual art in the book, such as drawings and paintings. i guess i can do that in my next book of poetry. this book has black and white snapshots of the city woven throughout the text.

some other art news. it looks like my vision of having an art show with several awesome artists i love has a strong chance of being manifested in the real world. the one i approached is very interested and speaking with her two friends who will probably also be interested in this, she said. if signs point to YES, it would be an all-woman panel of 4, twenty- and thirty-something, feminist, queer painters. i'm the dilettante in the mix. like i've written before, i'm good at starting new projects and bad at completing them. i need someone to handle the nitty gritty details of my life while i concentrate on, you know, making the art. i wish i had someone to figure out where to have the show, how we would finance the libations and d.j., how we would publicize the show, etc. but it would be memorable to put on a huge, grand production with a beautiful blend of minds and talent. so. out with the poetry book and on with the paintings, is it?

until next time, have a wonderful weekend.

summertime begins.

whenever i see my friend agatha, which is no more than once a month, conversation with her always feels cathartic. we drank pints of hefeweizen at the coffee house down the street watching the sun set and the steady flow of cars and bicycles and scooters. the sky looked like an oil painting. pinks and purples streaked across clouds. the temperature was a perfect 75 degrees. whenever we meet up, we usually talk and drink for hours, catching up on the lost time, and i usually watch her smoke cigarettes classically across the table. cigarettes go so well with beer, and with coffee. i've been watching friends and strangers smoke cigarettes for the last six months now that i'm a non-smoker. "how do you do it?" i'm asked. "how do you not cave in ever?" usually i don't like to answer that question while someone is holding a glowing cigarette in mid air. for me, the temptation and the desire is probably always going to exist (i would be smoking like a sailor if cigarettes weren't harmful), but the choice behind why i do not want to light up is not hard for me. i think about my grandmother who died of lung cancer several years ago; i think about the phone calls i've had with people who were dying of stage 4 cancer because they smoked cigarettes for years back when i worked at the gawdawful american cancer society; i think about what smoking cigarettes on a regular basis does to your body over time. i could elaborate on the black lung visuals that come to mind. a cigarette here and there is not going to kill you, but smoking cigarettes for years can. plus, i've come to this place where i'm not living my reckless twenties and feel more conscientious about taking care of myself. inching closer to 30 has that affect on me. she gave me the final book files, and as soon as i upload them to the publishers on the computer, ta da, the book is available for order. i can't believe that 3 years of my life boil down to the contents of this book. and oh- how could i forget. this book is published to protest the laws that discriminate against glbt people in our nation, such as prop. 8 in california. the timing is eeriely dead on with the major protests and demonstrations happening. i didn't plan it like this at all. it organically happened.

heartbreaks and healing.

traffic is so heavy with it being memorial day that i could have driven to san antonio faster than the time it took me to drive south of the bridge for breakfast and back. seriously. i viewed the sickening long line of people at bouldin creek, torchy's tacos, and several other places, crowds of people congregating under the hot sun, and had to settle on thai food takeout, spending more $ than i intended. i should have just stayed home and cooked an omelette.

my housemate, alicia, returned from vacation early this morning. it was lonely at night when she was away. the flipside is i'm not used to sharing a living space with someone at all. i'm used to being able to come home and retreat from the rest of the world, not having to converse with anyone, and now i find myself retreating to a coffee house or going out for a walk through the neighborhood to tap into that solitude i once always had in my home. i'm cooking dinner for the two of us one night this week- a first roommate dinner in the house to celebrate moving in.

my bedroom is looking more and more like a real room. there are still boxes in need of being unpacked, and the trunk of my car is filled with suitcases i don't know where i will store. i need to hang pictures and decorate and strew candles about. we are in that interim state between "moved in" and "settled in." who knows how long it will take before we feel we are settled. mischa seems happy at least and hangs out most afternoons on alicia's couch while her cat sleeps on mine. (ironic).

i'm meeting agatha in person to make the poetry book official before i send it to print. the book release has struck a deeper chord for me than most people realize, leading to scenes like tearing up in public with p. in a diner, and crying in the car to sappy love songs on magic 95.5 that remind me of my friend j. i went on some 'shopping therapy' to buffalo exchange to somehow fill the emotional black hole. when i look better, i feel better.

i've resolved to still mail her a copy of the book with a personal dedication (not a public one), and doing so leaves me in a vulnerable position. p. said it so well the other day: "maybe there is grieving and healing that needs to take places with the ending of that relationship." i think that the act of mailing her the book is my own ritual of letting go, of moving forward, of placing that era somewhere else. part of me is aware that now she is not really worthy of my friendship after how she has acted this past year, and that i deserve someone who treats me well and respects me. but for about two years of life when the bulk of this poetry was written, she was my bestest friend and the catalyst in my realization that i needed to be more committed to self-LOVE before loving someone else. i needed to stop the self-ABUSE through being around certain people who did not honor me. (prior to that time, i never recognized that as abuse).

she was that woman who held up a mirror and told me how amazing and phenomenal she thought i was and i began to listen for the first time. i began to take myself seriously as a poet, as an artist, as a voice, as a woman. it is said that you have found yourself when you find people who can see you. j saw me, not that my other friends did not see me; it was more that she was able to get me to see myself in a higher light, to realize who i am. i think it's important to hear that from someone else from time to time, and to fully realize your value and worth as a person. there is nothing selfish about valuing and loving who you are. it is essential. like breathing. now, i'm being forced to practice her very advice - with her. she moved out of state, severed ties with various people, and is no longer interested in continuing a friendship. i could just never send the book and go on my merry way, but somehow, in order to complete the circle of love and loss, i want to send the book to her. there was a hell of a lot more to our friendship.

i resent that i can be so sentimental, clinging, and unable to let go of relationships that fall apart. i'm searching for a path to make peace with the end of this relationship and to have a heart that is healed once again.

memorial day weekend.

it rained for the better part of the day and i had to work overtime hours and i received a scary looking letter in the mail that i've been selected for jury duty. i was completely unproductive at work and listened to jose gonzalez's song "heartbeats" on repeat. one of the most beautiful songs. no one else was in the office. no real work actually got done, and i don't know how to explain the large chunk of lost time. it just... happened.

i viewed the inside layout of the book and submitted the edits to agatha tonight; it should be good to send out for publishing tomorrow or monday! it was an amazing experience to see the poems in real book format. heart, soul, and 3 years of my life have been channeled into this one paperback book, and it's opened some old wounds as i reflect on the people who have touched my past. i can't believe i'm sitting here staring off into night time space thinking, "what next?" next i think is writing my memoir/novel, the one i've forever been procrastinating on completing, and making enough paintings to put on an art show with other artists somewhere in a public space. thinking: lots of art, people, and wine.

a couple of years ago, i was invited by e. to see an art show that two of her friends were having at a gallery where i later modeled nude for the man who owned it (ha). i believe it was called "the red slip project." the photographer had photographed many different people wearing the red slip, and the painter had a collection of her brilliant paintings upstairs. i remember being blown away by talent. i definitely feel the desire to become more active in the artist community. i've been hiding out in the shadows for a long time talking about creating but not creating seriously in the open.

enough talk of art. my house is a bit of a mess and i'm exhausted. good night....

yesterday a woman blatantly came onto me- the attention was flattering but not reciprocal on my side. how does one communicate "you're just not my type" without deflating another's ego? because she was so brutally direct, i was direct with my answer, and she slinked away, a hint of woundedness in her voice. i was at the grocery store near my office this afternoon- i had gone in on a mission to find the saltiest, greasiest potato chips to fulfill my p.m.s. cravings, and the effing organic store did not carry any of such, giving me no choice but to select the salt and vinegar, low fat, air-puffed potato chips (tasteless)- and standing in the checkout line was a woman who literally made me almost lose my potato chips. she looked like ani difranco. i'm not exaggerating. the resemblance was uncanny. she was so cute and exuded this amazing ENRG and i thought to myself, "yes!" sadly, there was no way i could strike up conversation with this ani d. twin (and what would i even say?). she was ahead of me in line and walked out, disappearing into the parking lot, and i was left with my fantasies and the $3.00 bag of potato chips i could not stomach to eat.

mercury or lead tomatoes anyone?

i had these grand gardening plans to plant an elaborate vegetable and herb garden in our backyard. that beautiful vision came crashing down when my sister, the real estate lawyer, mentioned that i might want to have the level of lead in the soil checked before doing so. because this is such an old house (circa 1930ish) and had lead paint on the outside of the house at one time, it would have leaked into the soil and most likely is still present. she said that she often handles cases with old houses where she reviews the level of lead reported in the soil. there's nothing like growing organic lead vegetables, is there? she said that i might be able to have the city check the soil for free. i'm thinking that we could consider planting a raised bed in the far part of the backyard, or have potted vegetables and herbs on a patch. no lead soil, of course! growing in lead soil would sorta defeat the purpose of having a vegetable garden. i wonder if other avid gardeners out there know about checking the soil for lead concentration. i love our old house, but dammit, my garden plans are thrown off track. i can still proceed with planting the flowers and bushes since we won't be eating those.

in true texas tradition it has been raining in a torrential downpour this whole day, and the driveway has been transformed into a serious pathway of mud. i had to get out my high doc marten boots and the umbrella to reach my car. the backseat is still filled with some boxes i haven't had the energy to bring into the house, and i still have to organize my bedroom this weekend. oh-my housemate has left for a week-long vacation leaving me alone with the house and the two cats. i dig this solitude. i've caught up on sleep, done some cooking and entertaining to candles, and have actually had the chance to read books for fun. i'm reading a memoir by anne lamott and a book on ancient spiritiual wisdom to live by called "the four agreements." what i've found most useful is the part on how our words are the power we have to create. you can create beauty, love, and 'heaven' with your words or you can destroy everything and create hell. our words are pure magic, or our words are black magic. i'm fascinated with musicians, poets, writers, and motivational speakers because of their power and influence on the world with words.

my brother, his girlfriend, and my sister are in town for the weekend. i had them over last night for wine, french bread, and cheeses, and that has been it as far as the excitement goes for now.

sneak preview

agatha still needs to add my name to the front cover of the book, but i thought i would give you a sneak preview of her design. you've been listening to me ramble on about this project for months and deserve a visual image. i'm hoping to send the pdf to the publishing place this next week.

good morning.

today i woke up in our new house, feeling refreshed after eleven hours of deep and peaceful sleep, the sunlight greeting me through the living room shades. i got mexican food for a big lunch at el chile down the street. people sat outside at tables drinking oversized margarita glasses, and the smells of cinnamon, chiles, and cilantro stopped me to drink in the ambience. there is this quote i heard that resonates with me: "the greatest voyages of discovery are made not with seeing new landscapes but with having new eyes." i don't need to leave the city to experience a changed perspective. our neighborhood has the mexican restaurant, a hipster coffee house, and streets of old houses filled with college students, married couples, and young people living together, railroad tracks cutting down the center of it. being in a house is already changing my outlook. i feel more grounded. we live right next to a quiet, trickling creek and one house from the railroad tracks. nestled behind us are two duplexes, and we share the same gravel driveway. some of my good friends live in this neighborhood. we sit in each other's houses and talk and drink. is it a surprise, i wonder, that i love drinking? i remember being that girl who would have half a beer at parties in college, the perpetual designated driver, the one who hated the feeling of life becoming foggy and ambiguous. years later, i've acquired a great love for wine, beer, and whisky. p commented the other day that i must like "everything being foggier." maybe. she met me yesterday evening for the photoshoot in front of a victorian brick building, with a chain fence and graffiti and an alley way to play around with. i selected her to take my photo for the poetry book because a) i wanted it to involve local women artists and b) i feel comfortable and at ease around her. word of advice is to never model for a photographer you do not feel chemistry with because chances are the photos will not reflect the true you. i did that once some time ago, and was not happy with the photos. i had a hard time determining what to wear for this shoot, and settled on a blue jeans, tank top, and puma sneakers look. nothing formal or dressy. i think agatha is finalizing the layout this week, and then the book will be published! the book has been 'my baby' for several years, and the novel is like 'my marriage.' i have to wonder when i will meet my real significant other, outside of the world of books. i've shifted my thinking from "if" to "when" it will happen. i will fall in love and probably get married and probably have a child one day. on friday, i went to see a woman i used to date perform. she is now the lead celloist in a band. i sat down near the front of the stage and watched her play. the music and the movement of her fingers across strings under bright lights made my past flash before my eyes. she had no idea, did she, that i had come out just to see her, and surely no one in that audience knew about the history i had with her. for about 3 years she and i have not spoken that much and i was determined to reconnect. after she got off the stage, i tapped her shoulder, she turned around, and we spent the next two hours immersed in conversation. she lives in a house with her girlfriend now. we are going to start hanging out again. the eerie fact i learned is that her birthday is the same day as my ex-girlfriend's. june 7th. i don't know what it is about people born on that day, but we are drawn to each other for some reason. after 2 a.m., she lugged out her cello from the club and walked me to my car parked eight blocks down the street. i rolled home around 3 and crashed on the couch.

hello my friends and lurkers:

thank you for still reading. i'm alive and writing, albeit finding my way through a state of chaos, which is what the month of may is going to probably be. we moved into the house this weekend, and the amount of work carved out feels neverending. i've been sleeping on the couch in the living room because my bedroom is cluttered with boxes and trash bags. i forget where i placed the bed sheets and my socks. last night i carried the last box into the house after spending midnight to 3 a.m. cleaning the apartment, feeling like a mad woman scrubbing pumpkin pie stains off of the inside of the oven from that pie i had baked in november for the autumn party (?) by the time i drove to the house and unloaded the car, tip-toeing through the dark grass, it was 4 in the morning and i had to wake at 6:45 to get going to the office. so much has gone awry that it's been no surprise to discover that mercury is retrograde.

here goes. *alicia's grandmother had a sudden anneurism the night before the move in day and she had to get a quick flight back home to be with her family. *i drove out to her apartment in north austin to feed her cat since she was away and the door to her apartment would not lock on the way out. i tried for 15 minutes and nothing would give. it was broken. *our landlord fell sick with the flu on move in day and could not give me the house key personally so i had to have copies made from her maintenance man and get a signed money order check to her office in the middle of rush hour lunch traffic. *then i had great trouble finding her office. *my dad went over to my apartment building to let the carpet cleaners in and my security pass would not allow him access - turns out it was suddenly broken. i had to contact the main office while i was out at lunch and did not have the phone number, which led to me randomly calling friends to see who could look up the number on the internet. *$90 later the carpet cleaners could not remove the major tea stain in the living room and i had to attempt to remove it with bleach. my dad and i got into a small argument because he criticized the rest of my apartment and i was upset that he was getting into my business. *while moving in, the front porch light and bathroom lights suddenly went out, and i had to move in box after box in the dark. *we had the maintenance man come out to fix the lights this evening, and after he left, a fuse blew out half of our electricity, including the air conditioning window units on this sweltering, humid, 95-degree day. i was able to tinker around with the fuse box, luckily, and turn the electricity back on.

i'm so looking forward to a hot shower and a full night of sleep. photos coming.