(this is one just for fun. procrastination can breed such things)
1. go to every club, knitting circle, potluck, performance art happening, and slam poetry event you can find wearing a sandwich board that states, “free toaster.”
2. shave your head. the quarter-inch attachment is the most lesbionic. alternate action: change your hair color with henna or one of the mainstay manic-panic colors: bad-boy blue, hot hot pink, green envy, or red passion.
3. cut your nails. complain about how you have to keep your nails sooooo short now. loudly and often. even better, cut just the nails on your forefinger and middle finger (or middle finger and ring finger, if you’re like that) on your dominant hand. use this hand conspicuously: show off your cell phone, pull on your dykey stud or small-hoop earrings, point at your brand new copy of dykes to watch out for, etc. extra points if you put your nail clippers on your keychain or the zipper of your sufficiently sensible shoulder bag/backpack.
4. learn and actively participate in more than one of the following activities: softball; basketball; rugby; playing the drums or a brass instrument other than french horn; a martial art; cigar smoking; open mic nights (preferably at your local wymmyn’s bookstore or lesbian bar); camping; woodwork/carpentry; composting; and suddenly announcing disgust at the misogyny, homophobia, racism, etc. at awkward or inopportune times, the more awkward the better (points if these awkward moments include your birth relatives).
5. learn the lyrics to “both hands,” “closer to fine,” “ice cream,” “iowa,” “i kissed a girl (sobule version),” “i spent my last $10 (on birth control and beer),” “drag king bar,” or any major song by melissa ethridge, k.d. lang, meshell ndégeocello, le tigre, or tracy chapman.
6. stock your tea cabinet with at least seven different types of tea with at least one black, one green, and one herbal tea.
7. read one of the many canonic lesbian books (rubyfruit jungle, zami, tipping the velvet, written on the body/oranges are not the only fruit, stone butch blues, mrs. dalloway/orlando, etc.) and post on every social networking site you belong to how much you “loved” it and how it “opened your eyes” and how much you “identified” with it.
8. if you are a meat-eater, become vegetarian. if you vegetarian, become vegan. if you are vegan, become macrobiotic. if you are macrobiotic, eat meat again, but in a sexy, enlightened way. openly discuss all your food allergies. if you have none, make them up. "i'm allergic to water!" consume more legumes and whole grains. buy the moosewood cookbook. actually cook with the moosewood cookbook.
9. watch lots of fag porn, with fags and dykes (pot luck time! don’t forget your sandwich board!). balance your fascination and disgust. claim you own a dildo bigger than the biggest dick in the porn. vocally revel in how hot fag porn is. then complain loudly about how you can’t find dyke porn like this. or announce that you’ve seen “crash pad” and think it’s the beginning of a renaissance of dyke porn. loiter near an empty bedroom or the bathroom.
10. find a girl you like, romance her or entice her to romance you, kiss her, sleep with her, call uhaul. repeat.
Showing posts with label crazy miscellany. Show all posts
Showing posts with label crazy miscellany. Show all posts
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Thursday, October 30, 2008
on things lovely partner wants me to blog
we do this on a fairly regular basis: one of us says something hilarious/witty/profound and the other immediately says: you should blog that!
here's one of them.
we were discussing the 50 state quarters that have finally all been released by the u.s. mint. and here are our favorites:
kt's caption: "breaking news: space shuttles go back in time!"
kt's caption: "breaking news: saarinen design go back in time!"
here's one of them.
we were discussing the 50 state quarters that have finally all been released by the u.s. mint. and here are our favorites:
kt's caption: "breaking news: space shuttles go back in time!"
kt's caption: "breaking news: saarinen design go back in time!"
on obama
i voted yesterday. for obama, of course. it's interesting, i've always thought voting for a presidential election in texas was futile, but recent polls have put texas in the "tossup" column in some cases, which is-like-CRAZY! anyway, as with many folks i know, i've been a presidential news junkie these last few days. time magazine ran a photo story on obama. this photo really made me a little weepy.
maybe part of my sensitivity to this photo has to do with a dream i had last night that involved all the little boys of color in our neighborhood becoming our friends. one of them was a piano prodigy, one of them played violin, but was also a dj. one of them was a poet. the boys in our neighborhood are real. their abilities may just be my imagination. in the dream, i was negotiating with lovely partner on how to make our piano available to the prodigy. and then he came by the house and asked me what i meant on my blog when i said *something i don't remember here.* somehow this pic really spoke to me, tho'.
maybe part of my sensitivity to this photo has to do with a dream i had last night that involved all the little boys of color in our neighborhood becoming our friends. one of them was a piano prodigy, one of them played violin, but was also a dj. one of them was a poet. the boys in our neighborhood are real. their abilities may just be my imagination. in the dream, i was negotiating with lovely partner on how to make our piano available to the prodigy. and then he came by the house and asked me what i meant on my blog when i said *something i don't remember here.* somehow this pic really spoke to me, tho'.
Thursday, October 23, 2008
on voting
okay, kids. this one should be a no-brainer, but just in case, if you live in the following states, please be sure to vote NO:
Proposition 8 in California
Proposition 2 in Florida
Proposition 102 in Arizona
Unmarried Couple Ban in Arkansas
UPDATE: Question 1 in Connecticut
again, the point is to vote NO. as in: N-dot-O. unless you hate the gays. and if you hate the gays, please go away.
Proposition 8 in California
Proposition 2 in Florida
Proposition 102 in Arizona
Unmarried Couple Ban in Arkansas
UPDATE: Question 1 in Connecticut
again, the point is to vote NO. as in: N-dot-O. unless you hate the gays. and if you hate the gays, please go away.
Thursday, September 25, 2008
UPDATE on incompetence
sprint just called me to say they will be refunding me for the crazy international roaming bill. thanks harold! have a good vacation!
why does it take several competent people to fix one person's incompetence?
ah, well. that's $600 bucks i'm happy not to lose!
why does it take several competent people to fix one person's incompetence?
ah, well. that's $600 bucks i'm happy not to lose!
on why incompetence is the social blight of america
please indulge me. i must vent on the serious incompetence that has plagued me recently in my creative life. they are two tales that converge in the physical location we know as vancouver. but they belie the evilness that a combination of technology and incompetence can manifest on a poor, struggling artist.
the first instance of incompetence happened surrounding my lodging in vancouver. as you know, i ended up staying at a lovely furnished apartment run by a local b&b. it was everything i needed, and i loved the fact that i was supporting a local business woman who says things like, "okee" and "eh." but before i found those lovely grand manor accommodations, i had booked a room at holiday inn north vancouver through continental.com. i did this because i was on a frequent flier mileage kick, and wanted to accrue miles. the holiday inn was very close to my workshop (walking distance, actually). i had booked the room online, thinking i had just made a reservation. it was way over my budget, though. i thought this was okay because i mistakenly thought that a friend of mine was going to share the room with me. after he clarified that he had made other (much cheaper) arrangements, i set to find cheaper arrangements myself. i noticed that holiday inn had already charged me for my room. which was upsetting. so i called the hotel to ask them about whether i could cancel. the undoubtedly bright-eyed young woman who answered my call said, "our cancellation policy is 24hrs notice." "really?" i said, "but you've already charged me!" "our records don't indicate that," she said. but when i pushed her to look for it, she finally found that info "on another computer screen." okay. so i asked, "is the cancellation policy the same?" and she said, "yes. 24 hrs notice."
cool. so i went about searching for cheaper accommodations. and i found them at the above-mentioned lovely b&b apartment. i paid for the apartment up front knowing that's how local businesses work. then i called back holiday inn. this time, i got a manager. "i'm calling to cancel my reservation," i said. she pulled up my info and then said, "this is a pre-paid reservation. you cannot cancel it."
what transpired after that was a series of phone calls (all on my bill, incidentally) where i was basically yelling at this manager. i told her the situation and she pressed me for details. do i remember who the woman was who i spoke to? no. there is no record that i called in the system. you mean you're expecting someone who is oblivious to policies to follow the one saying that they need to make a note for every phone call made?! the manager was reasonable but firm. finally i had to mention that this event would "permanently affect my impression of holiday inns and very probably discourage me from staying at them ever again." she started to budge. first she tried to charge me for the first night. i said, "no, that was not the arrangement the woman told me. this is a lot of money for me, almost a month's salary."
when she finally agreed to give me all my money back. yay! i thought. when i checked later, i found that holiday inn had refunded me twice and was now trying to get a hold of me. i also noticed that due to the ups and downs of the canadian dollar, my refund (both of them) was actually roughly $50 less in u.s. dollars than the original charge. after holiday inn recharged me for the second refund--guess what?! the u.s. dollar was weaker on that day, too!--i was in the hole close to $100 bucks just because of exchange rates. i've considered tracking down holiday inn for those charges as well as the roughly $10 worth of international phone calls i've been making. but i am just plain too tired. $110 in the hole is better than $1700, right?
the second instance of incompetence finally reached my door today.
before i went to vancouver, i called up sprint to inquire about phone coverage and policies for me while i was in canada. the woman i talked to said, "well, that would be in a roaming area, but your phone plan includes roaming." i was surprised. i said, "so i can make calls in vancouver just the same as everywhere else?" "yep."
so i was stoked. i called kim every night for an hour or so, thinking it was just like using my regular minutes. nervous, i logged into my sprint account while i was away and it didn't show any extra charges.
or so i thought. my $650 phone bill that arrived this morning proved that i was right to be surprised at the customer service woman's claim. she must not have known that canada is actually another country and therefore part of "international roaming" that charges a hefty $0.59/minute. had i known that would be the charge, kim and i would have probably only used about 30 roaming minutes and communicated the rest of the time on facebook instant messaging. i mean. i'm not that stupid!
so i called customer service today. the first person i talked to said, "lemme check your record. if there is no note on it, i can't refund the money." again. people who seem to want to rely on misinformed people to suddenly do everything by the book! i told her, "are you telling me that if this person didn't write something on the account, you can't refund me? don't you record these conversations for quality assurance?" she sighed and put me on hold several times. then she said, "i have to transfer you to international roaming." i stopped her, said, "what's your name?" "amy." "so, if i get cut off and call back again asking for amy, i can talk to you again?" "no." "well, i don't want to have to keep calling back over and over saying the same story over and over." she sighed again and then agreed to stay on the line in a conference call until i got the right person. she did. and of course, she first transferred me to the wrong department, which i totally wouldn't have known if she didn't stay on the line. when i finally did get to international roaming, she unceremoniously hung up without letting me know. i was lucky that the person i got next was very sympathetic. he looked up all the records and saw that someone had put a roaming note on my account. but then he said, "this is way higher than i'm authorized to refund you. i have to send a memo to the finance department." and then he told me he was about to go on vacation until 10/2. i got all of his information and the number of the memo. and he seemed to be putting every single thing about the case into this memo. he said that he would keep an eye out for my case today, but if he can't contact me "someone" will contact me within the next couple days. i'm nervous, but that's the best i can do for now.
i looked at my phone when i hung up and saw that i spent 50 minutes on that call.
let's say that they refund me for the roaming charges. let's hope and pray that justice exists in the world. even then, i'm still in the hole.
for my day job, tutoring, i charge $40/hour, when i tutor through an agency, i make $26/hr. i've spent 50 minutes on the phone with sprint and probably roughly the same on the phone with holiday inn. that's 100 minutes. let's call it 90 minutes for easy math.
$110 for the exchange rate discrepancy and international phone calls+$60 for my time=$170.
all thanks to incompetence!
what would i have to do to make that money back?
1. tutor for 5 -7 hours
2. sell roughly 30 used books on half.com
3. write an application for any myriad of grants that expect you to spend hours just to get piddly.
4. produce a performance at the off center, charge $15/seat and get at least 50 audience members, and not pay the actors (but i would have to pay to rent a lighting board, pay a lighting designer, and pay a board operator--these are things that rarely come for free)
what could i have bought with that money instead?
1. website hosting and domain name for four years
2. use of the off center for one night
3. a very nice evening of food at conversation the dai due supper club (not including wine).
4. a months worth of health insurance premium (on the cheap end. no i'm not currently insured).
5. Mac OS 10.5, leopard for my household
those would have been nice things to have. but instead, i have relinquished my precious resources to the incompetence demons.
A POX ON THE DEMONS OF INCOMPETENCE! BE GONE, BE GONE!
I HATE INCOMPETENCE!
the first instance of incompetence happened surrounding my lodging in vancouver. as you know, i ended up staying at a lovely furnished apartment run by a local b&b. it was everything i needed, and i loved the fact that i was supporting a local business woman who says things like, "okee" and "eh." but before i found those lovely grand manor accommodations, i had booked a room at holiday inn north vancouver through continental.com. i did this because i was on a frequent flier mileage kick, and wanted to accrue miles. the holiday inn was very close to my workshop (walking distance, actually). i had booked the room online, thinking i had just made a reservation. it was way over my budget, though. i thought this was okay because i mistakenly thought that a friend of mine was going to share the room with me. after he clarified that he had made other (much cheaper) arrangements, i set to find cheaper arrangements myself. i noticed that holiday inn had already charged me for my room. which was upsetting. so i called the hotel to ask them about whether i could cancel. the undoubtedly bright-eyed young woman who answered my call said, "our cancellation policy is 24hrs notice." "really?" i said, "but you've already charged me!" "our records don't indicate that," she said. but when i pushed her to look for it, she finally found that info "on another computer screen." okay. so i asked, "is the cancellation policy the same?" and she said, "yes. 24 hrs notice."
cool. so i went about searching for cheaper accommodations. and i found them at the above-mentioned lovely b&b apartment. i paid for the apartment up front knowing that's how local businesses work. then i called back holiday inn. this time, i got a manager. "i'm calling to cancel my reservation," i said. she pulled up my info and then said, "this is a pre-paid reservation. you cannot cancel it."
what transpired after that was a series of phone calls (all on my bill, incidentally) where i was basically yelling at this manager. i told her the situation and she pressed me for details. do i remember who the woman was who i spoke to? no. there is no record that i called in the system. you mean you're expecting someone who is oblivious to policies to follow the one saying that they need to make a note for every phone call made?! the manager was reasonable but firm. finally i had to mention that this event would "permanently affect my impression of holiday inns and very probably discourage me from staying at them ever again." she started to budge. first she tried to charge me for the first night. i said, "no, that was not the arrangement the woman told me. this is a lot of money for me, almost a month's salary."
when she finally agreed to give me all my money back. yay! i thought. when i checked later, i found that holiday inn had refunded me twice and was now trying to get a hold of me. i also noticed that due to the ups and downs of the canadian dollar, my refund (both of them) was actually roughly $50 less in u.s. dollars than the original charge. after holiday inn recharged me for the second refund--guess what?! the u.s. dollar was weaker on that day, too!--i was in the hole close to $100 bucks just because of exchange rates. i've considered tracking down holiday inn for those charges as well as the roughly $10 worth of international phone calls i've been making. but i am just plain too tired. $110 in the hole is better than $1700, right?
the second instance of incompetence finally reached my door today.
before i went to vancouver, i called up sprint to inquire about phone coverage and policies for me while i was in canada. the woman i talked to said, "well, that would be in a roaming area, but your phone plan includes roaming." i was surprised. i said, "so i can make calls in vancouver just the same as everywhere else?" "yep."
so i was stoked. i called kim every night for an hour or so, thinking it was just like using my regular minutes. nervous, i logged into my sprint account while i was away and it didn't show any extra charges.
or so i thought. my $650 phone bill that arrived this morning proved that i was right to be surprised at the customer service woman's claim. she must not have known that canada is actually another country and therefore part of "international roaming" that charges a hefty $0.59/minute. had i known that would be the charge, kim and i would have probably only used about 30 roaming minutes and communicated the rest of the time on facebook instant messaging. i mean. i'm not that stupid!
so i called customer service today. the first person i talked to said, "lemme check your record. if there is no note on it, i can't refund the money." again. people who seem to want to rely on misinformed people to suddenly do everything by the book! i told her, "are you telling me that if this person didn't write something on the account, you can't refund me? don't you record these conversations for quality assurance?" she sighed and put me on hold several times. then she said, "i have to transfer you to international roaming." i stopped her, said, "what's your name?" "amy." "so, if i get cut off and call back again asking for amy, i can talk to you again?" "no." "well, i don't want to have to keep calling back over and over saying the same story over and over." she sighed again and then agreed to stay on the line in a conference call until i got the right person. she did. and of course, she first transferred me to the wrong department, which i totally wouldn't have known if she didn't stay on the line. when i finally did get to international roaming, she unceremoniously hung up without letting me know. i was lucky that the person i got next was very sympathetic. he looked up all the records and saw that someone had put a roaming note on my account. but then he said, "this is way higher than i'm authorized to refund you. i have to send a memo to the finance department." and then he told me he was about to go on vacation until 10/2. i got all of his information and the number of the memo. and he seemed to be putting every single thing about the case into this memo. he said that he would keep an eye out for my case today, but if he can't contact me "someone" will contact me within the next couple days. i'm nervous, but that's the best i can do for now.
i looked at my phone when i hung up and saw that i spent 50 minutes on that call.
let's say that they refund me for the roaming charges. let's hope and pray that justice exists in the world. even then, i'm still in the hole.
for my day job, tutoring, i charge $40/hour, when i tutor through an agency, i make $26/hr. i've spent 50 minutes on the phone with sprint and probably roughly the same on the phone with holiday inn. that's 100 minutes. let's call it 90 minutes for easy math.
$110 for the exchange rate discrepancy and international phone calls+$60 for my time=$170.
all thanks to incompetence!
what would i have to do to make that money back?
1. tutor for 5 -7 hours
2. sell roughly 30 used books on half.com
3. write an application for any myriad of grants that expect you to spend hours just to get piddly.
4. produce a performance at the off center, charge $15/seat and get at least 50 audience members, and not pay the actors (but i would have to pay to rent a lighting board, pay a lighting designer, and pay a board operator--these are things that rarely come for free)
what could i have bought with that money instead?
1. website hosting and domain name for four years
2. use of the off center for one night
3. a very nice evening of food at conversation the dai due supper club (not including wine).
4. a months worth of health insurance premium (on the cheap end. no i'm not currently insured).
5. Mac OS 10.5, leopard for my household
those would have been nice things to have. but instead, i have relinquished my precious resources to the incompetence demons.
A POX ON THE DEMONS OF INCOMPETENCE! BE GONE, BE GONE!
I HATE INCOMPETENCE!
Sunday, April 6, 2008
on return
fuckitall. i've been sick for the past five days, literally spewing my guts from every orifice, appreciating just how disgusting and amazing the human body can be in one fell swoop. i spent one night cradling a bucket while cleaning my own waste off my bathroom floor. then crying while i puked and exclaiming: oh god, how gross! i feel so much better!
again and again and again.
of course, being an artist with a certain liking for the absurd and scatalogical humor, there was one moment as i moaned and knelt on all fours over that bucket that i thought, "jesus. this is so painful and humiliating! this is so fucking hilarious!"
and, shit, it really was. i mean, c'mon! bucket? rolling around on the floor in your skivvies! running from your car to the bathroom sweating so hard because you're afraid you'll shit your pants? things can't get much funnier than shit and puke.
except when you're in it. even then.
i'm finally feeling better now. today is the first day in four that everything that should be solid is firmly solid, and everything that should be liquid lightly flows. a functioning vessel is really such a gift.
so, despite my bought with diarrhea, topics on this blog are stopped up. gonna have to play catch up. so please be patient. i've been having certain epiphanies in my delirious hazes and other revelations that have come to me through conscious conversations: with wonderful partner, with other artists, with my pasts, with my self.
so this is just one of those place holders: you know, like how they always show five seconds of studio 8h during a really long commercial break on snl, and you're all like: what? and then you're like: aw, whatever. this is that five seconds. a little long, tho'. more soon.
again and again and again.
of course, being an artist with a certain liking for the absurd and scatalogical humor, there was one moment as i moaned and knelt on all fours over that bucket that i thought, "jesus. this is so painful and humiliating! this is so fucking hilarious!"
and, shit, it really was. i mean, c'mon! bucket? rolling around on the floor in your skivvies! running from your car to the bathroom sweating so hard because you're afraid you'll shit your pants? things can't get much funnier than shit and puke.
except when you're in it. even then.
i'm finally feeling better now. today is the first day in four that everything that should be solid is firmly solid, and everything that should be liquid lightly flows. a functioning vessel is really such a gift.
so, despite my bought with diarrhea, topics on this blog are stopped up. gonna have to play catch up. so please be patient. i've been having certain epiphanies in my delirious hazes and other revelations that have come to me through conscious conversations: with wonderful partner, with other artists, with my pasts, with my self.
so this is just one of those place holders: you know, like how they always show five seconds of studio 8h during a really long commercial break on snl, and you're all like: what? and then you're like: aw, whatever. this is that five seconds. a little long, tho'. more soon.
Sunday, March 23, 2008
on: seriously folks, there are REAL predators out there
so, wonderful partner read to me this story about how the fbi has been planting links in message boards to try to catch down-loaders of child porn.
the main reason she read it to me in the first place was she had only today told me about the phenomenon of rickrolling, that basically means putting a link on something (email, blog, IM, website) saying that the link is "x" (a kitty, a cool site, something...) and then it actually being a link to a youtube video of "never gonna give you up." yeah, i'm late to the scene, people.
so, the thing is, it seems that people have been (inadvertently or not) duck/rickrolling childporn links into some of their messages and thereby trapping unsuspecting link clickers in fbi snares.
sigh. i was gonna rickroll all y'all (yes, that IS the plural of y'all). but now i'm determined not to rickroll you or duckroll you in any way. because i don't want no errant child porn to somehow find itself in your cache, thereby subjecting you to unfettered fbi molesting. (not that i even have the slightest idea nor do i want to know how to find child porn.)
so, this story is pretty sad. wonderful partner and i just became speechless and agreed: why would they spend so much time and energy and money on these cases when there are REAL children being molested and put into porn? i just hate it. really.
real people. real children. our "justice" system can just get things all wrong. too often.
the main reason she read it to me in the first place was she had only today told me about the phenomenon of rickrolling, that basically means putting a link on something (email, blog, IM, website) saying that the link is "x" (a kitty, a cool site, something...) and then it actually being a link to a youtube video of "never gonna give you up." yeah, i'm late to the scene, people.
so, the thing is, it seems that people have been (inadvertently or not) duck/rickrolling childporn links into some of their messages and thereby trapping unsuspecting link clickers in fbi snares.
sigh. i was gonna rickroll all y'all (yes, that IS the plural of y'all). but now i'm determined not to rickroll you or duckroll you in any way. because i don't want no errant child porn to somehow find itself in your cache, thereby subjecting you to unfettered fbi molesting. (not that i even have the slightest idea nor do i want to know how to find child porn.)
so, this story is pretty sad. wonderful partner and i just became speechless and agreed: why would they spend so much time and energy and money on these cases when there are REAL children being molested and put into porn? i just hate it. really.
real people. real children. our "justice" system can just get things all wrong. too often.
on my horoscope for this week
scary? smart? i don't know who the good-looking monster could be...
This is one of those rare times when your empathy could undo you unless you adhere to the following guidelines. 1. Squelch any attraction you might have to fascinating ruins, sexy decay, or appalling beauty. 2. If you have been sucked into the sphere of a good-looking monster or seductive tyrant, yank yourself free. 3. Break your gaze the instant you sense you're falling under the sway of a flaming narcissist. 4. Suppress the temptation to think this thought: "I'm bored with my hell; I want to hang out in your hell for a change."
This is one of those rare times when your empathy could undo you unless you adhere to the following guidelines. 1. Squelch any attraction you might have to fascinating ruins, sexy decay, or appalling beauty. 2. If you have been sucked into the sphere of a good-looking monster or seductive tyrant, yank yourself free. 3. Break your gaze the instant you sense you're falling under the sway of a flaming narcissist. 4. Suppress the temptation to think this thought: "I'm bored with my hell; I want to hang out in your hell for a change."
Friday, March 21, 2008
on being someone to "perv" on
time has been a strange thing for me lately. it feels like what doctor who (ten) said about it being not so much linear, but like a big tangle of a ball. anyway, beside the point.
i'm just late in posting (bragging) about sugarbutch posting pix of me. i was flattered when she said she would. she's been working on a semi-loose archive of "butch" pix--aka "eye candy." although i sometimes have trouble with the moniker of "butch" per se, i feel totally cool and okay being called as such by SB. some time, maybe, i'll talk about my gender identity in relation to my art as well as money and the lotto. that would be a huge, multi-part post! (perhaps this whole blog is about that anyway...)
so, the link to the post is here. thanks, katerina for "perving" on me. to see it written down does, uh, stroke... my ego.
i'm just late in posting (bragging) about sugarbutch posting pix of me. i was flattered when she said she would. she's been working on a semi-loose archive of "butch" pix--aka "eye candy." although i sometimes have trouble with the moniker of "butch" per se, i feel totally cool and okay being called as such by SB. some time, maybe, i'll talk about my gender identity in relation to my art as well as money and the lotto. that would be a huge, multi-part post! (perhaps this whole blog is about that anyway...)
so, the link to the post is here. thanks, katerina for "perving" on me. to see it written down does, uh, stroke... my ego.
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
on apologies long overdue
when i was in college, i had a roller coaster ride of a time. politically, emotionally, socially. i started off as a good little mixed girl from japan, just trying to write music and learn biology. i ended up as a necktie-wearing, semi-militant, protest march attending, rip-roarin' radical queer of color.
at oberlin, this narrative arc isn't as rare as one would expect. in fact, it's really a rite of passage for all those who attend with some idea of moral and social justice. but man, what a ride.
so, during my third year of college, after my *race epiphany,* i became uber confrontational and sometimes mean. i made white women cry and wore it as a badge. i lost friends who i deemed to be "fucked up." and i made new enemies with people who were equally as outspoken as i was, but "wrong."
with one "enemy," i don't remember the circumstances too well. i think i've blocked it out of my memory. but i know it involved me confronting a white friend of mine about violating "safe space" for people of color; a huge campus-wide skirmish over the whole thing; and said "enemy" (being a close friend of my white friend who then became a non-friend) yelling "cunt" at me in the hallway of the conservatory. i think that made me cry.
i've hated him ever since.
but this morning, i received an apology from him in my inbox. i was shocked. floored, really. it seemed that he was starting to understand things that i never thought it was possible for him to understand. and he told me as much. i was so shocked, i thought someone sent me the message as a joke, posing as him. really, it was that shocking.
and i was moved. i don't see myself as becoming buddies with him or anything, but his change was moving. it also showed me that i've changed as well. i'm not as hard as i once was. and i like to think i'm not as stubborn. and i now know (all too well) that i am not always right.
this hasn't been the first email i have received from a college friend or acquaintance trying to reconcile about a burnt bridge. but this is the first one i've responded to with forgiveness, or mutual reconciliation.
maybe i'm more open now. or maybe i have a certain hunch that this message is part of the "making amends" step in a recovery program--and i've become so much more empathetic to recovering addicts. i've only recently written out a whole list of "amends" i want to make with people myself.
i wish i knew. but it's got me pondering a lot of things. here, after only four hours of sleep, under a dark, cloudy sky not unlike the one i lived under for seven years at oberlin.
at oberlin, this narrative arc isn't as rare as one would expect. in fact, it's really a rite of passage for all those who attend with some idea of moral and social justice. but man, what a ride.
so, during my third year of college, after my *race epiphany,* i became uber confrontational and sometimes mean. i made white women cry and wore it as a badge. i lost friends who i deemed to be "fucked up." and i made new enemies with people who were equally as outspoken as i was, but "wrong."
with one "enemy," i don't remember the circumstances too well. i think i've blocked it out of my memory. but i know it involved me confronting a white friend of mine about violating "safe space" for people of color; a huge campus-wide skirmish over the whole thing; and said "enemy" (being a close friend of my white friend who then became a non-friend) yelling "cunt" at me in the hallway of the conservatory. i think that made me cry.
i've hated him ever since.
but this morning, i received an apology from him in my inbox. i was shocked. floored, really. it seemed that he was starting to understand things that i never thought it was possible for him to understand. and he told me as much. i was so shocked, i thought someone sent me the message as a joke, posing as him. really, it was that shocking.
and i was moved. i don't see myself as becoming buddies with him or anything, but his change was moving. it also showed me that i've changed as well. i'm not as hard as i once was. and i like to think i'm not as stubborn. and i now know (all too well) that i am not always right.
this hasn't been the first email i have received from a college friend or acquaintance trying to reconcile about a burnt bridge. but this is the first one i've responded to with forgiveness, or mutual reconciliation.
maybe i'm more open now. or maybe i have a certain hunch that this message is part of the "making amends" step in a recovery program--and i've become so much more empathetic to recovering addicts. i've only recently written out a whole list of "amends" i want to make with people myself.
i wish i knew. but it's got me pondering a lot of things. here, after only four hours of sleep, under a dark, cloudy sky not unlike the one i lived under for seven years at oberlin.
Monday, March 3, 2008
on pink slips, creative capital
so, wonderful partner said to me, "maybe you should clarify with your readers about you getting fired."
my thinking was, oh it's clear enough! but then i realized, maybe it would be helpful to disclose some of the circumstances, just so it's absolutely clear: this had nothing to do with me or my skills as an actor.
last week, one of the main cast members quit. he was one of the lynch pins. even though other folks have left the cast, their characters were usually minor. one part was written out. the other part had been played by three actors.
anyway, main cast member quit. me and another actor spoke on the phone and agreed, "this is dead in the water." i was terrified, disappointed, but a bit relieved. only the week before, i had a tense conversation with the director about rehearsal space. i vouched for the play to my mentor in order to get new rehearsal space at UT. i had been trying to write a grant for the show so that we actors would be guaranteed some sort of compensation. i had mentioned the grant at least three weeks ago. but i was frustrated because it started to become something that i was about to start running around at the last minute to finish.
i was doing a lot for the play.
but i was taken aback by my relief when main cast member quit. i realized that this project had become an albatross. it felt like i was thinking about it more than, well, more than the creator. and i began to feel as though i wasn't getting very much in return. as a cast, we were scolded. as an actor, i was undervalued.
so i started thinking, maybe i should leave. but there were multiple reasons to stay. i really enjoyed the friendships i was developing with my cast mates. i was looking forward to performing, the first time in a couple years! i was actually beginning to grasp my character. really, the only reason i wanted to leave was my relationship with the director.
so i talked with her. she initiated the meeting. i told her i was considering leaving. she tried many tactics. she told me about what other cast members had said about me when i first signed on, about how they didn't like me. she told me about specific people saying that certain of my skills weren't good enough. she was tearing me down so she could build me up with that, "but you bring a depth and sincerity to slick that no one else can do."
one thing she tried to do was guilt me into staying. she said, "if for nothing else, stay for the time and energy the other actors have put into the play." that wasn't gonna fly with me. i've stayed in projects because i didn't want to let others down and i've ended up resenting them. if i was gonna stay, it had to be for my own reasons. on my own terms. so i said, "no, if i stay for them, i will hate them. i have to stay for me." to which she said, "you haven't played many team sports, i see." how fucking condescending. i told her, "i only play team sports."
even though i had gone into the meeting wanting to negotiate ways i could stay, a lot of the conversation ended up being her gossiping--something she always discouraged us from doing. somewhere in the conversation she asked me, "so, do you know what happened between [so-and-so] and [such-and-such]?" i did actually know, so-and-so had told me herself. but something about that moment made me lie and shake my head. maybe i was trying to tell her, i don't want to know. maybe i was curious what she would say. then she said, "well, you should ask so-and-so yourself, but it was basically [a very offensive thing to say about anyone, and illegal.]" at that point, i thought, just get through this meeting. just get her to agree to be the director. just tell her, i will stay, but i am going to distance myself from everything but the acting. and i did. at the end of it, i told her, i don't wanna know. i just wanted to be an actor. not a confidant, not a problem-solver.
the meeting ended and i was ambivalent. i felt like the director had not completely heard what i was saying, but she had heard enough that when i said, "i want you to only be the director to me. so i can be an actor. to insure this, if i find myself complaining about you, i will talk to you directly," she said, "good, okay." then she said, "in return, i want you to promise me you won't leave the production." after some thought, i agreed.
that evening, i called so-and-so. she has been my confidant. she has been the person in the play who i felt closest to. i talked about the meeting. i told her about how director couldn't stop gossiping in response to all my critiques. then i told her what the director had said about her and such-and-such. so-and-so said, "what the fuck?" and we bitched a little, but concluded, "well, that's [director] for you."
the next morning, i woke to realize, "jeez, i'm already complaining about the director. is this gonna work?" i saw that i had a voice mail from her but put off listening to it because i thought it would be her asking me to do something. finally i sighed and listened to it. on it, the director just simply said, "your services as an actor are no longer needed. we're recasting the role. please cancel the rehearsal space at UT."
i was floored. i didn't understand. what? huh? wha-hah?
i called the director back, but she didn't answer. i just said, "i got your message. i'm very upset. i think it was really disrespectful of you to fire me over voice mail, especially in light of our conversation yesterday. thanks for that."
it was just plain cruel. ask someone to promise to stay just so you could fire them? offer them no explanation? what the fuck?
the day continued with a flurry of phone calls. i called a couple other folks on the cast just to say, "i've been fired. i don't know why. i want you to know i respect you and i will miss working with you." i cried. i felt deeply ashamed, but i wasn't sure of what. i was angry. i was worried that other cast members had conspired to fire me because i had second thoughts. i thought the director had found someone "better" than me to play the part.
then i got a message from so-and-so saying, "oh my god, kt. i did not think that [director] would fire you. this isn't about you. you just got caught in the crossfire. if you're mad at me, i totally understand. i wish you the best in your future endeavors."
wha? when i finally reached so-and-so, i said, "now, WHY would i be mad at YOU?" turns out, so-and-so slept on what i had told her. the next morning, she realized she was livid about what the director had said to me about her and such-and-such. bless her brave heart, she decided to confront the director about it. basically calling the director on her shit, something like, "i don't appreciate you talking about me to other members of the cast. it's my story to tell. you always criticize us for talking about you behind your back, but i think you're a hypocrite. if you want, i will tell you everything i think to your face once the production is over. i'll see you at rehearsal."
then what happened was, the director fired so-and-so right there, no discussion. and then, apparently, she called me and fired me. even after so-and-so narrated this, i told her, "again, WHY would i be mad at YOU?"
it was a bad decision on the director's part. the next day, the director informed the rest of the cast that she had fired so-and-so and myself. i don't know what planet you would have to live on not to feel threatened and angry when two of your colleagues get fired for no apparent reason. another cast member decided to quit. then another. as far as i know, only two out of eight cast members remain. it's a rapidly sinking ship.
after those two quit, i got another call from the director. i couldn't bare to talk to her. when i listened to her message, she was super conciliatory. trying to explain her way out of her actions, and finally wishing me the best on my projects. i am convinced that had i answered the phone, she would have asked me back. i would have said no.
because the director is a crazymaker. i think that is what i was trying to tell her at last week's meeting. i was trying to say, very gently and professionally, you're driving us away. you're creating drama where it doesn't belong. you're triangulating us. you're discounting our realities.
but you can't reason with a crazymaker. because they deny they are crazymakers. because nothing is their fault. i've been tempted out of pity to send her a message saying, look, [director] you should know you are a crazymaker. until you resolve your crazymaking ways, nothing you do with other self-respecting artists will come into fruition.
but i won't. even though i'm deeply saddened all that work and emotional energy has been squandered, i'm glad that i have eliminated a crazymaker from my life. to engage with her would bring her back into my life. i absolutely don't want that.
part of me wishes she reads this post and realizes she is a crazy maker. but that's all it is, wish.
i had high hopes for this production. in case it isn't obvious, we genderqueers rarely get a chance to act. there are hardly any roles for us, that's why i write my own stuff. it felt like such a good thing, for a while. a gaggle of queers acting queer and human and playing out dramas on stage rather than in life. for a short while, that is what the production was. that is what we all wanted it to be. and then, literally overnight, it crashed and burned. now, even if the play does go up, it won't be that queer ball of goodness it once was.
so, now you know. thanks for reading.
on a completely different front, i submitted my creative capital application. i've grown a little. through all this drama, i managed to preserve a little bit of myself in order to finish something that could really and truly benefit me and nurture me. i'm thankful for that.
my thinking was, oh it's clear enough! but then i realized, maybe it would be helpful to disclose some of the circumstances, just so it's absolutely clear: this had nothing to do with me or my skills as an actor.
last week, one of the main cast members quit. he was one of the lynch pins. even though other folks have left the cast, their characters were usually minor. one part was written out. the other part had been played by three actors.
anyway, main cast member quit. me and another actor spoke on the phone and agreed, "this is dead in the water." i was terrified, disappointed, but a bit relieved. only the week before, i had a tense conversation with the director about rehearsal space. i vouched for the play to my mentor in order to get new rehearsal space at UT. i had been trying to write a grant for the show so that we actors would be guaranteed some sort of compensation. i had mentioned the grant at least three weeks ago. but i was frustrated because it started to become something that i was about to start running around at the last minute to finish.
i was doing a lot for the play.
but i was taken aback by my relief when main cast member quit. i realized that this project had become an albatross. it felt like i was thinking about it more than, well, more than the creator. and i began to feel as though i wasn't getting very much in return. as a cast, we were scolded. as an actor, i was undervalued.
so i started thinking, maybe i should leave. but there were multiple reasons to stay. i really enjoyed the friendships i was developing with my cast mates. i was looking forward to performing, the first time in a couple years! i was actually beginning to grasp my character. really, the only reason i wanted to leave was my relationship with the director.
so i talked with her. she initiated the meeting. i told her i was considering leaving. she tried many tactics. she told me about what other cast members had said about me when i first signed on, about how they didn't like me. she told me about specific people saying that certain of my skills weren't good enough. she was tearing me down so she could build me up with that, "but you bring a depth and sincerity to slick that no one else can do."
one thing she tried to do was guilt me into staying. she said, "if for nothing else, stay for the time and energy the other actors have put into the play." that wasn't gonna fly with me. i've stayed in projects because i didn't want to let others down and i've ended up resenting them. if i was gonna stay, it had to be for my own reasons. on my own terms. so i said, "no, if i stay for them, i will hate them. i have to stay for me." to which she said, "you haven't played many team sports, i see." how fucking condescending. i told her, "i only play team sports."
even though i had gone into the meeting wanting to negotiate ways i could stay, a lot of the conversation ended up being her gossiping--something she always discouraged us from doing. somewhere in the conversation she asked me, "so, do you know what happened between [so-and-so] and [such-and-such]?" i did actually know, so-and-so had told me herself. but something about that moment made me lie and shake my head. maybe i was trying to tell her, i don't want to know. maybe i was curious what she would say. then she said, "well, you should ask so-and-so yourself, but it was basically [a very offensive thing to say about anyone, and illegal.]" at that point, i thought, just get through this meeting. just get her to agree to be the director. just tell her, i will stay, but i am going to distance myself from everything but the acting. and i did. at the end of it, i told her, i don't wanna know. i just wanted to be an actor. not a confidant, not a problem-solver.
the meeting ended and i was ambivalent. i felt like the director had not completely heard what i was saying, but she had heard enough that when i said, "i want you to only be the director to me. so i can be an actor. to insure this, if i find myself complaining about you, i will talk to you directly," she said, "good, okay." then she said, "in return, i want you to promise me you won't leave the production." after some thought, i agreed.
that evening, i called so-and-so. she has been my confidant. she has been the person in the play who i felt closest to. i talked about the meeting. i told her about how director couldn't stop gossiping in response to all my critiques. then i told her what the director had said about her and such-and-such. so-and-so said, "what the fuck?" and we bitched a little, but concluded, "well, that's [director] for you."
the next morning, i woke to realize, "jeez, i'm already complaining about the director. is this gonna work?" i saw that i had a voice mail from her but put off listening to it because i thought it would be her asking me to do something. finally i sighed and listened to it. on it, the director just simply said, "your services as an actor are no longer needed. we're recasting the role. please cancel the rehearsal space at UT."
i was floored. i didn't understand. what? huh? wha-hah?
i called the director back, but she didn't answer. i just said, "i got your message. i'm very upset. i think it was really disrespectful of you to fire me over voice mail, especially in light of our conversation yesterday. thanks for that."
it was just plain cruel. ask someone to promise to stay just so you could fire them? offer them no explanation? what the fuck?
the day continued with a flurry of phone calls. i called a couple other folks on the cast just to say, "i've been fired. i don't know why. i want you to know i respect you and i will miss working with you." i cried. i felt deeply ashamed, but i wasn't sure of what. i was angry. i was worried that other cast members had conspired to fire me because i had second thoughts. i thought the director had found someone "better" than me to play the part.
then i got a message from so-and-so saying, "oh my god, kt. i did not think that [director] would fire you. this isn't about you. you just got caught in the crossfire. if you're mad at me, i totally understand. i wish you the best in your future endeavors."
wha? when i finally reached so-and-so, i said, "now, WHY would i be mad at YOU?" turns out, so-and-so slept on what i had told her. the next morning, she realized she was livid about what the director had said to me about her and such-and-such. bless her brave heart, she decided to confront the director about it. basically calling the director on her shit, something like, "i don't appreciate you talking about me to other members of the cast. it's my story to tell. you always criticize us for talking about you behind your back, but i think you're a hypocrite. if you want, i will tell you everything i think to your face once the production is over. i'll see you at rehearsal."
then what happened was, the director fired so-and-so right there, no discussion. and then, apparently, she called me and fired me. even after so-and-so narrated this, i told her, "again, WHY would i be mad at YOU?"
it was a bad decision on the director's part. the next day, the director informed the rest of the cast that she had fired so-and-so and myself. i don't know what planet you would have to live on not to feel threatened and angry when two of your colleagues get fired for no apparent reason. another cast member decided to quit. then another. as far as i know, only two out of eight cast members remain. it's a rapidly sinking ship.
after those two quit, i got another call from the director. i couldn't bare to talk to her. when i listened to her message, she was super conciliatory. trying to explain her way out of her actions, and finally wishing me the best on my projects. i am convinced that had i answered the phone, she would have asked me back. i would have said no.
because the director is a crazymaker. i think that is what i was trying to tell her at last week's meeting. i was trying to say, very gently and professionally, you're driving us away. you're creating drama where it doesn't belong. you're triangulating us. you're discounting our realities.
but you can't reason with a crazymaker. because they deny they are crazymakers. because nothing is their fault. i've been tempted out of pity to send her a message saying, look, [director] you should know you are a crazymaker. until you resolve your crazymaking ways, nothing you do with other self-respecting artists will come into fruition.
but i won't. even though i'm deeply saddened all that work and emotional energy has been squandered, i'm glad that i have eliminated a crazymaker from my life. to engage with her would bring her back into my life. i absolutely don't want that.
part of me wishes she reads this post and realizes she is a crazy maker. but that's all it is, wish.
i had high hopes for this production. in case it isn't obvious, we genderqueers rarely get a chance to act. there are hardly any roles for us, that's why i write my own stuff. it felt like such a good thing, for a while. a gaggle of queers acting queer and human and playing out dramas on stage rather than in life. for a short while, that is what the production was. that is what we all wanted it to be. and then, literally overnight, it crashed and burned. now, even if the play does go up, it won't be that queer ball of goodness it once was.
so, now you know. thanks for reading.
on a completely different front, i submitted my creative capital application. i've grown a little. through all this drama, i managed to preserve a little bit of myself in order to finish something that could really and truly benefit me and nurture me. i'm thankful for that.
Sunday, March 2, 2008
on crazymakers
in the artist's way, julia cameron spends a significant section on "crazymakers." here is what she says:
"crazymakers are those personalities that create storm centers. they are often charismatic, frequently charming, highly inventive and powerfully persuasive. and, for the creative person in their vicinity, they are enormously destructive."
in addition, she lists the following bullet point descriptors. crazymakers:
break deals and destroy schedules
expect special treatment
discount your reality
spend your time and money
triangulate those they deal with
are expert blamers
create dramas--but seldom where they belong
hate schedules--except their own
hate order
deny that they are crazymakers
she doesn't go so far as to say, "eradicate those crazymakers from your life," but rather says instead that we should ask why we still tolerate them. why we let them block our creativity.
i have spent a lot of time with crazymakers. i once tried to direct a show where half the cast were crazymakers. of course, that show never happened.
i know that i have been a crazymaker in the lives of others. i think we all have the potential to be crazymakers. but we actively choose not to be. it's an act of vigilance.
lovely, wonderful, sage-like partner has encouraged me to allow my anger toward my recent crazymaker to blossom. i am angry. but i can't let it go completely. i see the crazymaker in myself and falter. but i think i need to embrace the rage. because i've worked so hard to not be a crazymaker to others. i deserve the same courtesy.
i do. i really do.
"crazymakers are those personalities that create storm centers. they are often charismatic, frequently charming, highly inventive and powerfully persuasive. and, for the creative person in their vicinity, they are enormously destructive."
in addition, she lists the following bullet point descriptors. crazymakers:
break deals and destroy schedules
expect special treatment
discount your reality
spend your time and money
triangulate those they deal with
are expert blamers
create dramas--but seldom where they belong
hate schedules--except their own
hate order
deny that they are crazymakers
she doesn't go so far as to say, "eradicate those crazymakers from your life," but rather says instead that we should ask why we still tolerate them. why we let them block our creativity.
i have spent a lot of time with crazymakers. i once tried to direct a show where half the cast were crazymakers. of course, that show never happened.
i know that i have been a crazymaker in the lives of others. i think we all have the potential to be crazymakers. but we actively choose not to be. it's an act of vigilance.
lovely, wonderful, sage-like partner has encouraged me to allow my anger toward my recent crazymaker to blossom. i am angry. but i can't let it go completely. i see the crazymaker in myself and falter. but i think i need to embrace the rage. because i've worked so hard to not be a crazymaker to others. i deserve the same courtesy.
i do. i really do.
Saturday, March 1, 2008
on inappropriate laughter
ahhhhhh, hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!
i've been fired, y'all! from the play that i've spent many months working on. from the play that i had to get over my kissing anxiety with. from the play that i've worked very very hard to promote and act and understand!
i started crying, but then i just kept laughing. laughing and crying, crying and laughing. like the borderline crazy that i am.
the first time i really started laughing like this was when my mom died. now it's just second nature to me. uncomfortable? laugh loud. sad? laugh loud. mourning? laugh loud. livid with anger? laugh loud.
i can't even write here what all the reasons and problems were that have led to this. i'm tempted to slander a certain someone and sit back and enjoy the carnage. but there is a part of me that just can't do that.
so i laugh.
aaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhh! hahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!
you should know that only yesterday i was pressed by the producer of the show to *promise* to stay on, because i have brought "such a sincerity and depth" to my character. you should know i was considering leaving but after yesterday, i decided to stay on anew. you should know that i was fired over voicemail.
there are other details, but really, that would just be too much.
i'm an unemployed actor, y'all!
Hah. Hah. Hah.
i've been fired, y'all! from the play that i've spent many months working on. from the play that i had to get over my kissing anxiety with. from the play that i've worked very very hard to promote and act and understand!
i started crying, but then i just kept laughing. laughing and crying, crying and laughing. like the borderline crazy that i am.
the first time i really started laughing like this was when my mom died. now it's just second nature to me. uncomfortable? laugh loud. sad? laugh loud. mourning? laugh loud. livid with anger? laugh loud.
i can't even write here what all the reasons and problems were that have led to this. i'm tempted to slander a certain someone and sit back and enjoy the carnage. but there is a part of me that just can't do that.
so i laugh.
aaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhh! hahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!
you should know that only yesterday i was pressed by the producer of the show to *promise* to stay on, because i have brought "such a sincerity and depth" to my character. you should know i was considering leaving but after yesterday, i decided to stay on anew. you should know that i was fired over voicemail.
there are other details, but really, that would just be too much.
i'm an unemployed actor, y'all!
Hah. Hah. Hah.
Thursday, February 28, 2008
i'm still here
so, i'm stressed out. jiggling my leg impatiently as i inhale the bad cancer-causing smoke that i told myself i would quit by the time i was 30.
this is the first time i've wished i had an anonymous blog. because i'm working through a certain stress that i wish i could vent here. but i worry that someone relevant to the stress may read this blog. i doubt it, since one of the things about the relevant person(s) is that they seem very clueless to my life. but i can't risk it.
i don't have an anonymous blog. i've been tempted, once or twice. but since part of writing this blog is about putting my voice and therefore "name" out there as an artist, i've signed on to everything with my real name.
so i'm wound tight and i don't know what to do. not only is there this unbloggable stress, but there is also the creative capital "letter of intent" deadline one tuesday (3pm EST) and at least one if not two city grants due monday. and a book review. and some web stuff. haha.
lovely partner has been encouraging me to think for myself. to prioritize what is the most important and to fight for what i need. she rarely gives bad advice. this is no exception.
on other newsfronts, i'm midway through a story that is haunting me. it's another rude one that bound itself in front of other ideas in my head. spilling from my pen until i realized it would prolly be the next of my finished tales. i decided earlier this evening that i will bite the bullet and include a certain taboo that creeped into my mind a couple days ago. i'm worried it will "taint" the story. but it actually lends itself to the plot. so, we'll see.
okay. wish me luck.
i just wanted to shout out to two folks. ana l, have a good trip. i'll miss you. kw, you're beautiful. just keep performing.
this is the first time i've wished i had an anonymous blog. because i'm working through a certain stress that i wish i could vent here. but i worry that someone relevant to the stress may read this blog. i doubt it, since one of the things about the relevant person(s) is that they seem very clueless to my life. but i can't risk it.
i don't have an anonymous blog. i've been tempted, once or twice. but since part of writing this blog is about putting my voice and therefore "name" out there as an artist, i've signed on to everything with my real name.
so i'm wound tight and i don't know what to do. not only is there this unbloggable stress, but there is also the creative capital "letter of intent" deadline one tuesday (3pm EST) and at least one if not two city grants due monday. and a book review. and some web stuff. haha.
lovely partner has been encouraging me to think for myself. to prioritize what is the most important and to fight for what i need. she rarely gives bad advice. this is no exception.
on other newsfronts, i'm midway through a story that is haunting me. it's another rude one that bound itself in front of other ideas in my head. spilling from my pen until i realized it would prolly be the next of my finished tales. i decided earlier this evening that i will bite the bullet and include a certain taboo that creeped into my mind a couple days ago. i'm worried it will "taint" the story. but it actually lends itself to the plot. so, we'll see.
okay. wish me luck.
i just wanted to shout out to two folks. ana l, have a good trip. i'll miss you. kw, you're beautiful. just keep performing.
Sunday, February 24, 2008
on stasis and equilibrium
feeling okay right now. my head isn't about to explode. part of it is that i'm tired. i should go to sleep. part of it is that i'm on autopilot. or something. found a stupid game on the internets that i won't even link to here because it will suck out your soul like it has been mine.
not quite even-keeled. but really kinda bored.
dearest readers, i have one deadline next week and two grant requests to submit by 3/3. please help me do them. i will link to them later on.
for now, i think i need a cigarette. oh yeah, blood relatives, forget that you just read that. i don't smoke. really.
blerg.
not quite even-keeled. but really kinda bored.
dearest readers, i have one deadline next week and two grant requests to submit by 3/3. please help me do them. i will link to them later on.
for now, i think i need a cigarette. oh yeah, blood relatives, forget that you just read that. i don't smoke. really.
blerg.
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
on neediness
i am reaching for your hand
i am looking for your eyes
i am straining my ear to hear your voice
i know what it feels like
i know how they look
i know what you will say
because i am eating
with my senses
while i'm starving my stomach
i consume everything
all the time
voracious and not easily sated
give me give me give me
your every secret
the essence of your very soul
i want to suck your life
just so i can sustain mine
i am a vacuum
what i have is more than enough
but i want more
much, much more
i will take it from you
you won't even notice
in the tone of your voice
the sigh of your breath
the pauses between words of significance
and as you walk away
i will lick my lips
with that crazed glint in my eye
searching for the next one to consume
i am looking for your eyes
i am straining my ear to hear your voice
i know what it feels like
i know how they look
i know what you will say
because i am eating
with my senses
while i'm starving my stomach
i consume everything
all the time
voracious and not easily sated
give me give me give me
your every secret
the essence of your very soul
i want to suck your life
just so i can sustain mine
i am a vacuum
what i have is more than enough
but i want more
much, much more
i will take it from you
you won't even notice
in the tone of your voice
the sigh of your breath
the pauses between words of significance
and as you walk away
i will lick my lips
with that crazed glint in my eye
searching for the next one to consume
Saturday, February 16, 2008
so, is this the answer?
what seems like ages ago, i was on myspace requesting friends like crazy. one of the myspace accounts i requested was the "arundhati roy supporters." i don't know how i came across them, or why i requested them as a friend (they are, after all, merely supporters of arundhati roy and not roy herself). they took a long time to accept the request. but today they did, and as a comment, they left this quote:
"The only dream worth having is to dream that you will live while you are alive, and die only when you are dead. To love, to be loved. To never forget your own insignificance. To never get used to the unspeakable violence and vulgar disparity of the life around you. To seek joy in the saddest places. To pursue beauty to its lair. To never simplify what is complicated or complicate what is simple. To respect strength, never power. Above all to watch. To try and understand. To never look away. And never, never to forget."--Arundhati Roy
i feel like it was an answer to the entry i posted only a few hours ago.
dammit, AR, you're good.
"The only dream worth having is to dream that you will live while you are alive, and die only when you are dead. To love, to be loved. To never forget your own insignificance. To never get used to the unspeakable violence and vulgar disparity of the life around you. To seek joy in the saddest places. To pursue beauty to its lair. To never simplify what is complicated or complicate what is simple. To respect strength, never power. Above all to watch. To try and understand. To never look away. And never, never to forget."--Arundhati Roy
i feel like it was an answer to the entry i posted only a few hours ago.
dammit, AR, you're good.
on mistakes, starvation
i'm not the most careful person. it took me a long time to realize the best way to combat this is through thorough editing. but alas, i keep reading stuff i write, over and over again, and still, i find mistakes in every single go. everything i have been doing lately has felt laced with sloppiness and imprecision.
i know, i know, i only recently wrote a post about failure. yes. yes. thanks for reminding me.
but it is unnerving. i think that part of it is my starvation. both physical and emotional. i'm still having trouble eating. i am happy to report that i did just eat a bowl of soup. but i know that my sudden reduction in caloric intake has probably taken its toll on my brain cells (i remember at a student life meeting at oberlin, the nurse practitioner stressed that anorexia can actually cause weightloss in the brain. i don't think i'm nearly that far yet, but it still bothers me). i've also been pretty starved in sleep, and in rest. getting to bed after 3am has been pretty standard in the last weeks. and then i'm not really taking the time to "stock my pond" if you use a julia cameron term .
i did take a quiet moment on wednesday to visit the altar they had set up outside resistencia to pay my respects to raulrsalinas. i had gone there to give him my energy, but i feel like i came away from it taking his. i couldn't help but hear his voice telling me--in that ever so mellow yet robust tone--to chill out and take care. raul, i'm here to say thank you. i would pray. but losing my concentration in a mix of grief and fatigue.
i've spent a bunch of paper time mocking myself. you know, writing, you're an asshole, you're a fool, what a fucking shithead you are, stuff like that. and this attitude has bled into my interaction with people around me. beloved people around me, actually. i've been mean. i've been distant. i've played strange games that make sense to no one, including myself.
it's a spiral, this. because after i posted that note about raul a couple days ago, i had resolved anew that i would live. not just live, but live long and fat. i would be like my uncle, that 85 year-old codger chain smoking and handing out pithy advice. i would be the one who people would look to for survival skills. i will be the one to live and live and live and show people that you can be colored and queer and strange and creative and you don't have to die before your time is due. you don't have to be sick, you don't have to always be living on the edge of survival. i would make it look easy, so no one could question my existence. and i would laugh and laugh and laugh, even when it was sad. laugh long and hard enough that no one around me could help but laugh along.
i resolved this but two days ago. and now? i want the darkness to envelope me and comfort me. i want to find a hole in the ground just cold enough that i will begin to shiver. i want life to run away from me, so fast that i can't help but let it go.
so i go back and forth. despair. then i berate myself for my despair. i see kristina wong's show and i'm inspired. but then i go home and create problems in my head. all alone, just drama after drama unfolding into the blackbox that is my brain. i write and write, here in the blog and in my self-hating journal. but my stories have been untouched and they call out--grotesque and demanding. my mom visits and looks at me sympathetically, but she knows she can't quite stand me up. and i take her visits not as the loving omens that they are, but as some type of guilt trip--you should be working on the opera. she would never say that. she would never think it. she would just say, you're doing your best, ke-to. that's all you can do.
mistakes, kt, mistakes. i know i need to nourish myself. my body, my mind, my soul. but what do you do when the patient refuses to heal. when all she has to do is take the pill and swallow, but she won't even open her mouth?
i want to open. i want to take it. i just don't know how.
i know, i know, i only recently wrote a post about failure. yes. yes. thanks for reminding me.
but it is unnerving. i think that part of it is my starvation. both physical and emotional. i'm still having trouble eating. i am happy to report that i did just eat a bowl of soup. but i know that my sudden reduction in caloric intake has probably taken its toll on my brain cells (i remember at a student life meeting at oberlin, the nurse practitioner stressed that anorexia can actually cause weightloss in the brain. i don't think i'm nearly that far yet, but it still bothers me). i've also been pretty starved in sleep, and in rest. getting to bed after 3am has been pretty standard in the last weeks. and then i'm not really taking the time to "stock my pond" if you use a julia cameron term .
i did take a quiet moment on wednesday to visit the altar they had set up outside resistencia to pay my respects to raulrsalinas. i had gone there to give him my energy, but i feel like i came away from it taking his. i couldn't help but hear his voice telling me--in that ever so mellow yet robust tone--to chill out and take care. raul, i'm here to say thank you. i would pray. but losing my concentration in a mix of grief and fatigue.
i've spent a bunch of paper time mocking myself. you know, writing, you're an asshole, you're a fool, what a fucking shithead you are, stuff like that. and this attitude has bled into my interaction with people around me. beloved people around me, actually. i've been mean. i've been distant. i've played strange games that make sense to no one, including myself.
it's a spiral, this. because after i posted that note about raul a couple days ago, i had resolved anew that i would live. not just live, but live long and fat. i would be like my uncle, that 85 year-old codger chain smoking and handing out pithy advice. i would be the one who people would look to for survival skills. i will be the one to live and live and live and show people that you can be colored and queer and strange and creative and you don't have to die before your time is due. you don't have to be sick, you don't have to always be living on the edge of survival. i would make it look easy, so no one could question my existence. and i would laugh and laugh and laugh, even when it was sad. laugh long and hard enough that no one around me could help but laugh along.
i resolved this but two days ago. and now? i want the darkness to envelope me and comfort me. i want to find a hole in the ground just cold enough that i will begin to shiver. i want life to run away from me, so fast that i can't help but let it go.
so i go back and forth. despair. then i berate myself for my despair. i see kristina wong's show and i'm inspired. but then i go home and create problems in my head. all alone, just drama after drama unfolding into the blackbox that is my brain. i write and write, here in the blog and in my self-hating journal. but my stories have been untouched and they call out--grotesque and demanding. my mom visits and looks at me sympathetically, but she knows she can't quite stand me up. and i take her visits not as the loving omens that they are, but as some type of guilt trip--you should be working on the opera. she would never say that. she would never think it. she would just say, you're doing your best, ke-to. that's all you can do.
mistakes, kt, mistakes. i know i need to nourish myself. my body, my mind, my soul. but what do you do when the patient refuses to heal. when all she has to do is take the pill and swallow, but she won't even open her mouth?
i want to open. i want to take it. i just don't know how.
Monday, February 11, 2008
on portraits
ever stay up late at night, talking with your bedmate, and then you realize the silliest things...lovely partner and i were up late one night insulting our dogs. lovingly, of course. mila was a tiny little puppy when we got
her. but she had big paws. we've always called her "man-hands." and then there was the name her breeder gave her, "smudge," which we liked, but couldn't quite adopt as our own name for her. shota also has a name his breeder gave him, "pinstripe." we refer to this as his slave name (since his breeder did engage in some....dodgy...uh....practices).we realized that we could all have various nicknames.
we also realized that we haven't taken any family portraits since mila arrived. so i thought i would draw them.
the image above is us with our "mob" names--based on our faces. from the left: shota, mila, kt, lovely partner.
this left image is obviously about hair. i suppose this would be our bloodhound gang personas. or something like that. although, could be mob-ish, too.
and then there's this right image. it's more about our bodies. poor shota. he's been having this eating problem for over a year now. he gained a lot of weight back recently, but when he's thin, it's pretty sad. you know, whippets being naturally prone to thinness. and, if you haven't guessed, he's tan. and, since i did post a whole entry on my cup size, i hope you can infer correctly which one of us "boobs" is.
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