starry nights and rainy days

in walking home from swati's this morning it was raining. i was plodding along with my large black umbrella staring at the ground most of the time. my senses seemed heightened. i could hear the berries and seeds cracking beneath my feet. i began counting the many cigarette butts....the weird spikey brown balls from the trees that threaten to get caught under my bike tires and make me skid more often than not. i wondered if anyone in the entire expanse of history had ever written a poem about taking a walk while staring at the ground the entire time. i figured that surely it must've already been done, and many times over. i recalled yesterday, watching a girl at sac city college kneeling to rescue an earthworm from the sidewalk of death.

eventually i realized that much of my energy was concentrated on the big toe of my right foot, i could slowly feel water seeping in through my shoe, making that toe cold and clammy inside of the damned wet sock. i took note that my left foot was perfectly dry...and i also recalled that these were the shoes i wore while in berlin, in the rain, in the blustery chill, and my feet both stayed quite dry there. the sense of aging, of something becoming worn and less able to stand up to the elements made me consider if the entire thing was an analogy of life itself. i quickly shook off the notion, laughing scornfully to myself at my sense of finality, of dramatism.

my black umbrella rested upon my shoulder, my arm not wanting to hold it up properly. when i was a child i had always wanted vincent van gough's 'starry night' umbrella. i felt it would make me appear studied and cultured. i wanted to dress like a beatnik and write up a storm. i wanted to be frida. (maybe i just wanted to have sex with frida)...in high school i was permitted by my parents to paint my room; and the colors i chose were similar to the starry night piece. purples, and blues, blacks...i painted grass growing upside down from the up most four corners of the room, and i felt very mature indeed. it wasn't until years later that i came to stare upon 'the starry night' again, and realized that i didn't like it all any longer. and today i still don't like it. something about the piece is super trite...maybe it is merely the fact that it is such a famous piece and can be seen everywhere, not just in museums, but in gift shops on post cards, on bad garden flags hanging from people's driveways in suburbia, on pot holders, on coffee mugs....but what do i know? jack shit i figure; i'm certainly not a keeper of the arts.

so, just now with the rain letting up, i have arrived at the weatherstone cafe. in sitting down to study (i started school yesterday, the first time back in 5 years)...i looked up to see a young man i know, with his new girl friend.

there they went, out the door, he holding it open for her, he kissing her on the forehead, there they went, she looking happily at him, she holding a vincent van gough 'starry night' umbrella.

something about it makes me feel like perhaps the two of them are not meant to be.

lists

to buy:
new (used, fast) road bike
swim suit for the virgin islands
book bag, leather/canvas/brown
nice shirts, collared, vintage!
christmas gifts for parents, swati, roomie
bike lock (or figure out old bike lock's mechanisms, i.e. use my brain)
camera

to do:
make dentist appt #2
enroll in classes (tomorrow!)
choose a major (ha)
save money for tooth repair
health insurance
prep for virgin islans
prep for long awaited return to school
practice 'jet boy' drag number with erin
re carpet bedroom floor
paint kitchen mustard yellow
repair red velvet curtains
window insulation for winter

to read/complete reading:
'banker to the poor'
'borderlands'
'the spirit catches you and you fall down'
'the god of small things' (to be re-read)
'the people's history of the US'

projects:
record club poster for rodger
complete family portrait
drag king number(s), create new performances
drag king AIDS ride benefit for gina

people to see/visit with:
ayumi ashley at her new apt in sf
rachel marrs, listen to her stories behind the purchased thailand photos
rachel gregg, quality time before departure
chelsea wolfe, crafting, hand made christmas gifts
johnny flores, house warming party
natalie gordon, trip to portland??
everybody--for a nabe party or a chinese hot pot party (very winter!)

to be continued....

sideways pussy, my take on orientalism

the following is a piece i wrote then read at luna's this past week. it was an amazing night; take back midtown presented "stop being a fucking creep" plus tara jepsen, beth lisick, and my heroine michelle tea were all present...i was nervous as all hell having never read before let alone in front of one of my adolescent role models...but it went well, every one was laughing and michelle tea approached me afterwards, complimenting my work to my great embarassment and pride. here is the piece, although better live.

(in a breathy voice, with Asiatic flute playing in background)

picture it

an ancient land, dripping with tradition and lore

imagine the fog rising through the lush green mountains, bamboo forests abound

the moisssssst earth.

the silk of emperors and dynasties past.

the far east

asia

myyyyy landdddd (pull rice out of pocket, scatter on the floor)

picture me, an "oriental," eating stir fried puppy with ginger and black bean sauce, breeding like a rabbit.

plastic buddahs hanging from every door way.

pikachu and dragon ball Z characters dancing through my dreams like the ping pong champion i was born to be

happy ending?

sucky sucky?

or shall i mop your floor first?

everymorningiawakenandvomitchopstickswhentheentiretimeifindmyselfLUSTINGforafork.

AM I just another geisha in the streets of ancient kyoto flocking to tom cruise, america's last samurai, tearing off my kimono in glorious rapture because

EVERY ASIAN GIRL WANTS TO FUCK A WHITE GUY???

am i?

aparently the answer is yes, at least according to a shameful amount of male individuals who frequent my current place of employment.----not all guys are like these, btw.

(hand drums played in hyponotic beat)

(cryptically)

enter the kasbah lounge, a dark lair of decadence and delight.

sippp on lebanese wine under the canopies, let the turkish coffee seeeeep into your pores.

welcome to this world of

exotica
erotica
enter you the priviledged male
enter if you dare
come one
come all

yesssss stepp right up! gather around! we have gorgeous girls here, one or more of each flavor for you gentlemen.

TAKE. YOUR. PICK of the litter, the cream of the crop, perhaps this tall dark haired siren from palestine, or heck, maybe you'd like one of 'the koreans', they are so, so shy...

perfection.

then...there is me, the weird girl with the weird hair.

youcanfindmeatthekasbahwednesdaythroughsundayfrom4pmtoaboutmidnightunlessitisasloweverninginwhichtheywillsendmehomearound10pm.

and what kind of establishment do we run?

it's a god damned eatery
a fucking restaraunt
a hell of a place to nosh

would you like a HOT PEICE OF ASS WITH YOUR FALAFEL?

ohhh the joys of

orientalism
sexism
racism
bigotry

familiar words, but not to all

it's quite amazing really, that sacramento is one of the most ethnically diverse cities in the entire natopn, considering not one night passes by without a man making an asian related inquiry or snarky remark to me at work...

here are some ACTUAL customer comments as follows:

"you speak good english." (thanks man)

"do you know karate?" (no, but i can spit in your food)

"i dated a mongolian girl once." (blank stare)

"shouldn't you be working at the sushi bar next door?" (incredious stare)

"my friend and i are having a bet. are you chinese or korean?" (neither!)

"HEYYYY it's taiwan's finest!" (whatttt??)

"you remind me of my wife from the war." (oh. my. god.)

"you look like margaret cho." (oh helll no)

"what's your name?" (debbie)
"nooo, what is your REAL name?" (holy shit. my name is debbie, dumbass)

"do you model for honda car import shows?" (i just need to walk away)

"what are you doing waitressing? shouldnt you be a dentist or something?" (NO. COMMENT.)

the list goes on

the comment which takes the cake however had me dumbfounded.

"can i ask you a question? do your pussy lips go the other way, because i've heard that chinese girls have horizontal pussies."

wow

wow

wow

as women we should NEVER have to take this.

so, YOU OF FRANCE are not hairy and easily offended.

YOU OF AFRICA are not herding antelope on the national geographic channel.

YOU OF RUSSIA are not anorexic money grubbing ballerinas

YOU OF MEXICO are not just good for staying in abusive relationships

YOU OF INDIA do not taste like curry

YOU OF EASTERN EUROPE are not all just prostitutes

YOU OF THE MIDDLE EAST are not just one of four belly dancing wives

YOU OF AFRICAN AMERICAN DECENT are not just 'angry black chicks'

YOU OF CENTRAL AMERICA are not peices of meat, breeding for the catholic church.

no.

you are WOMEN and you are LOVED more than THEY will ever know.

thank you.

on vino, wind storms, and having three sentences

***it is after 4 in the manana, and i am a wee bit intoxicated---(euphemism for "very drunk")*** there is a kitty kat in my bed passed out and stealing all of the covers, so i'm present in the afterglow, winding down.


this here eve i invited some loved ones to this here porch. the breeze was gusty; t'was chilling to zee bones, but we thrived---thank you oh mr. heater device, thank you very much so. don't knock it! damn.

there was cheeeese, there was fruit, there was wine GALORE---spanish wine from the work of your's truly....Moroccan vino as well..
...
there was edith piaf, there was nina simone, there was lauryn hill, grass widow, bats for lashes, and josephine baker.

we were all here, present.

a few hours into the night it was decided that we would choose a topic then go about the circle, each speaking for a mere but mighty three sentences when the turn arose.

it was like summer camp, the orange fire on our faces, the black sky, the kinship.

one topic: "what do you wish to conqueror before you perish?"

tegan: "i wish to climb machu pichu."

chelsea: "i wish to write a book."

jess: "i don't quite know yet......"

jenn: "i wish to live in brasil."

etc

etc

etc

me: "i wish to write a memoir about my childhood, but only after my parents die because i dont wan't to bring shame to them........then, it is all about following natalie to chateau crone. let's all live in a home where we can grow old and craggy together, being, existing, creating....."

i want to be reading or laughing or painting up to the very day i die, and i want to do it with you.

utopia.

blisssss.

decadent.

how dare we live such decadent lives. will someone start feeding me grapes?

i want to be deborah rhea when i grow up. she is the hottest woman in this town.

good night, time to go throw up, literally.

12 bottles this evening, i counted.

nostalgia

today it rained. the changing of seasons always evokes feelings of nostalgia within me. tonight Erin and i were sitting on the porch, it must have been 2 am. suddenly, all of the street lights on the entire block went out...mind you, being that it was early morning and most normal folks were as expected, snuggled deep in their beds...i was surprised at how much quieter everything seemed without electricity present.

erin and i wandered indoors and marveled at the fact that our home was doing just fine, all lights were still on...somehow we got to talking about books....ahh, i mentioned that i really am interested in reading some kurt vonnegut---i feel like i am missing out on some of the classics, and for some reason erin mention the book '1984' and i brought up 'the giver', then we went on a tangent talking about childrens books that i've always loved...'the bridge to terabithia,' anything by roald dahl, 'a wrinkle in time,' 'where the red fern grows,' 'island of the blue dolphins,' 'from the mixed-up files of mrs. basil e. frankweiler,' 'the lion, the witch, and the wardrobe'---(and 'prince caspian' and 'the voyage of the dawn treader'), 'james and the giant peach,' 'the little prince'.

...then the stuff when we were even younger, such as 'where the wild things are'...'the giving tree.'

...nostalgia.

childrens literature really brings back feelings for me...evokes really strong memories and scents. i remember the whole holding of the flashlight under the covers at night, reading...waking up at 6am the next morning to read. i feel as if today's 'gossip girl' and the 'twilight' series...it's all fucking trash. i mean, when we were young, sure there was pretty goofy stuff....the 'baby sitters club' and also 'goosebumps...' or 'the boxcar children' (pretty awesome actually)...but where is the 2009 version of 'the giver?' do you guys remember 'the giver?' everyone was living in a sterile futuristic society, and the one man, the giver, he was a keeper of memories about life on earth in the days past...he held sessions with that one boy (or girl?) and made him/her remember things about life before...before things got so sterile and fucked up...things we dare not forget......such as what it felt like to be on a sailboat.

ahhh i hope today's kids have something poignant to read. maybe they read the same stuff we did. maybe 'a wrinkle in time' is to today's young children what the now-vintage 'nancy drew' and 'hardy boys' series was to us--stuff our parents read when they were young and then passed down to us.

lost gifts

*this is a rant. to be shaken not stirred, and taken with a grain of salt.*

i've been in a sour mood lately. amongst other things, my teeth have been bothering me so much that finally i've broken down and called upon my grandmother to lend me a thousand bucks so that i can take the steps towards getting a root canal. (really, i need more in the ball park of $3,000 to even get started...should i hold a benefit? everyone else does.) for those of you that know me and my pride--my asking my family for help....this is huge.

root canal shmoot canal, there is certainly an exposed root in my mouth, such that i cannot sufficiently close my lips all the way lest my teeth touch together and the pain, the fucking pain! to live in pain...bless you those that have terminal illness or live with ailments. you are infinitely strong....holy stars, these nights i've taken to stuffing a rag of fabric between my molars so that my mouth is pried open as i sleep. it doesn't make me look pretty, this is for sure. the rag fills with blood but it helps because i often grind my teeth in my REM and it makes me awaken in blinding white suffering and even my pillow is not soft enough for my silly noggin to rest.

so, with this said, the other night i was down in the dumps, brooding, i had fitfully awoken from the night before finally, at 5 pm. it was disorientating to have slept both the day away. i thought it a good idea to take a walk to peets coffee at least to get some afternoon air before it became dark again. when i arrived at the cafe i noticed that i had dropped my beautiful black vintage shirt somewhere between the house and said destination. it was i believe the last thing lauren ever gave me before we decided to part ways. she had brought it back from one of her many tours on the road. this made my heart sink as i retraced my steps. i could not find the shirt...but there! i saw an old woman in a motorized wheelchair headed away from my location back along where i had come from. holy stars! convinced she had my shirt, i tried to catch up to her but she was purring along damn fast. i quickened my pace and pretty much power walking i finally was beside her. i did not see my shirt and did not want to confront her. what if i was wrong? im a huge dork to be power walking beside a woman in a wheelchair! AWKWARD!! i gave the entire situation up as lost, and saw it as a sad sign from above.

so, with my tail between my legs, i realized it was 6pm and fuck getting coffee, i'd had not a morsel to eat that day thus far. i headed to my workplace, because at least there, people knew my name and i could read the newspaper while feeling sorry for myself, my lost shirt, my painful teeth...pooooor me. (what is that 'cheers' theme song? where everybody knows your name?)

so there i sat, outside, eating some vegetarian pasta to which i added ham. (ha!)

lost in my head reading the new york times i noticed at some point, out of my peripheral, an older man was staring at me. STARING. he was the same man that earlier was complaining how his friend took him to the depot and he was not gay, why did his friend take him there, he was not gay, he is from chicago, people are not as "gay" in Chicago...why are they so gay here...etc.........this man, now staring at me, was not sitting at a table eating dinner, perhaps glancing my way a bit like leery people sometimes do.... no, he was standing, not a drink in hand, 7 feet away, staring at me. weird. after about 15 more seconds which seemed like eternity, i looked at him and said, "what???"

he said, "your feet are on the chair. that is rude. people will sit on that chair after you."

hmm. yes. my feet are on the chair...i can see this being rude, being in a public place...ok...

i said, "ok....thank you for your opinion."

he said, "it is not an opinion. it is a fact."

ok. i'll take it. ok.

he went inside.

half an hour later he came back out. he moved back into position, staring at me.

me: "what????"

he said "sorry if i offended you."

me: "you did not offend me, you just made me feel uncomfortable and weird."

he then stared at me again.

then he said, "are you a student?"

ok. pause.

what is it about creepy guys that if they have nothing else to say, they ask if you are in school? what does this entail, what does this even mean? women can be creepy too, but in a different way.

this guy wasn't just ignorant. he was a weird creep.

so, i said: "why are you asking me if i am a student? you dont care."

he stared at me.

i repeated, "why are you asking me? you don't care who i am, you don't care what i do."

and it is true. he did not care who i was or what i did, he just wanted to invade my space and i let him know that i knew. so, he did not know what to say. for the first fucking time in his life, perhaps he did not know what to say to the little asian girl eating her god damned pasta, all by herself, looking all so like prey.

dumbfounded.

then, his verrry drunk friend came out, and to him the guy who liked to stare said to him: "let's go, there are DIRTY people here."

good. goodbye.

what is it about people sometimes? there is the age-old joke about how feminist women do not have a sense of humor....that all we do is march around trying to cut off cocks....but look---guys especially if you are reading this--it isn't fucking true for me. i can take a joke, i can laugh...

a friend of mine asked me once why i like to have ladies movie nights and ladies dinners once in awhile. he said it hurt his feelings because he was excluded.

i told him, that once in a while, i would like to have a female-centric gathering where i knew, no one would tread across that line, no one would make me feel like i was a second class citizen-----i am not saying that most of the guys we know are trying to belittle women right and left, no not at all-----but sometimes there are comments made, or little remarks, little nuances......and look here, it takes a rare man, a gem of a man, to be a feminist in his own right, to fully understand where a female feminist if coming from. then, we start to delve into gender itself being a grey topic, with trans men, trans women, etc etc.....but for simplicity, there are a few good men here in sac for certain. but unfortunately even some nice guys i know feel like they want to overcompensate such that they do the whole chivalrous 'ninja/i will protect you/thing...and frankly, thanks but i dont need protecting because im a woman and you are a man. dont talk to me in ninja speak....the ninja/samurai/protection/servitude thing---it's extra insulting because now i know you are doing this because im a woman AND japanese. great. but look, im not an idiot, if i was getting beat up by a group of people i wouldn't get mad at my guy friend if he tried to protect me.

i understand that:

it is not always about gender, sometimes it is about humanity. (obviously.)

and yes, there are men here in this town who do understand...but as for ladies movie night, sometimes frankly, i just like to be with ladies. it's nice.

so my friend, he did not understand this, which i understood that he could not understand.

this was more than ok with me and figured he would just nod his head and agree to disagree.

but then, he said something that i will never forget.

he said: "but i just dont get it. i do not feel like it is a white man's world any longer."

wowwwww.

do you really believe this? that perhaps maybe if we would just IGNORE the (*insert drum roll accompanied by a huge yawn here*) issues of gender/class/race/sexuality/ignorance/prejudice...maybe they do not exist?

no. there is much to be done. we are not equal. for example allow me to randomly state:

there are more females now, being kidnapped and sold into the sex trade than any other time in history. forget the rape of nan king. forget the holocaust. forget the plantations and slavery. girls, NOW. the middle east, africa---fucking Los Angeles is a BREEDING ground for sex trafficking.

and a nod to the 'gay' stuff (because i'm 'gay':)

matthew sheppard. brandon teena. harvey fucking milk. i overheard my coworker tonight saying something about how he thought his brother was 'GAY'...

i understand that hardship is part of life and that we all deal with it, all genders, race. people are bigoted everywhere, no matter where. men, women, the like.

but it should be noted that my friend is a white, heterosexual male. white hetero males have shit piled up against them too. they can argue that they didn't ask to be born white. (poor poor) im not stupid. life is life. shit is shit. but for him it is different shit.

i, am a lesbian, ethnic, female. different shit.

out of the ball park.

to be fair, even many of the females that i know...it blows my mind what negative gender roles they reinforce, on purpose. i guess you can carry my heavy groceries but it's not because you are a man. it's because im feeling lazy.

i understand it is not always about male chivalry. sometimes it is about being a nice person. I'm not going to snap at you if you hold the door.

i don't even know what my point is any longer....it all started out about the tooth thing.

what can i do that will fill in the void and why am i 26 years old sitting on a creaky ass porch?

shame on me for being here, not there.

i know it it supposed to be all about love. love can change the world, right? fairies and prayer circles and throwing rice off the back of a truck?

but sometimes, what about anger?


i will log off now.

hey me, please let me be

i've been having trouble sleeping lately. my schedule is even worse than before---with the late hours at my job these past four years i've become accustomed to turning out the light at 2 or 3 am and awakening around 11 or noon...but these past few weeks the pattern has become more around the realms of 5 am to fall asleep, and 1 or 2 pm to awaken. (i need a good 8 hours minimum to function.)

it is my brain that is the problem, it never lets me rest; it buzzes and hums and never shuts off. i've been trying to curb this shit the past few years...and because of it sometimes i seem more quiet or seemingly brooding than anything else--only at times. ha! but good lord, there are the instances i blurt out random phrases when im in 'the zone', i try but i have a hard time shutting my damn face...sometimes i am on a roll and saying something stupid ('stupid,' as in 'huh?' not to be confused with 'mean.') and the entire time i am saying it..i am thinking "shut up, will you just shut up you are being stupid.'

*in writing this blog entry at this moment, i am treating myself, allowing my fingers to type type type and let out all the random gibberish that is flowing through my mind currently while i sit here on the porch at 2:46 am; i guess this proves my point.*

my body is connected to my brain; there is constant high energy, i get out right twitchy even, sometimes. the lights and beeps and electro bleeps bounce around to and fro, knocking into each other, splashing green and pink paint every-fucking-where...you can see it in my face or speech or hands sometimes. some of you have seen this.

i have considered this a gift here and there, but lately it has been a plague. my brain toys with me and fucks with me and i stress myself into a frenzy, thinking 'if i keep thinking, i will develop an anxiety attack, and if i keep thinking about how im thinking, it will REALLY get bad...oh fuck' and there i am, in no man's land, in that distant land where many of us have been, but THIS place only I can get to, and i can't get out until something deeper inside of me allows the rest of me to let go.

there is never very good warning.

ahh. so, i have been having trouble sleeping lately. there has been an extra darkness, to be expected, i've been thinking even more than usual, thinking about people that i know, how they affect me, my future, my teeth are fucked...i've been stressed about it...my mouth hurts all the time but more at night. sometimes when i awaken in the morning there is blood on my pillow. LOOK i know i need to get insurance and all that taken care of, stop shaking your index fingers at me. i am deathly afraid of the dentist; i've never had much of a sweet tooth, but as a child i had cavities all the time-the dentist said once that i have unnaturally soft enamel...but each cavity that happened i would be severely punished by my parents...my brother had a sparkling white grill the entire time, so surely i must be a ragamuffin child too lazy to brush the sweaters off her molars.....shit was there any way my brother could ever go wrong and i go right??...ahh that is for another day.

let it go.

sleep.

night is weird. sometimes i feel that the more delirious i become the more i feel alive. i am sure many of us feel this way. i sit out here and listen to the trains go by, the wind in the leaves, the drunk folks stumbling...then as the time ticks by, the sounds become less and less and eventually it is just me and my holy mackerel of-a-brain pounding away, pounding away. i am left to myself. currently i am not alone though. i hear music coming from somewhere, big rigs blowing horns from the freeway, i head one lone cricket, a car just went by, i see a raccoon.

sleep.

my dreams were vivid last night. i was not permitted to rest, even in my REM state. i awoke feeling dog tired....but the dreams were very intriguing, super crystal clear.

i wonder what the significance is. i always become confused, because in japanese culture, whatever happens in dreams, in real life the opposite is indicated. but in american culture, we kind of tend to think what we dream is a subconscious of what we actually feel.

last night in my minds eye i was standing in a natural foods store with sarah, (my friend who is in 'take back midtown' with me and used to live across the street from me at the brothel/carnival house). i wonder what it means that she was in my dream. we are not super close par say (i would like to be) and i have not seen her nor spoken to her in days.

we were standing in line at the checkout. it was very busy. the line was very long. i was holding a woven basket and in the basket were two bananas. they looked like plantain but i knew they were bananas. as the minutes ticked by, the fruit started to rot. so, it made sense for me to eat both, and i grabbed two more. once again, the bananas started to rot, and this time the meat even burst out from the peels.

nearing the checkout, sarah grabbed a small plastic tub of trail mix/mixed nuts and asked me to purchase it for her. i agreed, and upon ringing out, the cashier stopped in his tracks and readily told me that the nuts represented unrequited love.

look, the phrase 'unrequited love' stuck with me even this morning when i awoke, and although i know what it means, i looked up the definition just to see it in print: "to be deeply in love with someone that either does not know you love them, or that knows, but does not love you in return." ok.

after leaving the natural foods store, sarah was gone and i was teleported to someplace where i was emailing jenny hoyston from the band erase errata. i had a drag show approaching and for some reason it was homo a gogo weekend. it was like my real-life past came forward from behind and bit me in the butt of my dream-life future. i was requesting jenny to play a set during my drag show. i for some reason offered her specifically $234 dollars to play. she generously responded with an email saying that she never plays for less than $400 but for me she would play for free. (i dont know jenny hoyston in real life, fyi. she is a famous, feminist, awesome musician for those that dont know)

so, i was teleported forward a few days, and i was with lauren, jenny, and her three band mates. (two female, one male...the ladies were adorable, in their 30's, wearing awesome vintage dresses. i remember the brunette had wavy hair and a navy colored polka dot dress...the other lady was a red head and she was all glammed up like a lady from the 1940's. very world war II-meets cocktail party..the man was very 50's styled with a pomp and cuffed jeans around his proper waist. he was not cheesy; he was very polished)

we were walking on cobblestone streets. the shy was grey. it was fall. i think we were in europe but it was actually san fransisco, if this makes any sense.

as jenny and her band mates walked on ahead, lauren asked me in excited hushed tones "what is SHE doing here with us????!!!" i explained that jenny was going to play a set with me and lauren was uuber impressed.

fast forward to the venue. it was actually a gigantic warehouse with day light filtering in through high windows all around the upper walls. the warehouse contained books upon books; it was a library. all of the shelving was crooked. it was gorgeous and bizarre. i told jenny that i wished i could turn the entire place into a living space. in real life now, i realize that would have been an atrocity; that library was gorgeous and VAST and probably does not exhist in this real world.

it was decided that we would perform on top of a large wooden table.

jenny was about to go on but i could not find lauren.

they went on anyhow, and it was truly a sight to behold. they were doing a conga and weird hand jive moves, all to the vocal style of the andrews sisters, very 40's/50's, very 'boogie woogie bugle boy'....which should be mentioned, is NOT erase errata's musical style in real life.

next it was my turn to perform my drag number 'jet boy jet girl.' i realized in a sudden panic that erin wasn't there to perform her parts with me.

thus, i decided to wing it and perform only my parts. this ended up looking completely stupid because in real life that song is truly meant for me and erin to share. we interact half the time, there is no way i could perform it without her and her without me. i ended up looking like a bad mime.

...suddenly after it was all over lauren came pounding on the door. it was a medievel castle door. i asked her where she had run off to and she said she was hungry. thanks.

*and then i woke up*

it was almost 1 in the afternoon when i awoke today, and it was not my alarm that shook me, it was my screen door blowing open then closed. i have been super sore all day, my entire body is stiff and i dont know why. was i dancing in my sleep? am i that stressed out?

i wonder the significance of my dreams....some of it seems obvious but nothing ever is.

nothing EVER is.

alright, in conclusion, i am hoping to get to bed before 5 today.

i am going to close this laptop now and ramble to myself in my head. i've had a fear that by age 40 i will go insane because my poor brain will NEVER log off. i really need some space from me sometimes but it looks like that is never going to happen....i would write more frankly but this is a public blog and somethings just start to get embarassing for the reader and the writer. but lets get coffee!

i'd rather run with the wolves anyhow...for the most part. or have friends in the real life flesh.

good night cyber world, good night.