Monday, May 31, 2004
I went dancing every night this holiday weekend. Thursday night. Friday night. Saturday night. Sunday night. There were cute hippie boys playing psychadelic trance music, a disco cover band - everyone wearing huge colorful afro clown wigs, polyester pantsuits & platforms, then a night of Irish bands and djed music.
But last night I came unhinged. Un. hinged.
A house party with a bunch of my bestest friends. Bags of free clothes. Chunks of brie, sparkling drinks, flirtations, and an exciting evil plot to dis a no-good man.
Diana tried on a tie-dyed jumpsuit from the free-clothes pile. It was huge on her, and we laughed that two people could fit in there. Suddenly I was overtaken by the urge to see if I could fit in too. I climbed into the legs, then we got the sleeves on. We tried walking and dancing - one creature, two butts, our knees and feet going opposite directions. Finally we fell over, shrieking with laughter, and crawled out.
Then Liz played Sir Mixalot's Baby got Back and for some reason I just had to stick a pillow up behind my dress and wag it around ferociously. "Sometimes I wish I had something to work with back there!" I shouted.
The DJ put on Madonna's Material Girl, and Dave fake-bowed to me and Mikki says "Do the Material Girl thing!!" So of course I do, knowing the video by heart. I put my arms out and get picked up and carried around the room. "I'm wearing a thong!" I screech - "put me back down!"
Then I retired to the powder room for a moment to myself. The minute I was finished washing my hands, I flipped off the light only to realize I had locked myself in.
A fantastic end to a fantastic evening!
If anyone remembers anything else, please let me know.
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But last night I came unhinged. Un. hinged.
A house party with a bunch of my bestest friends. Bags of free clothes. Chunks of brie, sparkling drinks, flirtations, and an exciting evil plot to dis a no-good man.
Diana tried on a tie-dyed jumpsuit from the free-clothes pile. It was huge on her, and we laughed that two people could fit in there. Suddenly I was overtaken by the urge to see if I could fit in too. I climbed into the legs, then we got the sleeves on. We tried walking and dancing - one creature, two butts, our knees and feet going opposite directions. Finally we fell over, shrieking with laughter, and crawled out.
Then Liz played Sir Mixalot's Baby got Back and for some reason I just had to stick a pillow up behind my dress and wag it around ferociously. "Sometimes I wish I had something to work with back there!" I shouted.
The DJ put on Madonna's Material Girl, and Dave fake-bowed to me and Mikki says "Do the Material Girl thing!!" So of course I do, knowing the video by heart. I put my arms out and get picked up and carried around the room. "I'm wearing a thong!" I screech - "put me back down!"
Then I retired to the powder room for a moment to myself. The minute I was finished washing my hands, I flipped off the light only to realize I had locked myself in.
A fantastic end to a fantastic evening!
If anyone remembers anything else, please let me know.
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Friday, May 28, 2004
A few weeks ago, Len had a Sunday evening gathering. We lay on pillows or sat on the floor around a big bowl of grapes, a wheel of brie, and bread fresh from the oven. We talked about a lot of things, relationships, mad cow disease, exciting gossip about others in our community. There was a lot of laughing - not even mad cow was taken seriously. Alex said she would do tarot readings for anyone who wanted one. A few people accepted. Later that night, she had us all pull one card from the deck, then she explained the card to us.
The card I pulled was the King of Cups. The picture was of a beautiful young blonde king with a beard, seated upon a throne. The throne was a huge flower carved out of gray stone, floating calmly on the ocean. Alex said it denoted extreme emotional stability.
Last night I went with some girlfriends to see a band they loved, but I'd never seen before. The music was beautiful - very melodic and emotional, very spiritual and positive. The three guys in the band simply radiated positive spiritual masculinity. It was something I hadn't seen in a long time, and I felt it - the music, their energy - literally healing me, healing my heart and my body. And strangely enough, the flute player looked exactly like the king on my tarot card.
I don't think I'm necessarily meant to be with him, even though he was rather cute, but it seemed like a sign of some sort. A clue that I might be going in the right direction.
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The card I pulled was the King of Cups. The picture was of a beautiful young blonde king with a beard, seated upon a throne. The throne was a huge flower carved out of gray stone, floating calmly on the ocean. Alex said it denoted extreme emotional stability.
Last night I went with some girlfriends to see a band they loved, but I'd never seen before. The music was beautiful - very melodic and emotional, very spiritual and positive. The three guys in the band simply radiated positive spiritual masculinity. It was something I hadn't seen in a long time, and I felt it - the music, their energy - literally healing me, healing my heart and my body. And strangely enough, the flute player looked exactly like the king on my tarot card.
I don't think I'm necessarily meant to be with him, even though he was rather cute, but it seemed like a sign of some sort. A clue that I might be going in the right direction.
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Tuesday, May 25, 2004
I’ve been treating myself like a Hollywood star this week, or like someone preparing for a marathon. Exercising every day - cardio & strength, eating really well - smoothies full of fresh fruit, salads with toasted nuts & apples, plenty of protein. I’m focused. I meditate every evening. Take baths with candles and aromatherapy oils. If I were an actress, someone might think I was preparing for a role. Strangely enough, I am. I’m preparing for the role of Girl Who Doesn’t Fall Apart When Her Boyfriend Dumps Her For Reading His Journal.
I’ve got a lot of work to do. I have almost every minute of this weekend planned. I’ve got to keep my eye on the ball.
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I’ve got a lot of work to do. I have almost every minute of this weekend planned. I’ve got to keep my eye on the ball.
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Okay, so did the attractive young guy in the suit who said "good afternoon" to me just now look like Vaughn or what?! He did, he totally did!
If Vaughn is in town, I'm totally taking the afternoon off to stalk him.
Probably all that spy gear will warn him about girl stalkers, though. Feh.
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If Vaughn is in town, I'm totally taking the afternoon off to stalk him.
Probably all that spy gear will warn him about girl stalkers, though. Feh.
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Monday, May 24, 2004
I think I'm most jealous in the spring of people who own their homes. Or maybe the fall. Actually I think I'm jealous year-round of homeowners. It's most acute now, though, with peonies and lilacs in full bloom. Lilies of the valley have faded, and purple irises have just begun to bud. The air is thick and sweet with the scent of flowers and freshly mown grass.
I've just told a secret to the last person I should have told it to: the person it's about. It's such a beautiful time of year and I want to be in love and walking around twitterpated - instead I'm sad and worried.
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I've just told a secret to the last person I should have told it to: the person it's about. It's such a beautiful time of year and I want to be in love and walking around twitterpated - instead I'm sad and worried.
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Wednesday, May 19, 2004
Yesterday a nice-looking young man stopped me in the street. "Are you from around here?"
He had a black cowboy hat on, and friendly eyes. Maybe a touch of a southern accent. "Why, are you lost?"
"I just wanted to find a better place than Dunkin Donuts for coffee." "Oh!" So I told him where to get good coffee.
Later in another town, I see the same guy sitting on a bench reading. "Did you get your coffee?" I ask.
"Yes, I did. Are you following me around?" with a smile.
"No, sorry, I'm not."
I like that. Friendly exchanges still happen sometimes.
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He had a black cowboy hat on, and friendly eyes. Maybe a touch of a southern accent. "Why, are you lost?"
"I just wanted to find a better place than Dunkin Donuts for coffee." "Oh!" So I told him where to get good coffee.
Later in another town, I see the same guy sitting on a bench reading. "Did you get your coffee?" I ask.
"Yes, I did. Are you following me around?" with a smile.
"No, sorry, I'm not."
I like that. Friendly exchanges still happen sometimes.
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Tuesday, May 18, 2004
It's taken me this long to blog about Saturday because it's taken me this long to recover from Saturday. And I wasn't even drinking!
For a warm-up, I went to the Frolic. It was the first outdoor frolic of the year, and it didn't disappoint. There were fire-twirlers, and cute boys hula-hooping. I danced on the stage, I danced on the grass, I hung out by the bonfire.
Then Ann invited me to another party.
It was in a church downtown, a church this gay couple bought to live in. The theme: come as your favorite rockstar.
I was just in my dance clothes, but I fluffed out my hair and Ann lent me some red red lipstick. The music was deafening even on the street. The doors to the church were wide open, punks and rock stars hanging out smoking on the steps. Christmas lights thrown everywhere. We walked in and were greeted by Billy Idol, who was thrilled we were there. We went through a living area into... the sanctuary. 50 foot vaulted ceilings, a dj spinning amazing music, light shows and videos projected onto the walls and hanging screens. Food tables, brownies, wine, booze and A CHOCOLATE CAKE the size of a table.
Billy Idol took the stage and lip-synced to one of his own songs. Billy Idol was the birthday boy. He crawled down the steps upside down. He humped the floor. We all screamed and clapped, fulfilling his teenage fantasy, I'm sure.
There was a lot of dancing. Drinking. Someone smoked a huge joint near me on the dance floor and I felt woozy. I ate a lot of cake.
I felt perfectly at home there. I felt so free in that insane, ostentatious, anything-goes world. I was so happy eating chocolate cake, sucking frosting off my fingers watching a faux Billy Idol gyrate while the rock stars of the world danced and got high all around in a dreamlike haze.
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For a warm-up, I went to the Frolic. It was the first outdoor frolic of the year, and it didn't disappoint. There were fire-twirlers, and cute boys hula-hooping. I danced on the stage, I danced on the grass, I hung out by the bonfire.
Then Ann invited me to another party.
It was in a church downtown, a church this gay couple bought to live in. The theme: come as your favorite rockstar.
I was just in my dance clothes, but I fluffed out my hair and Ann lent me some red red lipstick. The music was deafening even on the street. The doors to the church were wide open, punks and rock stars hanging out smoking on the steps. Christmas lights thrown everywhere. We walked in and were greeted by Billy Idol, who was thrilled we were there. We went through a living area into... the sanctuary. 50 foot vaulted ceilings, a dj spinning amazing music, light shows and videos projected onto the walls and hanging screens. Food tables, brownies, wine, booze and A CHOCOLATE CAKE the size of a table.
Billy Idol took the stage and lip-synced to one of his own songs. Billy Idol was the birthday boy. He crawled down the steps upside down. He humped the floor. We all screamed and clapped, fulfilling his teenage fantasy, I'm sure.
There was a lot of dancing. Drinking. Someone smoked a huge joint near me on the dance floor and I felt woozy. I ate a lot of cake.
I felt perfectly at home there. I felt so free in that insane, ostentatious, anything-goes world. I was so happy eating chocolate cake, sucking frosting off my fingers watching a faux Billy Idol gyrate while the rock stars of the world danced and got high all around in a dreamlike haze.
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Wednesday, May 12, 2004
I've been looking for a job in New York City. Since December, I've scanned internet job sites and newspapers looking for the perfect job. I thought - this is NEW YORK! There will be so many jobs there! Such a variety of creative and satisfying different jobs! I'll simply pick one the one I want and prance on over to it!
Well, after 100 emailed, faxed, and snail-mailed resumes, a few responses and a few unpromising interviews, I'm getting the idea. The city is like anywhere else, only bigger.
I'm interviewing for a job as a dance therapist for homeless women in a shelter in Brooklyn - the most promising job so far. I need to get my foot in the door someplace, and this seems like a good place to put my foot.
Do you notice how I keep using the word "job"?
The more steps I take towards Brooklyn, the more attached I get to my leafy little home. I live in a little cottage surrounded by a high brick wall - you have to open a rounded green door in the wall to walk through the garden to my house. Behind my house is a forest filled with singing birds. I have neighbors, but the trees are so lush and leafy that I only see trees - leaves - flowers.
Tonight leaving work I almost drove back to my last real home, with Mark. I wanted to put on old sweats and mow the lawn. More than anything. I realized the other day that I'm not happy with my life now because I've been denying what I really want - and what I want is not a job. I want creative excitement in my life. I want a home and a family. Even if that family is a boy and some cats at the moment. I want my own garden. I want to nurture things around me - little plants, little children, sweetness in my world.
However, a big part of me wants to see just how big the world is first. I want to dance in Greece's Olympic Games with the other Isadora Duncan dancers. I want to be recognized and seen for who I am and what I can do. I want to stretch my own boundaries - I want to see how big I can be and what I can make of myself.
And then, after I've seen this - or had enough of it eventually - I'll settle down and go deeper, really put my roots in the soil and let them grow. And I can't help but think this is when I'll begin to really flower and grow, myself.
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Well, after 100 emailed, faxed, and snail-mailed resumes, a few responses and a few unpromising interviews, I'm getting the idea. The city is like anywhere else, only bigger.
I'm interviewing for a job as a dance therapist for homeless women in a shelter in Brooklyn - the most promising job so far. I need to get my foot in the door someplace, and this seems like a good place to put my foot.
Do you notice how I keep using the word "job"?
The more steps I take towards Brooklyn, the more attached I get to my leafy little home. I live in a little cottage surrounded by a high brick wall - you have to open a rounded green door in the wall to walk through the garden to my house. Behind my house is a forest filled with singing birds. I have neighbors, but the trees are so lush and leafy that I only see trees - leaves - flowers.
Tonight leaving work I almost drove back to my last real home, with Mark. I wanted to put on old sweats and mow the lawn. More than anything. I realized the other day that I'm not happy with my life now because I've been denying what I really want - and what I want is not a job. I want creative excitement in my life. I want a home and a family. Even if that family is a boy and some cats at the moment. I want my own garden. I want to nurture things around me - little plants, little children, sweetness in my world.
However, a big part of me wants to see just how big the world is first. I want to dance in Greece's Olympic Games with the other Isadora Duncan dancers. I want to be recognized and seen for who I am and what I can do. I want to stretch my own boundaries - I want to see how big I can be and what I can make of myself.
And then, after I've seen this - or had enough of it eventually - I'll settle down and go deeper, really put my roots in the soil and let them grow. And I can't help but think this is when I'll begin to really flower and grow, myself.
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Okay, Dawn said I had to update my blog because my last post is depressing, so here I go!
Each post is a snapshot, an emotional moment in time. We all know that. The trouble is that like bad photos, they are immortalized forever.
I've been rationalizing my not blogging with the idea that... I'm actually living! Which is true, and at the same time I've realized that blogging helps me make sense out of all that raw material, all that living.
So I'm going to be catching up with all the blogging I've been doing in my head. Watch for catch-up blog entries coming soon!
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Each post is a snapshot, an emotional moment in time. We all know that. The trouble is that like bad photos, they are immortalized forever.
I've been rationalizing my not blogging with the idea that... I'm actually living! Which is true, and at the same time I've realized that blogging helps me make sense out of all that raw material, all that living.
So I'm going to be catching up with all the blogging I've been doing in my head. Watch for catch-up blog entries coming soon!
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