here is the title!

for my gay "love duet" it is...........

Fine. [stomps off]

can you help but love it? no.

friends

my brilliant friend Carrie wrote this (in response to the bullshit below) to me the other day.

"People are way fuckin complicated...and most people really don't know
or understand themselves enough to communicate clearly to another human being. perhaps because she is scared or worried about drinking or whatever she has been acting out to create drama as a distraction or as a way of getting some need met...who knows...sometimes as we know people better we see what they do or understand their patterns better, but the subtext is always more of what is really going on and you just need tools to get to that place faster and not be in drama which usually has nothing to do w/nothing...as long as 2-people can be conscious of that effort and do their best towards it it is usually pretty groovy and never perfect which is groovy in its own right."

carrie is the cutest. and smart, too. like all my family.

one more time

dear you,

i like you a lot. i totally fell for you and i think, in spite of all of it, that you're pretty damn good for me. you tricked me into opening my heart and letting you in, and i'm so glad. this is the cheesiest love song ever.

the thing is, i know you have a lot of shit to work through, and i want to be supportive, and i want to be encouraging, and i don't really exactly know how to do that without feeling nagg-y or like your icky wife.

cause you got one of those to get over (or whatever) already. i am not trying to jump into that hole in your lifestyle.

so that's why sometimes it feels kinda cold over here, and why i'm not jumping to nurse you back to health after a fucking binge, sniffling on the phone. please.

so go, get better, do it. i'm behind you (hm) and all for it, cause i still have the same story- i think you're wonderful. i want you to be able to live it, and if it means you go far away, fine. but not if you just go far away in your mind, cause i am not trying to be the one who punishes you when you regain consciousness.

that's your business.

this message is a lot harder than i meant it to be. huh.

hm. yeah what is this?

i have to start making a new dance. on tuesday. well, today, in fact, and then i have to teach it to my favorite girl performers starting tuesday. at 9:30am. in berkeley. jesus.

so i made up some moves, and i played the music over and over, but what the hell is this dance about. i think it's about giving in. about not wanting to, like, at all, and sucking it up and giving it up to somebody.

sooo gay.

cause i made the one dance, about "everything i think is nice is fucked."
and then the next dance was "i keep committing to fucked up shit and it sucks and i am over it."
and so this one, the coda that brings the two "characters" together, is about working within that knowledge. that fine everything is fucked, and even if i commit myself to this it might just suck and let me down and fuck it fine i am diving in anyway. handing over the reins to someone else (who may be doing the same thing in which case who is driving this thing?? and i love that idea the most), throwing up my hands, ripping open my heart, going for it.

here i am baby. come and take me. or, that is, here i am baby, take that. take this, and this and this. fine.

[stomps off]

juxtaposition

this show i saw last night made me really uncomfortable. and really appreciative, of the artists' openness, rawness, vulnerability- but in the end it made me feel sad. it made me feel like the world is kind of sad, like we are all a little doomed like is this the only way to find wholeness? to subject audiences to your shedding skin?

cause i really hate that feeling. i really hate being reminded. i really need to be affirmed when i make good choices (like going to jon sims to support emerging artists who are cute), and i don't like being told that my mother's going to disappear, that i'm going to stub my toe when i'm dancing.

todd has pneumonia, archana's mom is so sick that arch is going to visit, and dwayne is getting alternately sicker and louder. there is enough reason to be sad, okay, and so fuck art that makes you sad too. fuck it for real.

except when i'm sad because some bitch is pulling drama and i can't add all my stupid credit card balances to one big 0% card, even for 6 months, and i really need to listen to some sad music. i think music is a different thing, because like reading, it can be sooo private. here is a song i wrote, listen to it in your private space. here is a book i wrote, you may never see my face beyond my dust jacket.

but performance is let me invade your day, let me exist and share your air, let me take you out of the beautiful weather and tell you something. all i'm saying is if that's what i'm asking, i had better have something good to share.

so there. thank you for being my friend.

in other news

i took a little two day trip to reno and it was super fun. i took two days off computer jobs to live out my dancer job and it rocked. driving with sweet people who rock and have great music, dancing and drinking yummy acai juice and working out and eating some more before we danced a lot more.

i love this shit. thank you jesus for it.

here's some news

i am too tired for blogging, but apparently i'm too tired for sleeping too, and have let my appetite be ignored for far too long. i need to learn, see, about regulating my blood sugar. i am way too familiar with the feeling of hunger lately. so familiar i don't really even feel it until i get really tired, really grumpy, really pissed off fatalistic depressed.

i know this because a banana, or a cracker with cheese, or a burger, sometimes, can make me a new, energized woman. and i have to wonder if the depression i went through in high school, in addition to having not a clue about my soul (which isn't true, rebecca, give yourself some credit) may have been integrally linked to the anorexia/sugar binging i made my lifestyle.

and so here we are, congested, sniffling, losing weight and pissed at the girl for getting drunk and fucking somebody who has more fun and less schedule than i do, cranky because she called off tonight. because that was my job. god, woman, get a grip. and a meal plan that's just a little better.

love

thank you

for telling me about what's going on in your world and in your head. for being delicious, for telling me eventually and gently to shut up, and for holding me and being held all through our sleep.

i'm in. i'm pretty sure you are too, it's so hot.