yes i will

i *will* delete nasty comments.

or distasteful comments.

or cruel comments. or irrelevant comments. or utterly moronic comments (you should be grateful, actually; i'm preventing the other readers from realizing what an ass you are).

or any comments i choose, just because i feel like it.

just a reminder that this is my space and i'm going to keep it clear of shit and weeds.

(especially you assholes who post crap anonymously. fucking cowards. i save most of my contempt for you.)

missing

what? what is it? compassion only confuses me, clouds the issues. i don't know. i don't know. i'm thirsty, i'm hungry, i'm alone, i'm not. i smoke, i drink, i wish i didn't smoke, i want to drink more. i need money, i hate money, i want to live without money.

i want a cigarette. a piece of chocolate cake. i feel fat. i need a haircut, a job, a car, a - what?

love, i've got; vacation, it's coming. what else what else what else?

yes, maybe: talent, and motivation. that's what's missing. god damn it give me something to do, something to believe in, something outside of myself to make me forget how small the world is and how short is life.

tidal waves

i often dream about water. last night i had a very vivid dream about a tidal wave. we were in a giant airplane hangar which had been turned into a film set, and we were trying to recreate a tidal wave in a huge pool. it was going well but it was very dangerous. it felt realistic, with natural-looking rocks and salty sea spray. i was standing off to the side trying to shoot. chris groves was on the other side - i could barely see him - trying to manipulate the wave. there were lots of other people running around.

at one point the wave came very close to me and got my clothes wet. i slipped on a rock. i thought i would be pulled under but i managed to stay clear.

there were several other details, but i've forgotten them.

ouch!

injuries sustained on set!

.... not really. that's a really good FX makeup job! seeing it made my skin prickle as if it actually had been slashed by Catwoman's claws.

more photos from the shoot here.

in studio

we're shooting a video this weekend, with our friend Amalia directing it. it started out as a simple concept - "videogames!" we said - and it rapidly became of a scope i never could have imagined. we have eleven cast members, a fight choreographer, two producers, the director, the camera guy and his assistants, various other folks whose jobs i don't understand but have to run around a lot, two make-up artists, and a caterer named Gus who routinely pops into the studio bearing plates of fresh fruit or mini-tacos or butterscotch brownies.

yesterday i trained for four hours on my fight scene, which lasts about - oh, thirty seconds? the chrises trained all day today for theirs. the stunt doubles are filming today. we are watching and learning and doing make-up/wardrobe tests.

it's a lot of sitting around. fortunately, there's free wireless. and cookies. and when it's time for me to go on, everyone is so supportive, so encouraging. learning fake kung fu is fun! the stunt people are incredible, and incredible to work with.

i could get used to this.

(and all this for a song that's less than four minutes long. wow.)

welcome to the mile high

about two months ago my friend lisa, also known as lisa nola, had a nightclub drop in her lap. several weeks of hard work and stress and many meetings with city officials later, the beautiful new club is ready to open! we took it for a test run last weekend, and it performed beautifully. after seeing the club in various states of disorder and hearing the tales of wrangling with paperwork and bureacracy it's so satisfying to know that it's about to open. lisa and i decided that your thirties is the perfect time to try something you've never done before. but in my opinion, if anyone is suited for running a nightclub, it's lisa. congratulations darling! it's a beautiful thing.

the mile high club
Grand Opening Week:
tuesday: June 29th - Grand Opening Party with Odessa Lil, The Mile High Meter Dancers, three sexy performances, and three delightful musical acts.
View the Friendster profile for a little more flavor.
wednesday: June 30th - Our chef Drew cooking up menu treats while our special guest Djs play some great tunes.
thursday: July 1st - DJ Cubra Libre spinning "the hits" from the past 25 years for your feets. [NB This will also be the night of the Bon Voyage dance party for me and Jesse so you should definitely come!]
friday: July 2nd - Call and Response with Birds of America
"The music they compose is filled with rhythm, harmony, and warmth. Elements of classic pop, spacey jazz, film soundtracks, folk and soul music are only some of the musical inspirations..."
saturday: July 3rd - The Lovemakers with Boyjazz
"The Lovemakers record catchy synth-pop informed dance music, and put on a hot, bawdy live show."
"Boyjazz launches rock and roll into the distant future."

since i'm going away to france for five weeks i was thinking of having a going away party, maybe on thursday the dance night...? i love to dance.

second week

another therapy appointment today. i've been thinking about my therapist. i'm sure she is unshockable, unjudgemental, compassionate... but i wonder if i can tell her about all the crazy sex-drugs-rocknroll of my past. she reminds me of a high school principal - prim and proper, with neatly flipped blond hair and a bright pink blouse and khaki trousers. i don't feel she would "get" me.

but i'm going anyway. one session isn't enough to make a decision. and who knows? maybe under that pink blouse she's got a crazy rocker chick tattoo. that would be rad.

get out the spunk

saturday: spunky brewster and the mothballs rocked the new mile high club. (the grand opening will be next tuesday, the 29th!). the brewster kids will be playing again - a much longer set - this weekend at Cloyne Court, although i can't go as i'll be out of town. sorry to miss you guys!

some photos i took are here.

happy graduation, heather!

hijacked

my body doesn't belong to me anymore. last night i got violently ill after one drink. i felt fine all evening, and had just started on a second drink. (normally when i go out i have two drinks and that seems to be just the right balance between clarity and joyfully goofy obfuscation of the senses.) suddenly my vision blurred and i felt i had to sit very very still. it was a cool night with a breeze blowing in from the window but i felt hot and sweaty. the room seemed to close around me and a vague feeling of panic started fluttering in my breast. i tried to breathe slowly and told myself to just stay calm, concentrate, stay calm...

eventually i lay my head on the table and closed my eyes. the conversation swirled around me. i'm sure everyone noticed that i was not doing well, but happily they let me be for a few minutes, and then it was time to go home. miraculously i was able to steer myself down the stairs and out the bar. thank god i didn't have to get in a car, we just walked home.

and then i crawled into bed and passed out with my contacts still in. when i woke up this morning i felt as though my body had been taken over by aliens, or a virus. everything was woozy. i didn't have motor control over my fingers and hands. it was hard to walk. and i still felt ill. i felt so bad i didn't go to my D&D game this afternoon.

it's now four-thirty and i've tried to work but my brain doesn't function. i'm going to take a nap and see if i feel better.

jesse's playing in spunky brewster tonight. i have to go to that. but maybe i won't drink anything but water. i might not even smoke, either.

starting

i went to my first therapy appointment today. she asked why i had come to see her, and i explained that i felt sad a lot of the time and it was getting in the way of what i wanted and needed to do. and then i stopped. i really couldn't think of anything else. i was on the verge of deciding to myself that this therapy this was overrated and i should just not come back the next week. i could hear myself talking about my problems and it seemed so - trivial. "anything else?" she asked, and i wracked my brain, trying to find something to tell her...

god, am i going to be a failure in therapy too?

(that was sort of a joke).

nightmare

i had a nightmare last night. i woke up sweating and shivering. i wanted to wake him up so he could hold me but he was sleeping so soundly i didn't.

and now i don't even remember what it was - it's melted away, but the vague anxieties remain.

one more thing
it's damned insulting for you to tell me that this is my fault, that i could just WILL myself out of this. it doesn't work that way. i'm trying to help myself, exploring therapy, taking exercise, trying to find projects to keep my mind active and occupied, trying to go out to see friends, trying to talk to friends and family. but please don't tell me to snap out of it. if i could, i would have. i've tried. i've tried for so many years to just snap out of it.

i think it's a sign of my progress that this time, i'm not relying on myself but asking for help instead.

i'm going to turn off comments for a while. for my friends who've been understanding, thank you! you know i care for you. and for the complete strangers who've been understanding, i appreciate you too. your concern, however anonymous, has touched me and helped me.

but the rest of you can just be quiet for a while, okay? i don't need you to make me feel worse about myself.

sage

i dreamt i was in the city with audra. but it wasn't the real San Francisco, it was a mythical one that I have dreamt of before, with soaring highways that float far above the buildings and a huge park in the middle of the city housing a famous university. anyway we were there and having dinner. she was wearing black velvet and striped stockings. after dinner i offered to drive her home but she said she wanted to take me somewhere.

we went into a small brownstone house which had been repurposed as a book store. audra knew the owner and proprietor, an ageing man with a fringe of snowy white hair around his shiny bald head and little round scholarly glasses.

he had books piled all around him, even inside the fireplace. audra and i sat down and started browsing through his collection while he talked. the name of the store was Sage - "that's me," he explained with a grin.

other people came in, girls dressed in vintage frocks with short fashionably messy hair and dark stockings. two of them didn't like each other: one said to me petulantly, "why is *she* here?" i tried to be noncommittal, keep the peace. i suggested we have a party.

and then we had some ice cream. i wake up.

yes

it's supposed to be ugly.

there's nothing worse than seeing your website all pretty and cheery when you are feeling like you want to throw yourself into a smelly marsh. or maybe, like you just have.

but soon. soon it will all become ordered and aesthetically pleasing again.

and i shall take a shower and start dressing in clothes other than sweatpants. yes!

it's hot on stage

especially when you play guitar with your boyfriend.

this is what i did last night.

for an hour, i stepped outside of myself and enjoyed the high that comes from performing. the fact that jesse played with me made it even more electrifying than usual. i wanted to rush home and have lots of passionate sweaty sex but... predictably, after packing up and loading out and loading back in at the rehearsal space i was far too tired.

next time we should just go backstage for an hour or two...

how much

what can you ask of your friends? your family? your lover? where is the line between taking personal responsibility and asking for help? and what do you do when you ask and are told, "i'm sorry, i just can't do that"? i feel guilty for asking. i don't want to feel guilty.

i don't want to feel sad, either.

what does it mean to "be supportive"? it's not enough to just listen, is it? i suppose we are all different in what we want and what we expect and what we can give.

last night i saw a pale-colored bird fly west across the night sky, stately and slow and silent: auguring ill or well?

juin

maintenant c'est le mois de parler tout en français avec mon instructeur. ça va être dur ... nos conversations sont devenues très simples. je parle comme un enfant! on a remarqué que les voix changent dans les autres langues... ma voix, je pense, devient plus douce. lui, aussi, il parle un peu en bas. je l'ai dit, "tu ne sais pas quoi dire à une femme en anglais, mais en français tu sais bien comment la séduire..."