(no subject)

Does it make me less of a feminist to admit that right now I really want a big strong man to hold me and tell me he loves me?

He hides his head inside a dream.

Ack, it's been so long and there are so many random things of the past 5 days I want to write about but they kept getting pushed off because of more things I was doing that then I want to write about those to, so you know, just, hold on, buckle up. Its going to all come out non-chronologically in this freewrite.

First off, my beard is gone. I'm slightly traumatized by it, though I guess maybe only when I look in a mirror, not just while sitting around and doing things, though I do maybe like sometimes resting my face in my hands and the texture of roughness against it. Mostly, I'm just anxious for 3 weeks to pass and have it back. But! Don't let me whining fool you, it was worth it for the performance at Poonie's last night and it might be the Last 'Last Duet' and that was a great way to go out. Thank you to people who came out and cheered it on and for those who missed it (especially because you don't live here), it was documented and plans are in the works to make us youtube superstars. Today I'm having withdrawl because I haven't seen Coxy or Broqued, and I saw both of them on Friday, Saturday, Sunday and Monday. Friday was a house party where I drank two cosmos and talked to a stranger about NaNoWriMo, then I rolled around on the red fuzzy shag carpet while talking about the amazement of the Linda Carter medley I had watched before arriving. I also made a promise to make a mixtape about a torrid affair that does not exist, solely for the purpose of understanding the power of a good mixtape, even long after a relationship has expired. right now I'm sort of all about instigating biochemical/hormonal response merely with my imagination, not relying on any other person or situation in the world, its sort of game related to muse-conjuring, I think. I am getting better at it. Saturday morning I slept in and then we road-tripped to Racine to eat christian chicken sandwiches. I had two, and a large waffle fries and a large sweet iced tea, and I was halfway through the second sandwich and realized, I didn't remember the first one at all. It just sort of dissipated in my hands and reconfigured in my stomach. Please look at pictures that mintwaster took, and note that the orange t-shirt I am wearing is the shirt I bought on sale at the mall when we made the trek this past winter. This time I bought a pair of amazing brown seersucker shorts, or short trousers really, Calvin Klein, manufacturer's suggested retail price of $59.99, that were reduced to $44.99, and then $4.99. Yes, five bucks. They were on a rack of things with a sign that said $7.99 - $9.99 and I asked a cashier to scan and tell me if one of those was a price, because I was waivering, but when the screen flashed $4.99, I had my wallet out before he could say it outloud. We managed to gather the troops from the power of the mall and got home, just in time to go pick up freakysparks for dinner at Lula's. The wait was 45 minutes to an hour, except, we have three seats on the counter. Hell yeah. No waiting, and I got to stare at the torsos of the cooks and watch their rhythms and movements at preparing dishes. I also had a glass of portuguese wine. I don't think I've ever had portuguese wine. 'Dear diary, today was a first.' I don't even know what it was, it was a blend of grape varietals I didn't recognize. It was good. Afterwards we went to the store and got supplies and I gave Sparky a tour of all the things I love about Strack & Von Til's. Then we came home and ate popcorn and watched the first two episodes of Dexter. Appropriate Halloween weekend viewing. The next morning we made breakfast and then I had a couple hours alone, and then we watched two more episodes of Dexter, and then I had just enough time to write, shower, and make corn casserole before heading to C&B's house for an autumnal potluck of warm dairy-filled dishes like butternut squash soup and mashed potatoes and my casserole and then pork roast. Then we all gathered around a giant pile of candy and watched The Shining. I haven't seen it since I was a teenager and I only remember about half of it. I loved it. So many things about it I loved. Even if I think Kubrick is an ass for what he did to Shelley Duvall, even if I think in general Jack Nicholsan is overrated, I will say in this (and in Chinatown), he is good. And even though its totally like, hey I just discovered steadycam, I'm going to do all sort of tricks, I was signed on for all of them. I don't love all horror movies, but when I do, I do a lot, I'm all for touching on the shadow self, it is our humanity. Um. What? Where am I? Yesterday I did my morning routine of breakfast and reading and writing and then I cut my hair and my beard and then I went to Links Hall and performed and afterwards we went to Underground Lounge where it was empty. I like having an entire bar to ourselves. swimrgirl5000 gave me a ride home and asked me to participate in her video project tomorrow morning and we had a conversation about gendered dynamics and roles in relationships and feelings about men and what they mean or don't mean and how to have a conversation about it that's real and looks at it without it becoming trivializing or looking at the wrong part of the equation. I have to wear dress pants and a pink dress shirt and I'm walking back and forth. I think I can handle that. Today was therapy, and he was a big strong man to hold my psyche, so that sorta counts. We had a fight too, I mean not a fight, fight, but a misunderstanding/miscommunication and had to hash it out and afterwards it made me laugh a little and he was like, what? Then when I called it a fight, he's like, I wish all my fights could be like that and I'm like, hell, me too. I mean, what's wrong with an argument? What's wrong with having two different ideas and thoughts and feelings and hashing it out to get both people to not only feel heard but also to hear? We're never taught that, I guess that's why. We start to get that itchy inflamed uncomfortable feeling on our skin and want it to stop, so we drop it all and then it just feels incomplete, because we're left feeling misunderstood as well as further away from the person across from us. Hey, maybe if I can 'fight' well with my therapist first, I can start taking it to the streets. Like the Doobie Brothers. OMG, this reminds me of the absolute most hilarious part of Poonie's last night was during Matthew Hollis's piece and he mentioned quoting Steel Magnolias and then he said, "I'll get the juice." vfc and I nearly fell out of the chairs, I might have peed my pants a little. Of all the Steel Magnolias lines. Of all of them. "I'll get the juice." Mtherfcker. So anyway, I walked half of the way home from therapy which was good, it was beautiful today, what October should be with yellow leaves and blue skies and cold sun. Then Johnny came over and I made a "Grandma Lunch" of grilled cheese and cole slaw and potato chips and cut up apples, though it was fancy bread and mustard for the sandwich, and the coleslaw was sesame oil/rice vinegar based, instead of mayo, and the potato chips were like fancy kettle cooked barbeque flavored. So, Bourgie Grandma. But also, I finished up a lot of containers of things, for some reason that felt like a Grandma thing to to -- eat up the rest of this! Finish this bag of this! Clean out my fridge! We had a good talk at lunch about some of the hard things of the past week. Then we sang sad songs while playing guitar and I even got a little misty-eyed during "Leaving on a Jet Plane". I want someone to sing me songs, to make me mixtapes, to woo me. I miss that. Though limenal left me a drawing on my facebook graffiti wall which was pretty awesome. I didn't write today, the first time in 8 days, I don't like it, but there just sometimes aren't enough hours in the day before work, but I did other good things and I did write this, and I think I covered most of the major highlights.