I am the audience

*msn burble*
*a girl looks up, she’s tired and almost looks asleep. She’s been obviously bored for hours*

Three minutes of conversation and I’m transfigured. A shot of happy tasting adrenaline in welcome simple words. It’s not that I can’t remember the last time I reacted like this, it’s just trying to place the last time without fear attached.


They left me, but they never really felt that far away.

Mystery finally solved, link thanks to Andrew! The translation of the dialogue between Bill Murray, the Translator and the Director in the advertisement scene from Lost In Translation. “With intensity!”

*laughter* Damnit! She’s in my hair!! I can feel the presence of her soap and scent in my clothing. I’m glad I didn’t wait until the end.

I wrote a letter tonight about my evening out, and sent it away. I would dearly pay to see the reaction of the recipient tomorrow when they read it. I am MORE than willing to bet precious things that they blink.

I danced home and everyone on the bus thought I was drunk

There is something about tacky music playing in a lesbian bar that just catches at my feet and hips. As soon as was decent after the show, I started dancing. Long skirt and tight shirt. I know Beth raised eyebrows at my dirty dancing. It was a ball. I hiked my skirt up and tucked it in too short to walk on the street. Her name was Robin and she likes me. Swaying, twining. Pelvis and thighs and french fox face. We had a song together and she kissed me. Long hair, caught thick in midnight curls down her back. I gave her my e-mail on our way out. I’m suspecting she’ll be disappointed when she finds out I’m only interested in dance partners. *laughing*

Before that particular flirt goodbye, I was caught in the doorway, a woman who’s known me for a good four, five years. She stopped me, and asked, “alright girl, I finally have to ask. Is it girls or boys?” “I’m AIDS generation darling, of course it doesn’t matter!!” *laughter* “Well – on stage tonight, was it the men or the belly dancers?”

Small, sweet victories. Walking in femme and walking out a man.

tonight is going to be hard

The heat and my blood and the children are conspiring to shut me down. I can feel the intelligence being sucked out. I’m being stripped down by inanities. I think I remember this feeling last time I tried to watch television. I’m a different person like this. I’ll cut myself on my wit, because suddenly, it’s dulled.

This week I work Monday too. I’m going to require some serious cleansing. Tonight is Spike’s fundraiser at Lick. I’m counting on it to shift me back into reality a bit. Settle me back into my brain, because right now I’m alone. There’s a beautiful song in my heart, but the singers echos won’t shine enough without another listen. Tomorrow is pointing to Farenheit 9/11, though, so perhaps I’ll be set free.

damnidiot left the key running in the ignition. now the zombie will catch us

Like yesterday, I’ve mysteriously woken up tired at 9:30, unable to creep back into sleep. I don’t know what the shape of this is, but it’s getting irritating. I wake up as if I haven’t dreamed, and yet I remember them. This morning was fleeing from the undead and having to deal with idiots. On waking, I couldn’t rid myself the thought of blood and x-rays, so I had to get up and dig them out. They’ve been put aside as I’ve been settling in, but perhaps it’s time to begin creating something. I don’t know how, and I have no materials, but I feel I must try. Anything.