What a weekend. Where, even, to begin? I spent Friday doing tech at the theater. I was beyond nervous all day. Opening night was great. You can still get tickets for the upcoming shows, and I wish you would. After the show I meandered and wandered around, exhausted, for a few hours, with assorted home girls. Saturday I woke up fucking exhausted. I did my laundry, tidied up my room, cleaned out the refrigerator and watered all the plants. Full-on domestic goddess time. Went to the theater to work on some tech bits. I took a tiny nap and returned for our showtime. I don't know how I would have stayed awake were it not for Cole slipping me one of those 5 Hour Energy drinks. I sound like the commercial, but they really do work.
After the show we went to a party at Roy's house in Womensbrrrg with literally everyone ever from all over the world. I stayed just long enough to drink a fistful of rum, and, inexplicably, an entire glass of Disaronno. (Why?). Retired to Manhattan, and spent all of Easter in bed. I do not believe in jinxing anything but I also don't know if I want to brag so suffice it to say that I am happy. I've been grinning like an idiot, dropping things all morning.
Came home and watched Barbarella with Bobo. How had I never seen this before? It completely blew my mind. Amazing. Inspiring. I feel like SO MUCH references it, so much is clear to me now.
Drinking water out of a repurposed glass peanut butter jar. My co-star in the play, Joseph Keckler, is allergic to peanuts. Since much of the play involves us making out, and the fact that I subsist entirely off of peanut butter, I've been very careful about avoiding my favorite food and it's attendant residues the last couple of weeks. Since we won't be performing until next Friday, I feel okay, though.
A few years ago my homegirl Cotton and I were discussing a sexy young friend of ours in San Francisco, who Cotton used to sleep with. He said "I didn't like having sex with him, but I think we're just a bad match. You would like it. He thinks you're cute, though. You should sleep with him, if only so that you can write about it for your zine." And I thought that was kind of funny.
But I'm also, lately, into this romance trip. I feel like life is too short to sleep with people you don't like, y'know? Maybe this is clear to everyone else but I sometimes remind myself of this. No pity fucks. No fucking people to "help your career". No fucking people to convince them to like you. Just do it with people you, y'know, actually like. I'm reminded of that wonderful Kiki Smith quote about her art: "We're not doing research here, our lives are at stake". That sums it up.
So now, I feel like I am not doing research and I am not mapping one thing onto another.
Talking in bed with a poet, takling about bravery.