bethofalltrades

My mother says, why don't you post, you had such an interesting weekend. I blinked into the darkness of my room and asked, "Why do you say that? What did I do?"

I honestly could not remember what I did four days ago.

I saw Margaret Cho in New Jersey with Amanda's manager Emily and her interns Kristan and Katrina (yes, the same Katrina who accompanies me on bagel adventures.) That was good. Em rented the car and I drove and on the way we talked mostly about work. Said hello to Margaret afterward, and met Ian Harvie and Selene Luna, both of whom are hilarious and friendly. Wore a vest and a jacket and jeans and looked the gayest I've ever looked. Wore my glasses and looked like my mother.

The night before that I met Olga at the airport, where she had a seven hour layover after having been refused entry to the UK. She'd been traveling for more than 30 hours. I took her to a diner and we talked about life.

A few hours before that I saw the umbrella girl. She sat on my couch and we ate chinese food and I was not the least bit breathless.

Two days after I saw the umbrella girl I hung around Books of Wonder to hug Neil Gaiman. His father had just died and he signed for seven hours anyway. I met his assistant Kat who is pretty much who I want to be in ((insert inoffensive number of years.)) We compared key tattoos. She has fantastic style. So I hung about and ran into Nathen and chatted and eventually everyone left and I hugged Neil and then I left.

KT and I went to a bar where you get free pizza with every beer and I had three after little sleep and got confessional, like I do, and inquisitive, like I do. She paid for the cab ride home and most of the beer. We hugged a lot.

I live in the same house with her and yet sometimes the distance is broad. I am so caught up in my work that I forget that there is life beyond it. And then Neil Gaiman's father dies and I hover around the edges of a book signing and I remember: oh. Humans. Be human.

I talked to Dakota about my lack of crushes. I bemoaned it. I told her that I am not FEELING and I want to be FEELING and God bless her she did not remind me that the last time I was FEELING I nearly destroyed my career by drinking too much and being dramatic.

Tomorrow I am going with Katrina on an adventure--- she is getting a tattoo from Joy, who did my nemo perit and touched up my key. Friday I'll be in Boston. Saturday I'm back in New York for a celebration of David's birthday. Sunday we're celebrating KT's. Monday I get on a plane to Austin, TX.

I am still struggling with balance.

I tried to do a handstand tonight and could only get one foot off the ground at a time. I think there's a metaphor there. Fear is the lead weight in my heels.

I keep dreaming about fire. In one dream, I burned papers down to my hands until they blistered. In another I crashed a car and it went up in flames, then ran into a nearby building that caught fire spontaneously too. My companion in the dream pleaded with me to make things okay and I held up my hands-- both completely engulfed. Last night it was a plane on fire.

I have been doing truly shitful tarot readings recently. I counted the cards and there were only 77. The eight of cups is AWOL. I'll replace the deck tomorrow. It's good to have a reason for repeatedly missing the mark.

Life is strange. Beautiful too, but strange.

It's worth mentioning that a good woman died three nights ago. Her name was Jennifer and I didn't know her very well, but she was an important member of the Dolls/AFP community. She encouraged young artists. She provided support and feedback and love. There are a lot of people missing her now.

Love,
Beth