Places I've slept in 2008:

Columbia, SC
Arlington, VA
Alexandria, VA
Ashburn, VA
Decatur, GA
Athens, GA
Knoxville, TN
Folly Beach, SC
Greenville, SC
Black Mountain, NC

This year... is going to get crazy.

 

My back aches.  I've not been to yoga since this session started and my body is starting to go to pieces.  My mind races forward to all the impossible things I want to teach myself to do, my body lurches backwards for lack of basic maintenance.  I'm not eating well.  I see Chris Orr for massage and torture on Thursday.  I have to do something about this.

I'm introverted lately.  I don't go out.  The denizens of this town are collectively getting mired down in petty squabbles, drama, intrigues, seductions.  Little lost birds in tar pits squawking for me to help them, to pay attention to them.  I don't have the stomach for it, and find myself tuning out and futzing about inside my head instead.  The last few parties I've been to have been ruined by someone's insecurities and guilt.  He flees the room when I enter, and can only be near me after consuming copious amounts of alcohol.  He's turned my life upside down and continues to punish me.  I've left the social scene to give him room to breathe and move around in it.  He needs it more than I.

I've spent three weeks updating my web presence.  I've fallen out of the daily maintenance and have to rush to catch up, squinting through the dark at a bright computer screen and html code.  Daily maintenance.  I'm seeing a pattern here.  Why can I not bring myself to do simple chores?  I've not been outside today.  Tomorrow I teach in Charleston.  I'm tempted to drive down early and see the ocean, feel sand between my toes, be alone in the sunshine.  Or the hurricane, as the case seems to be.

I'm creating things in my solitude.  Posters.  Websites.  New pieces.  New shows.  New costuming.  I sit around sewing feathers and sequins to a pair of nude boy shorts while I'm in them.  Life of a circus performer.  I tick items off my to do list, but the list always grows longer.  My schedule is hectic and nearly full from here to November.  I'll be on the road a lot, performing, finally breaking through, I hope, and living the life I've been clawing toward by my fingernails and sheer determination for three years.

I'm opening up to boys and just as quickly shutting them out.  Late one night I escaped the house in frustration and exhaustion to visit one.  I'd not seen him since before the auditions weeks ago.  Through no fault of his, I no sooner got there than I wanted to be home asleep in my bed.  I was too weighed down with the work I'd left behind and all that needed to be done.  I stayed through a cup of tea and a chat.  I ducked his kisses, his hands, felt guilty at the confusion on his face as I kissed his forehead and backed out of the door.  Others underestimate me, patronize me or disappoint me and I grow disillusioned.  Note to the opposite sex: condescension is the quickest path to royally pissing me off.

To the person that is supposed to restore my faith and be my partner: where are you?  I am losing hope that you are coming, and I increasingly can't tear myself away from my work to go hunting for you.  Please find me soon.  I'm currently found alone in the dark in my mom's basement with the Art Bar setlist blaring on repeat.  Thank you.

My eldest sister is seeing people on the ceiling again while she sleeps.  Four nights spent on the couch while the negative value shapes of the spirits who follow us try to warn her.  My family looks at each other and wonders who will fall ill this time.  Is it my mother?  Is it one of the children again?  Is it my turn? 

The air is humid and heavy, and I have too much to do.