Sometimes
...I reach the limits of myself.
This has been one of those times.
It's why I haven't written. The last time I wrote I was about to have my birthday party/hangout, and I was talking about how my life is bi-polar.
aHA! But what an understatement.
The birthday celebration was, overall fantastic. Probably the high point was the pole dancing class. Seriously... I highly recommend it to any woman, of any age. And I highly recommend Sassypoles. First, the instructor was slamming. Even super-conservative Shoefly remarked that none of us would have been able to sneak under the "gay-dar." She was beautiful, she was strong, she was round. And sexy as hell. She was sensual but smart... and got 17 women of all ages, sizes and physical attributions comfortable enough in their own skin to work on their own sexy. Some were more comfortable than others, most definitely. But even those who were less comfortable were probably more comfortable at the end than they could have possibly imagined.
Personally, I enjoyed the hell out of it. My analytical mind remarked at the simple things she taught us--how to take off a shirt, what looks sexy from what angle and what doesn't--and I laughed to myself at how visual men are. And I betcha if more women knew this stuff, less men would stray. It ain't that hard. A few tricks can make a huge difference... now... if only I get to practice it sometime soon...
Most of us went from there to what turned out to be the "afterparty" at Moca.
Moca wasn't really my type of joint. It was way too much of one flavor, and you could almost feel the room crackle in resentment when I walked in. I had decided to dress up for my birthday and I knew I stood out... and in other places that wouldn't have been a problem but here, I felt it. And I was very upset when my girls Ginger and Ross walked in with the Fat Lady and OneHalf and I could feel their discomfort. And the discomfort of the room with them. It haunted me all week, that feeling. On top of that, the little bit of champagne I'd had at the class (and it wasn't a lot) gave me a HUGE headache... the kind where you feel your brain slam into the sides of your skull when you turn your head. I tried to eat some wings to absorb the alcohol I knew was coming and to soften the Excedrin I took but they were too sweet and I didn't eat them all. And the place was expensive and I was broke.
I knew that I should probably not drink a lot. I knew it was going to be a bad high. But I drank anyway. I tried to break my record of 12 tequila shots but I only got to 10, with a couple of beers. I was good up to a point... then I kind of blacked out and don't remember much except the lights being on and everyone being gone but me, CNC, the Fabulous and his friend Spicy the DomincanGayBoy. CNC hadn't been drinking and hadn't ever experienced the Bear Maiden drunk but I hand it to my girl... she found my shoes (I tend to take off my shoes when drunk), got ALL my bags and The Cake, got my ass in a cab and home. It was the kind of bad drunk I had the birthday SD broke up with me at 7 in the morning. Except I didn't cry this time, in truth not really having anything to cry about.
The Professor had almost gotten into a major blow out with the establishment, as she had busted her ass to get me The Cake, had called ahead to the place to find out if it was OK to cut The Cake there, but when she got there they told her it would be $25 to cut it. The Professor wasn't having it. I was already tipsy but sane enough to try to smooth it over, cuz I hadn't wanted her to get kicked out, cuz if she had I would have had to leave and I was still waiting for more folk, including the Fabulous. But sis was tight. Another friend said later they'd never seen her like that. I have... and I knew how it could end up. So I'm glad it didn't.
But... there were highlights. One of them was that I reunited with a bunch of folk from my High
School. Apparently the word had spread via Crackbook and the phone, and folk I hadn't seen since my sophomore year in High School were there. The love was evident. It was as if we'd only seen each other yesterday. One friend had flown in from Minnesota just for this. We shared the same birthday, and back in High School it was him, me and another guy... all platonic, tight as thieves. Birthday boy /Second Cog I've seen fairly recently... but the Third Cog I hadn't seen since the summer I graduated and there he was. It was overwhelming.
Another highlight was that G Man--now of WBAI--has proven to me that there are people in the world who truly understand the concept of "ride or die". At least my definition of it.
Another was that for the most part, the people who I really wanted to share my celebration with showed up... even if they couldn't take the atmosphere for long. And from what I understand, most people had a great time.
And lastly, the Fabulous came. I realize that he's nowhere as into me as I am him... but he came. And it meant everything.
There were lots and lots and lots of pictures. The pole dancing pictures were a huge hit on Crackbook especially on Monday when folks got back to work. But one of my favorites I stumbled upon by accident-it had been uploaded later of me and the Fabulous. It made my heart stop. We're both tipsy (well, I'm shit faced cuz it's at a point in the evening I barely remember) and he looks hellatired, but in that picture my guard was down and how I feel about him is right out there. And he... you can tell there's something but you're still not really certain if it's at the same intensity.
Yeah, I downloaded it and I've snuck peeks at it now and then. I write my voices away here under the guise of supposed anonymity (though most of my readers now are people I either know or have met), but I think for the most part in real life I'm pretty good about keeping the depth of me out of sight. But that picture kind of blows it. I showed it to CNC later and she said...."oh. yeah." It reminds me of another picture I used to have of us. Someone had taken it at our SeniorSemester Pratt Show, the year we graduated from the graphic design program. I don't remember who took it, but out of the blue next semester when he had moved on to a BA program and I had to finish a semester, the person handed it to me. I kept it my DayRunner for years, sneaking peeks at it now and then. I finally threw it out when he got involved with someone and I figured it would be the last I'd hear of him.
That picture, and the knowledge that Poppy has been in some serious pain, and the letdown of the tequila sent me into a serious funk the next day. Which lasted well into the week. I kept meaning to come back here and write but I couldn't.
It was so bad that by Wednesday I started talking to another friend of mine from HighSchool on Crackbook. Back in the day he was the ThirdCog in the group known as the Kangol Crew. Two of those members went out and got really well-known in the rap game, but the third... I'm not sure where his journey took him. He hasn't said much about it except that it took him in bad places. But he became very religious in an overall sort of way. So in the middle of the night we start IM'ing each other until he finally told me his fingers were tired, and I should just call him. And I was down enough to actually do it. We stayed on the phone another hour or so, him quoting scripture (particularly Old Testament verses when I told him I was an Old Testament kind of chick) until about 3 in the morning. It was amazing. A glass angel moment.
Two nights after that I was able to "pay it forward'' to yet another HS friend who had discovered his girlfriend was cheating on him.
In the meantime, I was successfully avoiding the fact that Poppy was in some serious pain, and that my little boy's 10th birthday was fast approaching and I had absolutely no money to do anything about it.
Luckily, SD and I are friends. I asked him if he could spare some money, and he paypaled it over.
And then the bi-polar of my life hit the ultimate high on Saturday when my little boy played at Avery Fisher Hall with Mark O'Connor. This concert, with far less hype surrounding it than the DC trip, turned out to be a much bigger deal than I thought. I didn't realize until Friday that James Earl Jones was a part of it. He was a narrator. I didn't realize until Saturday that my kid's actual name appeared in the Lincoln Center Playbill for the event, and Opus' name was featured on the billboard. My kid is funny. I wonder sometimes why he's so nonplussed about all this. It doesn't seem to go to his head, he doesn't seem to get hyped or nervous about any of these performers. He is certainly not starstruck. When I realized that Mr. Jones was part of this production, I asked him had he met him. "Yeah" he said. "Do you REALIZE who he is?" I asked.
"No" he said quizzically. Never mind the fact that Jones had been the voice of Verizon for awhile.
"He's the voice of Darth Vader" I said.
"OH!" he said. But that was all he said.
The next day, Saturday I was standing backstage taking pictures of the kids practicing their stage exit, and was almost trampled by Mr. Jones. I looked up, and there he was... exactly as he looks on TV and just as large, and I was so flabbergasted I couldn't even get it together to snap a picture. I also didn't think he'd like it. But wow. I'm riding my kids' coattails. I took a picture of the Sun and Mr. O'Conner... I was far more excited about it than the Sun was.
The show, a multimedia tribute to Abraham Lincoln's Bicentennial, was so much fun. It made me feel downright patriotic. Hearing Mr. Jones read portions of the Gettysburg address gave me goosebumps. And O'Connor playing a rendition of "Amazing Grace" is something I am honored to have heard. The professional musicians there were so proud of our Opus children... encouraging them and smiling, giving them a "thumbs up" in the hall between shows. I was so, unspeakably, enormously proud of my little boy, the ensemble, Roberta.
So there's more... but as usual I've stayed up way past the time I should have, so I must continue "defragging" later...
This has been one of those times.
It's why I haven't written. The last time I wrote I was about to have my birthday party/hangout, and I was talking about how my life is bi-polar.
aHA! But what an understatement.
The birthday celebration was, overall fantastic. Probably the high point was the pole dancing class. Seriously... I highly recommend it to any woman, of any age. And I highly recommend Sassypoles. First, the instructor was slamming. Even super-conservative Shoefly remarked that none of us would have been able to sneak under the "gay-dar." She was beautiful, she was strong, she was round. And sexy as hell. She was sensual but smart... and got 17 women of all ages, sizes and physical attributions comfortable enough in their own skin to work on their own sexy. Some were more comfortable than others, most definitely. But even those who were less comfortable were probably more comfortable at the end than they could have possibly imagined.
Personally, I enjoyed the hell out of it. My analytical mind remarked at the simple things she taught us--how to take off a shirt, what looks sexy from what angle and what doesn't--and I laughed to myself at how visual men are. And I betcha if more women knew this stuff, less men would stray. It ain't that hard. A few tricks can make a huge difference... now... if only I get to practice it sometime soon...Most of us went from there to what turned out to be the "afterparty" at Moca.
Moca wasn't really my type of joint. It was way too much of one flavor, and you could almost feel the room crackle in resentment when I walked in. I had decided to dress up for my birthday and I knew I stood out... and in other places that wouldn't have been a problem but here, I felt it. And I was very upset when my girls Ginger and Ross walked in with the Fat Lady and OneHalf and I could feel their discomfort. And the discomfort of the room with them. It haunted me all week, that feeling. On top of that, the little bit of champagne I'd had at the class (and it wasn't a lot) gave me a HUGE headache... the kind where you feel your brain slam into the sides of your skull when you turn your head. I tried to eat some wings to absorb the alcohol I knew was coming and to soften the Excedrin I took but they were too sweet and I didn't eat them all. And the place was expensive and I was broke.
I knew that I should probably not drink a lot. I knew it was going to be a bad high. But I drank anyway. I tried to break my record of 12 tequila shots but I only got to 10, with a couple of beers. I was good up to a point... then I kind of blacked out and don't remember much except the lights being on and everyone being gone but me, CNC, the Fabulous and his friend Spicy the DomincanGayBoy. CNC hadn't been drinking and hadn't ever experienced the Bear Maiden drunk but I hand it to my girl... she found my shoes (I tend to take off my shoes when drunk), got ALL my bags and The Cake, got my ass in a cab and home. It was the kind of bad drunk I had the birthday SD broke up with me at 7 in the morning. Except I didn't cry this time, in truth not really having anything to cry about.
The Professor had almost gotten into a major blow out with the establishment, as she had busted her ass to get me The Cake, had called ahead to the place to find out if it was OK to cut The Cake there, but when she got there they told her it would be $25 to cut it. The Professor wasn't having it. I was already tipsy but sane enough to try to smooth it over, cuz I hadn't wanted her to get kicked out, cuz if she had I would have had to leave and I was still waiting for more folk, including the Fabulous. But sis was tight. Another friend said later they'd never seen her like that. I have... and I knew how it could end up. So I'm glad it didn't.
But... there were highlights. One of them was that I reunited with a bunch of folk from my High
School. Apparently the word had spread via Crackbook and the phone, and folk I hadn't seen since my sophomore year in High School were there. The love was evident. It was as if we'd only seen each other yesterday. One friend had flown in from Minnesota just for this. We shared the same birthday, and back in High School it was him, me and another guy... all platonic, tight as thieves. Birthday boy /Second Cog I've seen fairly recently... but the Third Cog I hadn't seen since the summer I graduated and there he was. It was overwhelming.Another highlight was that G Man--now of WBAI--has proven to me that there are people in the world who truly understand the concept of "ride or die". At least my definition of it.
Another was that for the most part, the people who I really wanted to share my celebration with showed up... even if they couldn't take the atmosphere for long. And from what I understand, most people had a great time.
And lastly, the Fabulous came. I realize that he's nowhere as into me as I am him... but he came. And it meant everything.
There were lots and lots and lots of pictures. The pole dancing pictures were a huge hit on Crackbook especially on Monday when folks got back to work. But one of my favorites I stumbled upon by accident-it had been uploaded later of me and the Fabulous. It made my heart stop. We're both tipsy (well, I'm shit faced cuz it's at a point in the evening I barely remember) and he looks hellatired, but in that picture my guard was down and how I feel about him is right out there. And he... you can tell there's something but you're still not really certain if it's at the same intensity.
Yeah, I downloaded it and I've snuck peeks at it now and then. I write my voices away here under the guise of supposed anonymity (though most of my readers now are people I either know or have met), but I think for the most part in real life I'm pretty good about keeping the depth of me out of sight. But that picture kind of blows it. I showed it to CNC later and she said...."oh. yeah." It reminds me of another picture I used to have of us. Someone had taken it at our SeniorSemester Pratt Show, the year we graduated from the graphic design program. I don't remember who took it, but out of the blue next semester when he had moved on to a BA program and I had to finish a semester, the person handed it to me. I kept it my DayRunner for years, sneaking peeks at it now and then. I finally threw it out when he got involved with someone and I figured it would be the last I'd hear of him.
That picture, and the knowledge that Poppy has been in some serious pain, and the letdown of the tequila sent me into a serious funk the next day. Which lasted well into the week. I kept meaning to come back here and write but I couldn't.
It was so bad that by Wednesday I started talking to another friend of mine from HighSchool on Crackbook. Back in the day he was the ThirdCog in the group known as the Kangol Crew. Two of those members went out and got really well-known in the rap game, but the third... I'm not sure where his journey took him. He hasn't said much about it except that it took him in bad places. But he became very religious in an overall sort of way. So in the middle of the night we start IM'ing each other until he finally told me his fingers were tired, and I should just call him. And I was down enough to actually do it. We stayed on the phone another hour or so, him quoting scripture (particularly Old Testament verses when I told him I was an Old Testament kind of chick) until about 3 in the morning. It was amazing. A glass angel moment.
Two nights after that I was able to "pay it forward'' to yet another HS friend who had discovered his girlfriend was cheating on him.
In the meantime, I was successfully avoiding the fact that Poppy was in some serious pain, and that my little boy's 10th birthday was fast approaching and I had absolutely no money to do anything about it.
Luckily, SD and I are friends. I asked him if he could spare some money, and he paypaled it over.
And then the bi-polar of my life hit the ultimate high on Saturday when my little boy played at Avery Fisher Hall with Mark O'Connor. This concert, with far less hype surrounding it than the DC trip, turned out to be a much bigger deal than I thought. I didn't realize until Friday that James Earl Jones was a part of it. He was a narrator. I didn't realize until Saturday that my kid's actual name appeared in the Lincoln Center Playbill for the event, and Opus' name was featured on the billboard. My kid is funny. I wonder sometimes why he's so nonplussed about all this. It doesn't seem to go to his head, he doesn't seem to get hyped or nervous about any of these performers. He is certainly not starstruck. When I realized that Mr. Jones was part of this production, I asked him had he met him. "Yeah" he said. "Do you REALIZE who he is?" I asked.
"No" he said quizzically. Never mind the fact that Jones had been the voice of Verizon for awhile.
"He's the voice of Darth Vader" I said.
"OH!" he said. But that was all he said.
The next day, Saturday I was standing backstage taking pictures of the kids practicing their stage exit, and was almost trampled by Mr. Jones. I looked up, and there he was... exactly as he looks on TV and just as large, and I was so flabbergasted I couldn't even get it together to snap a picture. I also didn't think he'd like it. But wow. I'm riding my kids' coattails. I took a picture of the Sun and Mr. O'Conner... I was far more excited about it than the Sun was.The show, a multimedia tribute to Abraham Lincoln's Bicentennial, was so much fun. It made me feel downright patriotic. Hearing Mr. Jones read portions of the Gettysburg address gave me goosebumps. And O'Connor playing a rendition of "Amazing Grace" is something I am honored to have heard. The professional musicians there were so proud of our Opus children... encouraging them and smiling, giving them a "thumbs up" in the hall between shows. I was so, unspeakably, enormously proud of my little boy, the ensemble, Roberta.
So there's more... but as usual I've stayed up way past the time I should have, so I must continue "defragging" later...
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