This time last week I was packing my ass off to go see Seattle/Sir Scorpio/HUL and Lady A. This week I'm having my coffee before Vau de Vire rehearsal and generally enjoying the meat realm. Impending change has always been one of my favorite states of being. This move is bigger than me, and that's how I like to do things. I can't believe I've only been here for two years...it feels like an eternity. My poor little face has aged a millenia. I've packed on an inch of muscle on my shoulders and given up on selling out. Now to go north where the lion and the unicorn keep urging me to go, to open up a can of San Francisco whoopass and see how they smoke it.
I can't believe I just wrote that sentence. Sounds like macho bullshit to me. In reality, I'll be myself and hope that those northern carnies allow for the transplant. I need a rigging space and a coach, I can't just be a silent douche and go sit shyly in the Circus Center telling myself I don't give a damn that no one will talk to me. I have to be a PERSON! Agast.
In other news, I cannot cook dinner for one. I try every night basically, but it's virtually impossible. Last night was another example, and since I now don't have a fridge I took it outside to see if the guy who looks like a warthog was hungry. I caught up to him on the corner and he was in one of his mumbling moods, so against all reason I interrupted him and asked him if he were hungry. He waved me off shaking his head and kept mumbling. The REALLY interesting part of this interation was the sense of rejection I felt at this time. I pondered this while spotting another dude on the corner who did in fact turn out to be hungry, although when I asked if he were allergic to rosemary he seemed to be quite scared. Who asks that? Who ever fucking heard of anyone being allergic to rosemary?
Anyway, on with the show. I miss my supercousin. Everything is turning over, I can see and smell that, and when I turn with it I can almost see the outline of greatness to come. Because I am optimistic like that. And I have the capability of romanticizing just about anything to suit my tastes. And shall continue to do so.
More beauteous soul-ripening coffee now.