Touching Base
Shilo it's almost your birthday and I haven't seen you since I left NY two years ago. Shit. Two years. Ok it's not almost your birthday... it's at the end of June... but it's way closer than it was a month ago. Life? Life is weird. Poetry is coming from everywhere. I literally can't stop writing. Also there has been a voiced interest in the funny little "Made 4 You" cards that I've been creating for years. Drew an art eatin' monster for a sad little artist boy and he freaked out he liked it so much. Actually he said it made him want to jerk off so I assume that's a good thing. Being around young artist men has really increased my tolerance for sharp sexual advances. It's hard to know, especailly if you're a woman, if someone, especially men, like what you do or if they just like how you look doing it. Most of the time I can tell. Most of the time I don't care. I can't help how I look as much as I can't help being talented and bawdy. No more are shows for a little while. That's a relief. It's hard looking pretty and interested for four hours. Usually, if I'm wearing the right underware, I've gotten what I wanted by then. Slam team rehearsals are amazing. I get excited for them. We have our main practice spaces lined up so no more frantic searching the day before. Now I can relax and memorize. Last night I saw Mike Doughty at 5-Points Pub. You might remember him from the band Soul Coughing. The show was amazing. He's hysterical and very talented. His lyrics are poetic. It was a beautiful night. Almost my weekend and the sky is stretching it's smile over my excitement. I'm hungry.