It Felt Just Like Falling in Love...Again

Desperate for money, like, really desperate, hindsight helped me understand that I should have been more wise with my funds. I'm paying a stupid amount in rent and have basically been broke since moving to LA. Still, I purchased tickets to see a band. Not just any band; Death Cab for Cutie. 

This band has meant so much to me. Their music is touching and dramatic. Their lyrics are relatable and universal for anyone who has ever had feelings - of any kind. I've grown up with them and into adulthood they are, easily, a complete favorite. 

But this isn't a post about the band. It's a post about how I was selling the tickets to the show because it was a lot of money that I shouldn't have spent and faced with the decision to see them live again or making some of that money back, it would have been the right thing for me to take the money. 

So I tried; craigslist, Reddit, Facebook, IG, friends, coworkers. I was contacted several times by interested fellow fans and left totally hanging three times when money didn't come through. Hopeless. 

I had no choice. I would have to go. My ticket would not go to waste. 

My arrival was perfectly timed, right as they began their first song, and I immediately wanted to find all of the people that left me hanging and kiss them. I still do not entirely understand why I was so overwhelmed. I had seen them play five months earlier, and while that was an incredible experience, it did not punch me in the heart the way it did last night. 

I sang along to every lyric. I moved and welled up. I took pictures and video, even deleting several apps from my phone so I could utilize the storage. I felt every chord and key and note and word so hard. I was utterly fulfilled. It was something that would make me believe in magic. I was vulnerable and weak and consumed by them. 

Things have been very tough
for me. I have had more obstacles, monetary and otherwise, in the last few months than I have in a long time. I'm disconnected and unsure but last night it became very clear that I love so much and when I allow myself to just let go, like the shirt I was wearing read, wonderful things happen. 

I hope to be consumed by this feelings or as long as possible. Total gratitude. Complete contentment and absolute serenity. I love and I'm capable of receiving that as much as I am capable of doing it.  

Of Course Camels Cry

I have a few favorite postures when it comes to Bikram yoga. The postures, or asanas, that I favor tend to be some of the more difficult, dare I say, "master," postures. I happen to be good at them - not perfect - but I'm good at them. 

Among these is ustrasana. This is camel pose. This posture is the 23rd of 26 postures in a standard class and is the deepest backward bend of the series. I've attached a more adequate description of it. 

What isn't included in the description is the fact that this posture can cause a reaction that has nothing to do with the spine. 

My favorite posture opens the heart. It is common to feel dizzy, nauseous, sick after this posture; even emotional. 

Cut to tonight. 

The room is so fucking hot. I'm pretty sure it's hotter than usual and this particular instructor keeps the heat higher than most. Add to that the new flooring that seems to bounce the 105-or-higher degree heat right back up. The 40% -or-higher humidity is all I feel and I'm directly under a vent that is pumping it directly onto me. 

She has only cracked the door once in nearly 90 minutes, for two seconds, and when she turns the fans on it just beats hot, thick air into my soaking wet and tired body. What crosses my mind, what never crosses my mind, is I'm going to leave the room. 

I never leave the room. As hot and humid and hard as this is, I don't give up. I've never left the room unless time didn't permit a full class. I've considered it - but never like this. I'm planning my escape. The whole time I'm in half tortoise pose, pulling my hips to my heels and stretching my arms out with my nose on the floor, I'm going to leave this fucking room. 

But ustrasana is next. That's my favorite. And when I'm in a posture I may be aware of the next one but it's not something I think about. I can't think. I can only do the posture I'm in and breathe. I can only focus on what I'm doing and when it's time to leave the room, it's time for camel posture. 

And I do it. I plant my knees on the floor and push my hips forward while staring at my own eyes in the mirror. I look spent, like how they make women in movies look when the women are giving birth. I'm red and drenched and even my hair is sweating. My hands push my hips forward as my head drops back and I place my right hand on my right foot, left hand on my left foot. I push everything, stomach, hips, thighs forward. I lift my chest high and my hands remain on my heels. I push and push and push and see the back wall, breathing through my nose. 

Then it's over. Shavasana; corpse pose. I cannot tell if there's noise because I can only hear my own heart pounding and there's no telling the difference between sweat and the tears running down my face as I lay on my back. 

I'm crying. There's no doubt that I'm crying but my gaze is soft and focused on the ceiling and my breathe remains normal. For those 20 seconds I feel proud and strong. My heart is open and I think how funny that is that my favorite posture is the heart opening posture. I think, in those 20 seconds, about my entire body and how lonely it's been. I think of all the places on my body that aren't being touched. I think about the brutal honesty that I've spoken recently. I think of the people I love and how much I love them. I think about how much I love myself and how I could've easily crumbled recently; how I have at times, but I haven't stopped. I haven't given up or caved in. I haven't even considered it. 

My favorite posture opens my heart and leaves me feeling better for it. I cried tonight, and it's happened a little before but never like this. My favorite posture heels the damage done and opens me up to receive more than I could ever imagine. This master posture is late in the class and would be easy to abandon, if that was how I operate. Clearly it isn't. My favorite posture is really trying. My favorite posture leaves me vulnerable late in the game. 

I did not leave the room tonight - no fucking way. 

The Truth Is

I'm lonely and heartbroken and because it feels like shit to admit it, I'll stick with, "Great, thanks! How are you?!"

It Happens in Your Sleep

I think it happens in your sleep. 

You go to bed one night, as usual, and you fall asleep. You drift into that slumber because your body and mind are ready for it. 

While you're asleep, you dream. Your body shifts and your pillows move. You grab at blankets and adjust. You aren't aware of what you're even capable of. You may even speak. You drool. You might walk. Your hands make their ways to parts of yourself, that can happen too. 

All of this happens while you're not even conscious. And if you're alone, unless you set up some way of recording yourself, there is no proof. Maybe you leave a few drops on the pillow where your mouth rested. Maybe there is a bruise on your wrist that you have no recollection of. Maybe you recall fighting dragons on the streets of San Fransisco to save a doll you had as a child. There is certainly evidence of what may have happened but you can't actually prove it. 

You just know that when you wake up - something has changed. Something is different now. You can't prove or explain it - it just is. 

Do You Wish to Save?

I think he's here to save people,

And maybe the problem was,

I don't need to be saved. 

Come on, compassion

I want to dedicate this to my favorite, though I'm sure it isn't the first time I've thought to do that and I doubt it will be the last. 

I was so late to the compassion game.

I was entirely apathetic, in fact. No, worse, I found myself wishing harm, even, to those less fortunate and more burdened than I was... than I am.

...because I didn't see them as less fortunate and burdened. I never thought of them as sick. I always found great pride in being so open minded and understanding and still cast aside these people that, at one point, I didn't even look at like people.

"The world would be better off if..."
"Do us all a favor and..."
"It's like he's not even a fucking person..."

That last one is the most vivid to me because those words cut deep into the feelings of someone that means more to me than I ever thought was possible. Those words came out of my mouth.

It's not up to me to tell someone else's story. It's barely up to me to tell my own but those words, that came out of my mouth, hurt someone. Yes, sure, our feelings are ours to control and no one else is responsible for how we feel but the truth is I said those words - those heartless, hurtful, ugly words and I had no fucking clue what I was talking about.

Unfortunately I was late to this compassion game but fortunately it just took one person to change my life - to expose me to a world that I previously thought I knew enough about. I didn't want to know. I knew it all. I knew everything and knew better. I've never been more grateful to have been so wrong.

So when this kid asks me, "where are the benzos? klonnies? anything?" I can't answer him because, well, I don't know.

But this kid is the love of someone's life.. he was or can be. He is... this kid is more than just some nuisance that's bothering me outside of my own apartment. This kid is a fucking kid that is asking a stranger for pills. This kid needs help. This kid is sick.

Because, right now, I need this

Otherwise it's not real. 

Otherwise it goes away. 

Otherwise there is no proof

Your Facebooks in Haiku

Your baby's not great,

I'm sorry that you feel sick,

Oh good, a new meme. 

Nice selfie, kind of,

Laundry, dinner and movies?

Guess I'll unfollow. 

You're always angry,

Didn't know you two were friends,

The GET, season 2. 

Independent Day

Today I celebrated my independence. 

Okay, we all did, but I wasn't celebrating my personal freedom from the British empire (maybe the one historical fact I've ever been somewhat confident in), nay, this was a declaration of being alone in a new city and not allowing it to weigh me down. 

This is hard. I knew it would be. It's also a little scary - not because of my unsavory neighbors - because I've never done this before. 

In August of 2011, I took whatever would fit into my 2004 Honda Civic, including two cats and my 24 year old brother, and drove from PA to Vegas... I did that. When I arrived in Vegas, I had my boyfriend at the time waiting for me, after he had done all the hard stuff. 

He had gotten a job and an apartment and located the local improv scene. At the time, this scene was a two-night a week thing with a small and devoted following. I like to think I slipped right in and found a home. 

Leaving Pennsylvania was the hardest thing I had done. My family was split between there and a short drive to New York. My friends were there... Sad, huh?

But my life didn't really begin, I mean my adult life, it just hadn't really started until I lived in Vegas. With a comfortable landing pad and a partner already waiting for me, this transition was destined for something. 

I got a job 3 days after arriving and stayed there, for my entire life in Vegas. I met some of the most important characters of my life-movie there. I was given such opportunities.  I will remain eternally grateful for the experience I acquired. 

And then there was improv... Just thinking about it makes my eyes well up, with warmth and love. Not actually - just tears...of warmth and love. 

The most amazing, talented, dedicated, creative, funny, caring, loyal and brilliant people are there. I love them. I never imagined I would be making BFFs in my thirties but, well, it happened. 

I had my spots too... My favorite bar. The food, my god, the food. The company and the folks slinging drinks. It's just incomparable. 

And then there's him. Hashtag My favorite... He's not waiting for me when I arrive in this new city. He's staying right where he needs to be. The way he lives his life has inspired me. 

And I'm here. 

Free from all of that. Free from the love and trust that I've never felt before. Free from being able to share - ANYTHING - without judgment. Free from a routine that was healthy and balanced and challenging. Free from working on something constantly. Free from regular meetings, rehearsals, shows, friends, beauty, sex, camaraderie... 

It's hard. I knew it would be. It's also scary - just because I never expected to miss something so much. 

The comfort is knowing I'm doing the right thing. Had I not done it a little by going to Vegas, I don't believe I would have been strong enough to do this. 

I couldn't get anyone to watch fireworks with me. I looked up where to go and planned my route. I grabbed a blanket and put on my most patriotic top. I drove to San Fernando High School and saw fireworks. Alone. 

So I'm here - independent. I guess that makes this my real declaration. 

Exes and Ooops

This is a true story.

I was crawling into bed with my boyfriend last night.

Crazy, right?

I checked my phone, right before lights out, like you do, and had a message from [what I thought was] my ex* boyfriend's younger brother.

I was tired. I was worn out. I saw the last name and read some words and responded, quickly, promising to respond, properly, later.

Still, this was strange.

It wasn't until I pulled the message up, with the intention to follow through with my promise to respond, that I noticed this was not from my ex boyfriend's younger brother.

This was from my ex boyfriend.

Unedited (I removed NAMES, other than my own - this is not to put anyone on blast - this is a practice in putting it all out there)

I do not care if you know who it is - no attack comments allowed.

• Monday
• 
  

  6/22, 11:25pm

  HIM: Hey. I know this is weird hearing from me so randomly, but I just needed a moment to reflect on my past and you were a big part of that. I've heard you've done some amazing things and good for you. You were always a person who could steal a room. You don't have to respond to this at all, I'm just taking a trip down memory lane. Congrats to you and I hope you continue to be awesome. I guess I just feel bad getting older and realizing how much of a shit I was back then to some people. If I made a black list, I hope I can clear my name and not have to worry about some hired hit man shanking me in some dark alley or taking my ass virginity. Anyway, cheers. Sorry for the randomness and the out of the blue, keep being you. ^corny ass hallmark closing. Lol

• 

  6/22, 11:51pm

  K Scott Faubel

  I'll give this the response it deserves when I am not about to go to sleep. Cheers

• 
  

  6/22, 11:52pm

  
  

  HIM: Goodnight Kim.

• Tuesday
• 

  6/23, 11:59pm

  K Scott Faubel

  So - here I am. I drove to and from LA today to go apartment hunting. I got my dream job offered to me (seemingly out of nowhere) and here I am. Back in Vegas.

  When I read this right before bed last night, I only saw the last name and thought your brother had written it. Holy shit, he didn't, it was you.

  So, with that in mind, I have done some amazing things and I can definitely still steal a room.

  You may not need to read this but you opened this can and here are the worms - you were awful to me. You have remained a terrible memory for me for a long time but, conversely, I believe on forgiveness and compassion more than I ever have.

  I don't feel it's necessary to go over actions or results. You were there. I know I could've done things differently too but I'm glad we didn't.

  I'm thrilled with my life now. My subsequent relationships and station in life have been more than fulfilling and rewarding. I hope you can say the same.

  I definitely wished some shanking on you at some point but I let that go a long time ago.

  Thanks for messaging me. Though I was caught off guard at first and was definitely under the wrong impression of the sender, I'm happy I was wrong about it.
• 

  12:00am

  K Scott Faubel

  I'll know tomorrow if I got approved for the apartment in LA. The dream job is secure, now I just need somewhere to lay my head
• 
  

  HIM: We only grow wiser as we get older. Maybe you don't wish things were done differently, but I do. No, we don't need to go down memory lane again, but I just felt like a balance needed to be applied, and you were a memory I just couldn't possibly forget about even if I tried. Very few people can carry the character and charisma of Kim. Lol. I've come a long way though since those days and I just needed to send you an apology and make peace if possible. What job offer did you receive in LA?
• 
  
• 

  12:38am

  K Scott Faubel

  Well, it's me, so it's designing and selling high end adult products. A very well established adult industry vet contacted me. He sought me out. How fucking amazing is that.

  May I ask, did something prompt this contact?
• 
  

  12:47am

  
  

  HIM: No, it's just been years of build up. I wanted to talk to you and make amends the day I came out with [MUTUAL FRIEND'S NAME] to your show, but you didn't seem interested in seeing me at all and I just let that moment go. I knew what I had done and it was hard for me to face and I wasn't about to make your proud moment awkward. I grew up with a fucked up past and even more fucked up relationships, you remember the psycho I was seeing before you. I still shudder at the thought of her. Lol. It just all did its damage and it took me a while before I found out who exactly I was or wanted to be, and unfortunately you were the one who got me in all of that mess. You were an awesome person, I let myself get lost and take it out on the wrong person. Regardless, you were the original one who actually helped push me to find myself and get my shit together. I hated losing you and I was too stubborn to admit my faults as they came. You've been a role model to a lot of people and you deserve the things you now proudly carry with you. I made contact with you because I've carried a lot of guilt and as I grew older and more mature it just dug at me more that I was able to lose touch with you (a good person) because of my own immaturity.
• 
  

  12:48am

  HIM: And there isn't anything wrong with sticking to what you know. Porn is a big business and you making a career of it is something I could see you enjoying for quite a while.
• 

  12:56am

  K Scott Faubel

  I'm not ashamed of it. I just know it's not a surprise to those that know me.

  Your past is what kept me around for as long as it did. I saw it as an excuse for behavior that, otherwise, I wouldn't have tolerated.

  What I've learned since then is this - my feelings are my responsibilities. You acted in ways and said things that cut me to my core. They didn't have to. I could've loved myself enough to be better about it and I didn't. Not the. Anyway.
• 

  12:57am

  K Scott Faubel

  *then
• 
  

  12:58am

  
  

  HIM: 100% accurate.
• 

  1:06am

  K Scott Faubel

  So there it is.
• 
  

  1:10am

  
  

  HIM: It's all good Kim. I'm not shocked/surprised. You reap what you sow. I fucked up a lot back then and I had to pay for it eventually, I'm just sorry it hurt someone who I cared about along that path.
• 

  1:12am

  K Scott Faubel

  Thank you
• 
  

  1:14am

  
  

  HIM: You're welcome. Maybe if you're ever in town again for a visit we could grab a drink or two and throw bread crumbs to the homeless, if you feel up to it.
• 

  1:29am

  K Scott Faubel

  I'll be in town again since I have so many family Members still there. I'll buy the homeless people sandwiches.
• 
  

  1:30am

  
  

  HIM: They like liquid bread the best. I don't blame them. Lol.
• 

  2:42am

  K Scott Faubel

  Yeah. I've seen worse homeless than Harrisburg can offer.

You came that night.

...it may have been when I was sleeping

In that imaginary world that translates reality to vision, in the unconscious mind. 

But you came...

...to me 

And it was like I knew what to do with you. 

Like we had been here before. 

Like this had happened and I knew just how to handle it and just what it took. 

And you knew exactly what I was doing and only had to be there

You just had to be there. 

Breaking My Eye Open

Is this really what I look like? 

Is this really what I do?

Waking Up

I changed the name of this blog because I am changing the location of this computer.

I'm changing the location of this computer because I'm changing locations.

The reality of this is strange and terrifying - imagine your dream coming true - like that.

Imagine this dream is also taking you away from your current home, state, friends, boyfriend, community, safety net...

The fact of the matter is, anytime it has been brought up, my response is, "Let's not talk about that now..."

...so imagine, if I just stick to that, which I just might, eventually we will have not talked about it for so long that I will just have left. I'm gone. In a way, I feel like I already am.

This new schedule of mine keeps me from all of my loved ones and most of my passion projects because it is, almost literally, the exact opposite of everyone else's schedule.

So I'm already quite distant from those I'm so close to.

The timing of this schedule change was parallel to the timing of the dream beginning to come true; it hasn't yet, and there's definitely still a part of me that is waiting for it not to. Classic Kim.

But wait!

... maybe this is a preparation. Maybe I can wake up and see this as a nice smooth way to transition into missing the fuck out of this tiny, sandy, brightly lit city and the beautiful, wonderful, warm and lovely people I've connected with out here.

Maybe I'm taking my time getting out of the most comfortable bed I've known and getting ready - really ready, to, "take on the day."

That day might just be the beginning of my life.

The Truth Is...

I will check, everyday, 

In my own way,

My body, my belly,

My hips and clavicle,

My face, my skin,

My back and my bum,

The truth is, I like it,

Most days,

The truth is, it's still nice to hear,

Some days,

The truth is, I'm learning,

My own love language. 

*insert empowered image here*

<4

Sometimes that's all I need

A Picture is Worth A Thousand Words

...and then I came across this photo, in which I'm looking right at you. 

you're looking away. 

Detoxification

(N) The process of removing toxic substances or qualities. 

Ninety minutes of heat, humidity, strength and flexibility. 

Every portion of your body is tested; every muscle and every fucking part of your mind is focused. 

Ninety minutes of open eyed meditation.

Don't even blink your eyes. 

One official water break. 

Stay in the room. 

Don't think - focus. 

Breathe normally. 

Concentrate - meditate. 

See your own eyes in the mirror. 

Connect with the pain and let it go. 

Push yourself.

Challenge yourself. 

Move yourself. 

Detoxification 

The process of removing toxic substances or qualities. 

Ninety minutes of sweat. Every pore opening up and every gland releasing the salt from your last meal, the smoke, the caffeine, the pain, sadness, heaviness, regret, desperation, loneliness, discomfort, confusion, rejection, worthlessness, self doubt, body image issues, heartbreak, grief, ugliness, frustration, anger, hatred and disappointment.  

Savasana...dead body pose. This is where the healing begins. This is when you refuel. This is where you practice complete and utter stillness. You let your body drip and your heartbeat returns to normal. You keep your eyes open and see things differently. You face your palms up and receive. Your feet fall open and relax to the floor. Your breathing is all you need to focus on. Don't wipe the sweat. Don't adjust. Don't fidget. 

You walked into this room for a reason. You stayed in this room for a better one. 

We don't know exactly what happens inside a chrysalis but the transformation is certain. This is no different. 

I walk into this room as one person and I walk out a different one. 

Proud. Beautiful. Stronger. Absolute. 

This is why

This Isn't It

When you actually write down exactly what you're thinking, without stopping and worrying what someone would think if they read it -

- it's scary. 

It's Mostly the Birds

It's mostly the birds,

They sing and sway, they chirp,

All I want is a peaceful walk to my door. 

Those damn birds. 

Days are longer now, 

Saving daylight and stretching hours,

Fools that believe this means more life. 

Those damn birds. 

I just want sleep,

I left them all behind, the few that stayed,

They were having more fun than I. 

Those damn birds. 

Remember when you spoke?

Better yet, remember when I listened?

It's all I could've wanted. 

Those damn birds. 

They don't know the half,

They're so lovely and whimsical,

They make music just by being. 

Those damn birds. 

Somehow they have this gift,

They don't worry or wonder or think,

They're simply beautiful. 

Those damn birds. 

Their secret is no secret,

It's what they are and how they were made,

And it's just perfect.

Those damn birds. 

Sing me to sleep,

Tonight while I toss and turn and try,

I'll accept the noise that they make. 

Those damn birds. 

It's their time now,

How dare I interfere with a schedule, a routine,

A natural order of things. 

Those damn birds. 

Really it's just envy,

How they hop and stir and sweetly mumble,

They speak to only those listening ,

They don't cater,

There's no bargain,

There's no doubt,

They just are,

Happy to do so,

Or not,

Sounds happy .

Those lovely birds. 

DIY

Tweeker Carpet Freshener

What you'll need

1 old Welcome Mat, found while dumpster diving

Gnarly cone incense, nothing pleasant

A lighter or matches

Directions

Place welcome mat in front of non-tweeker neighbor's door. 

Place gnarly cone incense, two or three cones will suffice, on top of gross mat. 

Light all cone incense on fire. 

Especially useful for 

when the 6-toed, inbred, stray cats that you kind of take care of start pissing in front of the non-tweeker neighbor's door and the apartment complex has made you aware of the issue.   

Thinking of a Mister

 Waves came on, that song, "Waves," by Mr. Probz, while I was already in a mood. 

I'm in a mood. 

Often I sit and listen. I sit and listen to nothing; maybe this is meditation. 

Other times, maybe just as often, I sit and listen to music. This music is lyrically powerful. I listen to music with words that I love and voices I can sing along to. 

I used to wonder why sadness spawned more listening to sad songs. I used to. 

My face above the water - that is almost hopeful. 

My feet can't touch the ground. They can't? Nope, they couldn't. 

I'm thinking of someone who actually could have written the words. I'm thinking of him and his loved ones right now. 

We have a loved one in common and now I'm thinking of how grateful I should be. I'm grateful for his compassion and his patience. I admire his strength and devotion. I love his ambition and persistence. 

I'm thinking of this man who felt like the waves were pulling against him and how he just couldn't swim anymore. 

RIP A. 

Useless Words

I don't throw the word around. 

It's deliberate and strong. 

I say it because I do it and something beats so loud inside me that to not say it would be like lying. 

I don't need to say it. I want to. 

I don't want to hear it. I want to know it. 

As a writer, I know how useless words can be. 

My Lovely Lady Bumps

Self-diagnosis? 

Cystic acne. 

You can rub your boner now. 

St. Valentine Walks into a Bar

...and he orders a drink. It's called, "You're gonna get your period on Valentine's Day, soooo, you're not having sex and you're going to consume all the chocolate."

Bartender says, "Comin' right up."

Whatever you do - Don't tell anyone

Sometimes I feel like a secret. 

Humble Brog

Mmm, a body image inspired blog entry. 

Most days I'm fine - I like to think I take care of myself; I eat well, get as much sleep as possible, I use various forms of exercise (I apologize to everyone I know for how often I have been saying the word, "yoga.") and I drink a lot of water. 

But some days, much like Amy Poehler  states in her brilliantly relatable Yes, Please,  there is a demon telling me terrible, awful things that seem so much more believable than any of the compliments I may receive on any given day. 

Here's the thing - I'm not fat - and I don't like using that word. "Fat," is such an ugly and hateful word. I don't care for it just like I don't care for another three-letter, nasty F word used against a specific type of person. (fag. The word is fag)

I know I am not fat but I also know my image of myself is somewhat distorted and I don't know that it ever won't be. 

I don't have a tight stomach and my sides are not taught, there absolutely are some handles to love. My stretch marks are not super visible but they are there, where they once were deep and purple they are now pale and smooth. When I stand tall and straight I look just fine. 

However, when I don't have the comfort of clothing and am in compromising positions (sex. I mean sex) my tummy is a concern. My thighs jiggle. I have skin that's left from when I once had mass to fill it. 

At my heaviest, I was 220lbs and I honestly do not know what I weigh now. I make it a point not to - This is what works for me. At the risk of soliciting concern, I am someone who has struggled with image-based-ED and by not constantly worrying about my weight, in numbers, I have found a healthier and happier way of being. 

I've read some articles and listened to some content that is pretty heavy (pun. It's a pun) on this issue lately and I just want to put my current thoughts down. What better place than this blog I promised myself I would keep up. 

This is what I look like and this is how I feel. Today is a good day. 

Lesson Laundered

You can learn a lot about a stranger in just a few minutes. 

You can learn how their day is by responding to, "how's your day?" You're both doing laundry and it's only polite to reciprocate the question. 

You can learn he wrote a song and finished a project he's been working on. 

You can learn he's vague. 

You can share when he, again, asks about your day. 

Now that you know he's actually looking for a conversation you can share actual information. He's an actual person -

Probably high and definitely under 20 years old, that kind of person. 

You can learn that yoga impresses him and he's, "invented a method of focus," based on an inanimate object. 

You can learn that he doesn't know this already exists but his ignorance spawns confidence. 

You will learn he probably finds you attractive because he wants to walk with you. 

You'll learn he does not wait long until he asks if you, "smoke trees," and that he works in the restaurant business.

He'll learn that your boyfriend does too and you'll learn that the word, "boyfriend," bothers him. 

You'll find out he's looking for a web designer for his project - and you'll learn he pegged you for one by the astonished disappointment when you you say, "no," to, "do you do graphic design?" 

Then you'll learn that maybe you're sharing that this is enough, with your body language and tone? 

You'll learn he wants a handshake and then vocalizes the desire for a hug. 

You'll learn that you don't mind saying, "you're being weird," to a total stranger. 

You'll learn that a high, teenage boy is kind of strong when he just decides that a hug is going to happen. 

He'll eventually learn that maybe that isn't appropriate. 

Hopefully I helped teach him something. 

PG - 30

Even at - no - especially at 30, I require some parental guidance. 

Separate issues, in the past two days, meant I would have the opportunity for advice from each of my parents. 

Mom's came in a loving, warranted way. A suggestion based on a sensitive subject in my comedy show that may have stirred up some emotion in a loved one due to recent tragedy. She was right. 

Dad's was, "if it was broken, you'd have two black eyes." 

A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Strip Club

I carded a beautiful, young brunette. 

It's what I do. In my line of work, you must check the ID of anyone who appears to be under the age of 30. You have to be 18 to be in the store that I work in. 

It's sexy stuff. 

She was polite and immediately said, "I've seen you do improv, you're funny as hell."

This made my night. 

This made my night because I love compliments - because I'm a person - and because she said, "improv." 

She didn't say, "I've seen you perform," or, "I've seen you do comedy." She said , "improv."

Because of my recent venture with The GET, I assumed it was that and said, "wow, thank you. Recently?" And she replied, "no, a while ago, at The Onyx," 

This means it was over a year ago and she remembered me. She remembered me being, "funny as hell."

I don't like working the swing shift. Selfishly and unapologetically I have a personal life that is full and projects I am passionate about that work for most of my teammates and loved ones in the evenings. They have normal jobs that end at 5pm, leaving the evening hours open to write, rehearse, bond, build, etc. 

I'm also aware that my passion does not pay and, because I'm a person, I need to make work a priority. So in missing rehearsal for our weekly show, I was given this reminder of why I do what I love to do. 

I am exhausted and busy. I give myself no down time and even writing this blog, while grocery shopping, is hard to squeeze in. Between writing, rehearsing, shows several times a week, work, various forms of self improvement, free time is a luxury I will not afford myself right now. I accept full responsibility for how little of it I have. 

I rarely see my boyfriend, who, yesterday, I wanted to see and hold and comfort more than I have the whole time we have been together. He was the recipient of devastating news... as a loved one, it would have been nice to stop everything and be there for him. Alas, it wasn't a possibility. I also know he is surrounded by love and my absence will not break him. 

But I digress, the time I have is valuable and I choose to spend it with absolute love, a lot of which ends up being the craft I was recognized for. 

This life is so short and we are reminded every single day just how short it can be. How you spend your time is so fucking important to your health and your happiness. It's entirely up to you. 

Yes I'm tired - yes I look it - yes I just noticed it's been a week since I've washed my hair (I shower every day - please, to the three readers, know that) but I am making these choices. 

I hope that pretty, young stripper makes it to another one of my shows. 

Nope

Don't. Don't do it. 

Don't say the words you're thinking. 

Don't be honest

Any good, responsible person will advise against it  

Don't say, "I miss you." 

Don't let the person know. 

Do the opposite of what your gut tells you. 

You haven't done right up to this point so why do what you're being told to now?

Don't. 

If you don't learn from your mistakes you're hopeless. 

You've been wrong. A. Lot. 

Here you are doing it again.  

Difference is you expect nothing

So maybe we have learned. 

Just Two

The Get. 

First show. 

Sold out. 

Thank you.