Dick pics. I told a story about dick pics. It wasn’t the worst story I’ve ever told. Might even be the best. The stage at St. Mark’s has a spotlight just bright enough to blind me. I did my best to emote, but ultimately it was a game of timing. The adrenaline of being on a stage didn’t overwhelm me this time. The fear is still there but my desire to tell the story wins out. My delivery still needs help but as a good friend once said, I get the point across.
I almost forgot. The most important discovery I’ve made since arriving in the Pacific Northwest. Further proof that everywhere is pretty much the same… Continue reading I Am Not My Hair
I just finished a 5 minute phone call with the most compassionate robot I’ve ever met. Continue reading Health Cares
Last night, I was propositioned by a couple. It started with a blonde woman sporting bottomless cleavage sidling up to me at the bar. I’d seen her come in behind an aging frat boy in a backwards baseball cap. Her guy took up a post on the opposite end of the bar. Slurring from the start, she opens with a diatribe about how she is much smarter than she seems. I smile and nod. To further convince me, she describes specific aspects of her appearance and assumptions people make because of it. I listen with sincerity, knowing all too well the plight of being pretty with big breasts. Continue reading Three, Some…
The most poignant parts of my life happened in books. Every time I discover something great it’s with a fictional companion. Not a wonder I feel destined to write a story. In the meantime, I’m working on telling my stories out loud. I’m the Jane Austen character that wishes she was Jane Austen, not believing in myself is part of the magic. That ability to zone out and take apart the world around me. Not caring what people think and simply continuing on my mission.
I feel freer now than I ever have. The problem is it hurts to breathe. I’m not wanting for anything except more time to process things. Constant sources of entertainment and new experiences. Potential to start over in career paths I once loved. Living in denial this long is a bit like leaving a cult (or a bunker). The cost of living in my previous life was so infinitely higher than here. Shifts in resources have been dramatic to say the least but the difference is truly the human resources.
Some family networks are too large to fail. Fortunately, I found a great divestment option that only costs me biological children. A prodigal soul made better by the journey, regardless of results. I come from a fertile bunch and resisting the call of motherhood was never an easy decision. My only problem is sapiosexuality doesn’t promote good genetics. I’m not a physical specimen that should get replicated. That said, I’m pretty sure I gave birth to a religion recently, so I might live up to my original namesake.
Since I’ve been in Seattle, I’ve managed to get laid twice and not lose my independence. I think mostly just to see if I could. I view myself as somewhat asexual these days, so it’s always a surprise when someone wants that sort of thing from me. I tried to play coy for a few days but my desire for orgasms is very real. I figure why not have some fun, right? My misguided motivation is probably why things didn’t shape up that well. Sort of like instant karma. Continue reading Bad Sex
Today I had two goals. Walk downtown to get my ORCA discounted bus pass and fill out the application for a new social security card. Naturally, walking in a new city alone, I packed my pocket knife. I never really got scared walking in Memphis because I know how to walk in that city – rarely. So far, walking in downtown Seattle doesn’t require that much situational awareness but new is new. I may be Memphis as fuck but it never hurts to have backup. Continue reading Federal Property
I didn’t remember I had use of my center rear view mirror until 45 minutes outside of Portland. Why, you might ask, am I driving back to Portland after making the daunting trek across the country only stopping to eat, sleep and see the Grand Canyon? To see a show of course. Symptoms are playing at a club near my friend’s place.
I need internet at home. It’s the last link in this chain of support I’ve rigged up. I’m on the west coast, I know what I want – now I just have to do it. Driving South for the first time this week, I decided it would be poignant to cue up the Dead Soldiers. The twang in Teddy Gene Mountain echoed off the evergreens around I-5 and I caught myself welling up. By One More Last Goodbye I was bawling like a baby. The Soldiers encompass a musical style that can only be described as Memphis. It’ll take me right back every time.
I’ll be there again this weekend for my official goodbye. It’s not that I won’t ever go back, I just know it won’t be for an amazingly long time. I can already tell that this side of the country is my new home. I know who I am and I get at least 6 months to figure out what I’m going to do with that.
The air in probate court is just as heavy as any other court. At least , for me because I always assume the worst where courtrooms are concerned. We all sat there huddled in squeaky leather chairs, footsteps shushed by thick navy carpet. Something as simple as a name doesn’t require much paperwork. The court only meets once a week for this specific reason and there are only half a dozen requests even that often. It’s the most service-like of the civil service proceedings I’ve witnessed. Continue reading Name Changed