my mondays are better than yours

Burlesque on Saturday. fun show. nice ladies that have real bodies make me feel good about myself. they have bigger boobs, but thick thighs and i think i can relate. most of all i want some new clothes, dresses that tear away and lots of feather boas and sexy underwear. I'll always be a girly girl. I wore a black pencil skirt, my beatnik stripes sleeveless turtleneck and black laceup corset belt, fishnets and patent leather heels and my black beret. Ooh la la. I felt way underdressed. But it was dark. Convinced C to go with and I think he had a good time too. It was a great show. I love the look in the ladies eyes when they perform. it's that look when you know you've got that audience eating out the palm of your hand. i love that feeling. Sunday spent the day going thru old journals back all the way to 99. That would have been when I had only been married for 2 years. It's crazy. There is some good work I can use, and last night at Bills I read some and it went over well. The only thing about the old journals that bothered me was that I feel like I can see the bipolar in writing. The manic love tones, and the very low lows. Too many lows. How much of my life have i spent in a funk of lowness? It's beginning to become very clear this is an issue and that it always has been. Time to find someone to help. All of that being said, last night was great. Desmene was great with Zim on background blues guitar. There were lots of old and new friends. We met at Lilly's new pad just up the street before the show and had a few drinks and talks. Love my friends. We made our way to Bill's and I said hello to Paul and talked to him a bit before the overwhelming depression in him kicked in. I told him I was sorry that I pushed him away so hard, but that I am still learning how to create boundries. It's true, I still am. Boundries that will let me keep friends without entirely pushing them away forever. It's a sticky thing. Well it was good to be near him, afterall we've been friends since before I even met C. It's a strange thing to go thru so much with someone but always be so removed, just due to all the mental instability (on both sides) I tell him about his kids. I tell him he needs to text them more often, and that they are beautiful when they are at the store eating all the candy and drinking all the water and touching everything gently with thier small hands. Always wearing thier bike helmets, always asking questions about everything, and always being so polite. I wish the world for them, but most of all I wish for a father that is well enought to spend more than a few hours a week with them at a time. So much amazing poetry out there. It was like being in some great beat room, drinking wine, snapping it up and couples making out between the tall aisles of records. This is my element. This is my place in life. I can't get enough of the way I feel around live performance. Screw the movies and screw the radio. i want real drama and music in my face. The energy that is exchanged is electric vibrations of positiveness. It makes me feel so good all over. The girls in thier pasties, the musicians bleeding onto thier guitars and microphones, the poets closing thier eyes and pointing thier fingers and swaying thier hips to thier own rythem.. on yeah, thats where I want to be. Always. And now today, slept like a stone till 11:30, now drinking water with lemon, washing clothes and watching the sun peek out like hide and seek. The dogs (wolves) next door and sleeping under the trees, and I think the wind must still be cool. The hardwood floors in the house are chilly. I could be doing so much more today than I am, but I love my time alone. Have I told you that? I really love my time alone. Sure sometimes I need to be around people, but mostly I want to be here in my home, stroking Mars the cat and listening to some music on the kitchen radio. For lunch I'm boiling eggs. My scale MUST be tripping. I can't be gaining so much weight on eating nothing. It's time to start writing it all down again. Wednesday Fel and I are going to zumba. Oh yeah. I can't wait. Maybe that's all that counts. Today I need to take a jog and do some bowflex. Cooking fish tonight. wish me fish me luck. Fish and veggies and brown rice. Oh boy I sound old. And then I banish my husband to the bedroom (to sleep) so that maybe later we can listen to some jazz at the Amsterdam, and if not then we'll stay in and watch MASH and sleep good night dreams. The rest of my day, transcribing some of this poetry, working on the fiction, wash clothes and bedsheets, eat boiled eggs, peeling them over the sink under running water watching the squirrels try and bother the wolfdogs..feed the cat milk since no one is watching, fold clothes that smell like spring and watch the tall stalks of wildflowers and dandelions sway in this cold wind. Jog, stretch, shower and daydream some more. I've got some hardcore daydreaming today, and I can't think of a better day to do it on.