That's full circle, I guess. For the record, I have no regrets. I expressed how I felt, and there's nothing wrong with that.

Erin has an idea for a spoken word show she wants to produce with me. Sure, why not.

Yet another photoshoot today, this time both Maddy and I at a friend's house. I haven't seen anything from the shoot with Reverend Michel yet. Probably won't until gets back from Burning Man. This is San Francisco, after all. Not much of anything is going to get done around here until after Burning Man.

sometime after midnight

does it always have to end in tears?

I miss doing this sort of thing for a living. It's so much fun. Ironically, CNET has a job listed which is not only in the same field as my recent place of employment, but, in all likelihood, would involve working with them. Naturally, I applied. I bet it's going to come up at the EDD appointment in a couple weeks: We Couldn't Help Noticing That You Keep On Applying For Jobs At CNET. i'm stalking them, because i still haven't gotten over being fired. someday, they'll realize they really want me back...

Newgate Prison. Yep, pretty much.

I'm talking to a faculty member of Fresno State University about having Lynnee perform there. Nothing is guaranteed yet, but the outlook is positive. He really dug Rise Above, so he's particularly enthusiastic about the idea. Frankly, I had a hunch he'd be into it when I saw the Teletubbies on his bookshelf. That's a good omen.

On my way to The Dark Room last night, I had my Negative Energy Knife sharpened at Jivano's. I was sure to compliment him on his poetry.

In two weeks, I have a mandatory appointment with the Employment Development Department to discuss my job search. Really trying not to think about that.

Next week, a picture of me from the photoshoot a couple weeks back in will be in an art exhibit. One night only, September 1, at Mikorp studio. I saw the proofs today. They look like I'm doing Manson—but not necessarily my best Manson.

My mom is buying me a copy of Rent Girl, which Maddy and I hadn't splurged on yet. No particular reason, really, aside from being proud of her daughter. How cool is she?

There's about to be more oxygen in the City, not to mention more parking spaces, as a huge chunk of the population heads for Burning Man. I envy them, and yet I don't.

On Monday, I applied for a DJ slot on Pirate Cat Radio. Haven't heard back yet. I should probably give them until next week before nudging. I've been listening, though, and have yet to hear anything which resembles what I'd be playing.

Lynnee has officially been cast as Chico in Duck Soup. Harpo is played by Seanetta, whose Mr. Toad scene in Zippy was the absolute high point of the play, period. Nothing else came close. Period. He was fucking brilliant. Groucho is Frederick Mead, whom I met briefly once but don't really know. And, perhaps neatest of all, Meliza Banales is playing Vera Marcel. We were sitting in my car outside her house last night when she accepted the role over the phone. It was heartening to see that she was really excited to do it. Not that it should make a difference to me one way or the other, since I had nothing to do with the casting, but I suspect I'll feel at least partially responsible if her and Lynnee don't have a good experience doing it. Makes no sense, but there it is.

I'd taken Meliza home after writing group. We'd both missed a couple months' worth of meetings for various reasons, so we had a lot of catching up to do. She's a comforting presence, and always helps me put things into perspective when I'm conflicted. I hate to say she's "down to earth" because it's such a cliche, but that's exactly what she is, so deal with it.

You Have To Do What's Safe For You.

Potent word, safe.

Meanwhile, Lynnee made it into Beth Lisick's column:

Ladies and dental dams, Lynn Breedlove! We knew, from witnessing her infamous Tribe 8 performances -- bisecting dildos, throwing her boobs around, etc. -- that she was all about the drama, and now she's tackling theater. Jessica Simpson, dreaming of Jeannie, take note! Now a new member of the slashie set (model/actor, musician/actor, socialite/singer), Breedlove is hoisting up a one-person (drama sees no gender) show at the still rather newly minted Dark Room.

Breedlove's show is a casually delivered parking complex of meditations on gender, childhood, sex, politics and whatever runs through the traffic in her head. She is the thinking person's spaz, tossing out pearls of wisdom while wearing laff-factory jeans.

A bonus: We know now that white men can jump, and, FYI, white-mannish types can rap. (This has been proven, but it's a point worth making a few times.) Her songs are great. Her beats, her lyrics, the whole bit. I sat in the audience a couple rows up from Breedlove's fashionable German mother, from whom I heard many laughs and a few groans, most notably after her daughter reflected on how much borrowed money she will likely never repay her parents. Opening for Breedlove was the delightful Erin O'Brient, host of Dolores Park Cafe's Oral Fixation open mike.

"Laff-factory jeans." Says it all, really.

Zippy closed last night. It was a good, enthusiastic crowd, the perfect way to end a long, somewhat troubled run. I'm both sad that it's over and happy to be moving on to other things, even if I'm not sure what those other things are. It's scary to think that my theatrical career might already be over. I'm probably just being dramatic. (Is that a pun?)

Some people who've seen the play call me Karen. Might as well get used to it, since even now I still get called Barbara, my character in Night of the Living Dead. Interestingly, nobody ever calls me "Frankie," from Hitch-hiker's Guide. Just as well.

Twice during the run of the play I told someone I was in it, and they responded without a hint of irony, Are You Playing Zippy? That always stung a little. I'd like to think I have some range, but do I look Iike I could play a stubbly male pinhead? Answer wisely.

Bryce tells me that a friend in the audience on Friday all but fell in love with me. My God, She's So Beautiful! She Said. I Told Her That You Were Not Only Very Much Taken, But That Maddy Would Kick Her Ass. Well, yeah, if she'd tried anything that would be true, but that's no reason for her not to have said anything to me in person. That's what I get for not immediately going out and mingling with the audience after the show, I guess; as a general rule, I would immediately go into Jim and Erin's room to change back into my regular clothes, during which time much of the crowd would leave. Probably missed a lot of (figurative) blowjobs as a result. I don't do all this just for the love (the ROI is all wrong), but I'll be sad when the love goes away.

Lynnee and I have a photoshoot with Reverend Michel today. I refuse to be daunted by the fact that I'm pushing 180.

10:39pm

The photo shoot went well. (Ever notice how "went well" seems to be my favorite positive yet vaguely noncommittal descriptor?) I'm glad I had the wherewithal to wear my Night of the Living Dead hairfall, the one which came in so handy for the Rent Girl shoot. More to the point, I'm glad Maddy was willing to put it on me, since I'm lacking the necessary dexterity. We'd had a rather ugly fight earlier that afternoon, and, really, I would have understood if she'd decided she didn't want to assist. I'm very grateful that she did, because I'm extremely shallow and vain.

As is his wont, Reverend Michel took a vast quantity of pictures, so I'm bound to like some of them. There are a few which will be considered disturbing, mostly involving Lynnee's knife. But that's okay. The tough part was keeping up with Lynnee. He just has so much more...energy than I do, is certainly far less inhibited. I'm still struggling to overcome three decades' worth of knee-jerk stoicism—damn that Vulcan blood!—as well as my latest round of self-image issues.

Reverend Michel and I were looking through the pictures on the screen of his digital camera. In this batch, I was consciously attempting to recreate Britney's pose on the cover her first album, which I've always found rather sexy. Not quite as sexy as the video for the title track, but, really, what is? (Y'know, the fact that I gain any inspiration from her at all would seriously damage to whatever's left of my alt cred, so please don't tell anyone, okay? I'd probably never be allowed into the 94110 again if my feelings about pre-skank Christina Aguilera were revealed.) ick, I said. i don't like how i look in that one at all. Why? Michel asked. Because It Shows You Laughing And Enjoying Yourself? Fair question.

I'm trying. Honest, I am.