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Thursday, 20 January 2011 (our last, best hope) 12:10pm There. Finished up the current batch of assignments. Took much longer than I'd have liked, but, well, I'm still new at this. 4:41pm It occurs to me that the afternoon gymming just isn't happening anymore, nor is it likely to, which is kinda ironic considering that I'm working from home now and therefore it's easier to work into my schedule. But I don't know that I necessarily need it anymore. Unless, that is, my weight refuses to go below 195. Not that I care about such things. There'd been some talk about going dancing at The Stud tonight with Ilene et al, but it looks like that's not going to happen, at least not involving Ilene and I. Just as well, since it's a schoolnight for me, and I can also save up various energies for the rest of the weekend. Her and I are going to get together for dinner at her place next week, though, which I'm very happy about. | ||
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Wednesday, 19 January 2011 (horizon line) 11:45am Before bootcamp this morning, I did an hour of primarily yoga-type stretching with one of the regulars. I think it's going to be one of my new regular things, or at least it will be in a few weeks when she returns from vacation. Things always seem to stop right after they start. After dropping off Marta at work this morning, I detoured to Target to get a new scale, digital with a big retro red-on-black LED display. It seems the "who can lose the most weight" competition in bootcamp is still happening, so it's good to be able to get exact numbers. Not that I care about the numbers, mind you. What am I, hypnotized by the patriarchal media's beauty standards or something? As if. Meanwhile, now that I officially consider myself off the job market and don't have to worry too much about my hireability, it occurs to me that I still have a nearly-full two year-old bottle of Manic Panic Fuschia Shock in my medicine cabinet. It may be time to tart up my bangs again. A few strands, anyway. 2:45pm My copy (two copies, actually) of The Book of Hours finally arrived. It's a lovely volume, and seeing my stories translated into German makes me feel all worldly, far more than I really am. And I'm quite proud of the stories, too. As is usual with books I've been in, my material is by no means the best—I'm the first to admit that—but it isn't quite like anyone else's work, either. For better or worse, my voice is my own. 9:11pm It looks like the Cosplay kids have been discovering the Pris look in a big way over the past few years. Good. That gives me more to work with, I reckon. | ||
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Tuesday, 18 January 2011 (no escape) 8:48am As I was doing my usual Tuesday morning interval training on the yellow-and-gray machines with Yvette and the others, we were talking about our weekends. Yvette took her daughter on Friday to see the snow and spend the night in Reno. When she asked me how my weekend went, I wanted to say so my girlfriend and i, we went to what's called a floor party on friday, organized by my good friend ilene—who, when i look back at who's stuck around and who hasn't over the years, is without a doubt one of my very best friends because she's there and always wants me around, which is a rare and precious thing—and a couple of the other people there i know from karaoke and frolic and love triangle and some i don't think i'd met before at all, but there was nobody there who skeeved me out at all, no boys who had an excess of testosterone or any pressing need to prove their masculinity, and so we started with the 'shrooms first around four in the afternoon, and they were baked inside chocolate, i never would have guessed from the taste that they were awash in psilocybin, wouldn't have guessed at all until i started to come on about twenty minutes later,and i found myself reflecting on the fact that had chocolate been involved when conk and i did mushrooms that in night in july of '89, which was the first time i had done any controlled substance of any sort, before i'd ever smoked grass or even had a drop of alcohol though i would do all those things as well as acid before the summer was over, but if the mushrooms that first night had been in chocolate rather than raw and icky-tasting my entire relationship to drugs might have turned out differently so i'm quite glad they weren't, though watching tom destroy his life with crack still would have put a fear of addiction into me, and in any event by the time a couple of people at the floor decided to venture out into the world, i was more than happy to just stay put because even getting off the couch where marta and i had taken up residence was enough of a chore, and of course by the time i was fully tripping i was able to move about the apartment with no problem, it's nothing i haven't done a million times before in many different locations, but at first there's always that feeling of yeah, i'm just going to stay right here, thanks, i'm still amazed that i was able to make it down to the shore of the russian river that beautiful day in '08 but of course it's really not difficult at all and ilene and 'shroomed entirely in golden gate park just a few months later, and in any event marta didn't want to go outside and i wanted to stay with her, and around six the ecastasy was busted out and the hippie was flipped, and we moved down from the couch onto the floor, i'd already been playing mega-footsy with ilene from the couch for a while and participating in what i can only really describe as a pile o' legs, male and female, with consent not so much implied as granted by a nod and a smile, both marta and i had been a little worried about the presence of boys at what was intended to be a super-touchyfeely party, and ilene had assured me that the protocol for these events was that the boys cannot do the approaching or flirting, it's entirely up to the girls, though as i anticipated once we got into the thick of things i'd be far less bothered by boys' bodies, limited as it was to rubbing of legs and such, and besides, as near as i could tell i was one of the few non-bisexuals of the group (a personality flaw on my part, wiring in my head that i wish was different but isn't) and the vast majority of pairing off and smoochfesting was actually taking place between boys, and i tell you, that's my kind of scene, and while marta wasn't feeling much up to participating due to external work-related stresses she gave me her blessing to do so, much to ilene's delight (ilene: thankyouforsharingyourgirlfriend marta: ofcourse) as well as my own and it was something i'd discussed with marta beforehand just to be on the safe side, making this one of the comparatively few times that the fact that my relationship with marta is non-monogamous has moved beyond the theoretical stage, or at least done so in my direction, what with marta living with her long-term boyfriend who goes with her to spend christmas in chicago with her mother (i'm still uncertain if she knows i exist, or more accurately if she knows my relationship to her daughter since i can't not have come up in conversation at least once (right?), and while this is what i signed on for sometimes it makes me sad but mostly i'm relieved that i don't have to do the in-law thing) and while i haven't been interested in dating anyone else since kristen and i fizzled and still don't want to i'd also be lying if i said the old restlessness doesn't occasionally spark up and sitting there on the pillowed floor with my back against the couch and marta sitting above and behind me with her legs at my side (i always try to keep one hand on marta no matter what else i'm doing) and my own legs sticking into the pile alongside the gods only know or care who else's, with occasionally cuddling and smooching with ilene (as she makes her rounds getting cuddle-and-smooch time with everyone in the group like the conscientious hostess that she is) or the mild arm-cuddling and non-verbal flirting with the beautiful dark-haired russian girl whom i could never quite work up the courage to ask to kiss even though we were both rolling and that's what this whole event was about but i still have a hard time getting past the fear of being where i'm not wanted and i did occasionally consider hooking up with one of the boys but ran into the same problem as always which is that i simply didn't wanna and kissing a boy when there were girls about always feels like wasted potential energy but in any event i came to realize that this was what i needed to maintain balance, not just while on drugs but in general, the occasional bits of cuddling and smooching with ilene or whomever (the russian girl next time, maybe?) and for as much as i wished marta was more actively involved in it all and down on the ground getting intimate with ilene and i and i want her to continue doing these extracurricular things because i love her that's always been my concept of an ideal relationship but i also suspect that i'll continue doing it in the future whether she's able to be there or not because it's something resembling reciprocity but anyway, it was a really good night and it'll tide me over for quite some time, i'm sure but I didn't because my heartrate was pushing 170 and I just didn't have the available breath. 9:19am About to make my second (2nd) cup of Starbucks Via. Shit's getting real, yo. 5:12pm Yeah, didn't get quite as much done as I'd have liked. Being a hack copywriter is hard! But it's what I'm doing. Time to go pick up Marta now. | ||
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Monday, 17 January 2011 (one last sunrise) 7:12am Pretty great turnout at Bad Movie Night for The A-Team last night, especially considering that the Golden Globes were on. Afterward, I went to Shotwell's and had both half a glass of beer and an entire cheese tamale. It's a party weekend, after all. No gym this morning, both because I'm not doing it Mondays so much anymore and because it's only open a few hours because of the holiday. Don't wanna deal with that kind of crowd. Besides, work to do, not the least of which is getting the proposal finished and sent off to my agent. Marta and I are also talking about going to New York for spring break. It may actually happen this time. 11:14am Okay, I've finished up the newish Bottomfeeder proposal and sent it off to my agent. Now, to get to job-work. I have a new batch of things I need to write, and I'd like to have them done by tomorrow, because that's the kind of pace I feel I should be working at. The marketing guy hasn't said word one about exactly how productive he wants me to be, which presumably means that my pace is just fine, but still. | ||
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Sunday, 16 January 2011 (the prayers came to an end) 12:11pm Good heavens, but I'm hungry today. It's to be expected, considering how comparatively little I've eaten since Friday morning. | ||
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Saturday, 15 January 2011 (tightrope's ailing) 9:41am It's always a little melancholy when you start cleaning up the blacklight toys and the empty nitrous cartridges the next morning. 4:13pm But it's also the best kind of melancholy, that of an evening well spent, starting with 'shrooms in the afternoon and then flipping the hippie a couple hours later, all in a nice spacious living room with mattresses and blankets and pillows, a proper environment for group cuddling and smooching and, of course, heart-to-hearting thanks to the truth serum effect of ecstasy. And we all more or less crashed by midnight, meaning we actually got a good night's sleep. And the morning was nice and chill, with a lovely homemade breakfast (the first food I'd eaten since breakfast yesterday morning, not counting a few pieces of fruit last night), and more lying around and chatting, at least until the outside world finally demanded our attention and we scattered. I slept and I ate, but I'm still a tad sluggish, and I don't expect I'll be quite up to full snuff until tomorrow, but that's okay. My legs in particular are killing me, but that's just from bootcamp yesterday morning. My body had quite an adventure all day long. | ||
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Friday, 14 January 2011 (third guest) 8:13am This morning, the bootcamp instructor mentioned in passing that she's going to be moving out of San Francisco in June. Everything goes away. I'm trying not to think about it too much, beyond making these next six months count, and the fact that the Y will surely find someone to continue teaching the class. It won't be the same, but then again, what it is? Marta and I are going to a floor party with Ilene and bunch of her friends (who are becoming my friends as well as I slowly integrate into the group) this afternoon, so we'll be pretty much isolated from the outside world until tomorrow morning. That's the plan, anyway. In the meantime, until I leave around noon, I intend to clean the Black Light District. I hate coming home from a trip to a messy apartment, regardless of whether the trip is external or internal. The marketing guy continues to be happy with my work, and I'll be getting a raise soon. I think part of me is not quite convinced that this is, in fact, happening. 9:25am My agent just nudged me for that proposal. Yikes. Time to switch horses. I'm sure I can get this done in the next two hours. 10:53am Oh, there's no way I'm going to be able to finish the proposal in time, especially since I have to almost completely rewrite the synopsis. Fortunately, my agent just confirmed that since it's mid-Friday afternoon in New York, the editor wouldn't read it until Monday anyhow. Whew. At least now I know what I'm doing on Sunday, and in the meantime, I have more cleaning and preparation for the party. 4:01pm Airplane mode is my friend. | ||
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Thursday, 13 January 2011 (exquisite sender) 5:14pm The temptation to give the gym a miss this morning was strong, sleep deprivation being what it is, but I made it. When I got back home and showered and dressed, just for kicks I laid down to see if a nap would ensue. It didn't, so I got up, made my first cup of coffee, and got to work. My fear these last few days has been that I'm not being productive enough, and what I have been producing hasn't been up to snuff, especially since my own voice (including what I hope are subtle inside jokes) has been creeping into it more and more. If that's the case, marketing guy hasn't so much as hinted at it—quite to the contrary, he's been very happy with my work. The contract has been signed and counter-signed, I've sent off my W-9, and we've discussed the invoicing system, so everything is real. I still want to be more productive, if only for my own sake (the more I produce, the more I earn, and I just know I can do better than I am right now), but otherwise, I think I'm going to be fine. I think I can officially consider myself employed, and doing something I've always wanted to do. Sometimes, it all works out. | ||
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Wednesday, 12 January 2011 (crooked site winding) 12:31pm Wow. I'm not at all certain how or why this happened, but I got in and out of the San Francisco General Hospital Pharmacy in about forty-five minutes. The parking garage being closed was a major problem, since the free street parking in the neighborhood is only for an hour (and of course the metered parking presents a similar problem in that once I'm in line I can't very well leave to feed the meter), but by god, there was exactly one person in line ahead of me. Small freakin' miracles. 1:47pm From one of them: Sherilyn's certainly a talented writer; my concern is that the counterculture/subculture angle would make this a little too niche for the type of memoir we publish.Which I totally get. Though I do believe that Bottomfeeder is accessible to a broad audience, a lot of people are automatically scared off by the subject matter, and who can blame them? In any event, this kind of rejection makes me feel talented (they called me that, even!) and dangerous at the same time. Not a bad combination. And the other editor response was not a rejection, but a request for my agent to send them an actual full-on proposal, including my selling points and media experience and stuff like that. I did a couple proposals like that before I signed on with my agent, so it won't be too difficult, but I get the impression it's unusual. In any event, I'm taking it as a good sign, because anything that isn't a "no" is a good sign. 5:21pm Heading to Marta's place to have dinner and hang out for a few hours before I meet Ilene at the Cat Club for karaoke. It's going to be a late schoolnight, but those are okay now and then. sometime after midnight That was fun, even though I only managed to sneak in one song (Pink's "So What") since the place was overrun by what I interepreted as an invasion force from the Marina. And, really, a group of drunk Marina types sining "What's Up" is like combining two horrible things to create a third, far more horrible thing. Of course, I'm horribly classist, so there's that. I'll be lucky to get four hours of sleep now, but I'm not not going to the gym tomorrow morning. | ||
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Tuesday, 11 January 2011 (a long time running for the suicide strays) 7:22am The woman who works the counter in the mornings at the YMCA has officially gone from keep it up! you're doing great! to honey, you really need to stop losing weight—you're getting too thin. Which I don't agree with on any level, but it's always nice to hear. 8:09am A newish iPhone on Verzion was just announced to much fanfare, but, nah. Switching providers sounds like way more work than I want to deal with right now, and I've never really had a problem with AT&T. At least I can actually make calls from home, which I couldn't with my old phone. Second day of my second week as a work-at-home copywriter, and one thing is becoming glaringly obvious: I need to stock up on coffee. I don't have all that many vices left, but that's turning into a big one. 2:01pm Feh. Ingrown toenail, left foot, little toe. I love my father, but jeez, I hate his foot DNA. 4:11pm seriously, connelly. do not screw this up. 5:42pm Okay. Time to pull myself away from my work—which I can't help feeling like I should doing much faster than I am—and go pick up Marta. We're doing the Tuesday night thing this week, since Friday's going to be, to put it mildly, an adventure. | ||
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