Saturday, December 31, 2016

The pain the art the love the joy the pleasure of pain

In attempts to calm my soul my musician buddy Paulie Think gave me this to listen to:::

The Pain Body, as described by Ekhart Tolle. I've listened a lot to him in the past and learned a lot, but I have not achieved this passive distance from my pain, past and present, as well as suffering as described in this video. 

We all know pain makes great music, cracked open and heart wide I think I've made my best record yet (the lone wolf meets the underdog) -- it's my "divorce record" all songs I've written in the last 2+ years after leaving my marriage.

I started this passage when I was in a lot of pain! 

I'm not in the deep emotional pain anymore, that was hard! But I still have some pain problemos. I have TMS; if youre interested in pain disorders. I'm trying to reorder it; that is my New Years Resolution. I really think I can help myself, I'm quite hopeful! This pain disorder centers in the brain and essentially cuts off oxygen to the muscles, sending a message that there is a problem there...but guess what!!!?? There is no problem with my back it is quite strong!

Anyway, back to my record. It is true! I have made my best record, and it was well-received.
It's not live on itunes yet but I'm hoping it will come soon.  See a review here>
It got a top 10! See here:> 

Imma start my year with some resolutions but I haven't written them yet........

Saturday, October 8, 2016

Mexican Not American

The Spanish Man was a gentleman.

The Spanish Man is NOT Spainish, he is Indio and the the color of his very dark reddish skin is enchanting. 

Those that send money home are delightful; but they may not believe in Christ which is fine by me; since I don't either. No Le pregunte sobre La Virgin.

I promised myself I would never date another Mexican; and don't mean Chicano, cause they are very possessive. And Macho. But dayum he could fix my car (mechanico) or likely help me with anything around the house, gladly. And that skintone! 

An American man or boychild wants a booty call; to meet at the club, for you to pay his meal or have sex before its time but the Indiginous Mextizo will take a girl to eat at her favorite Mexican food restaurant, let her order whatever she wants, allow her to take HERSELF to the club, cause she wanted to ride the scooter;  but still waits outside to pay her entrance to the club.

...Buys her fizzy water unsolicited, does not get wasted or take drugs and dances all night to Cajun music and wears sexy boots like the campesino that he is. 

Not country-western boots, COUNTRY boots. 

The Indian would have liked to take her home but does not in a million years expect to; speaks Spanish to her/me all night nor does he expect a kiss but probably would have delighted in one. 

He dances close but is not aggressive; and did not shove his tounge down her throat unexpectedly like the white man with the blonde mustache did on his first "date"; outside the same club; which actually wasn't a date at all. 

He works 7-5, M-F plays futball, tiene cuerpo athletico, goes to dance, and is my same age which makes me feel good and not competitive. Tomio tantito Cerveza but surprisingly does not chastise me when I smoke a cig. 

Discusses machismo, and says he hopes I never see his machismo side though if dates continue that is certainly inevitable. Girl has already felt the pull of possessiveness. 

So entirely NOT sure if dates will continue; not knowing if the color of skin can sustain the relationship, cause I would marry into that skintone; if only for a greencard or an even better permanent resident alien Visa. 

Friday, October 7, 2016

Babes Babes Babes! UGH Never Have I been so in love, nostalgic, and obsessive for you.

One sleepless night.
One documentary about Bob Weir; where said sleepless night found me snoozing to the delight of who is Bob Weir. 
One Fresh Air Interview with Bob Weir. 
A thousand plays of the record American Beauty as of late. 
Crying to said record. 
Feeling not so much like an American Beauty. 
Being surrounded by real time gorgeous smart, talented American Beauties. 
Being told unprovoked, many times that I'm one of these American Beauties. 
Not believing I'm worthy of the label. 

OK here it goes: confession is progression for me! Gotta get it out. 

I have been quite circular as of late in my thoughts surrounding my age, the grateful dead, my musicianship, my age, and the ages of others. 


And, maybe a loving touch. And a daddy. In this pursuit I have found myself in trouble! I have a dad, of course, but don't feel very connected. It doesn't take a rockstar therapist (though I certainly have one) have had several, in fact, to tell me that I need to: 

a. give myself the love I need
b. take care of the inner child
c. not rush into physical relationship
d. avoid the {{{compare and despair}}}

The last few people I have dated have all been younger than me; not by much, maybe a year or three. But I've found myself unexpectedly attracted to younger man. 

Anyway, I don't know what has happened. I've always gravitated to older men. ALWAYS> I like smarter men, too, smarter than me, please. And colorful, please.  But, lately I've experienced a certain egoism with my collected experience. Digressing...

For these reasons I'm not normally attracted to youngsters. And this particular one is not a good idea for me for reasons I'm not willing to write in public. 

Insert the Grateful Dead obsession. I have been feeling low, that I should be younger, more beautiful, have had earlier success, more talent, ad nauseam fears. 

Bob Weir comes into my life again. He has written his first batch of new songs in 30 YEARS! lol. Wow. Go Bob. Check out "Blue Mountain"

So far, they are a beautiful collection of songs. Thank you Bob. Getting to know him through his interviews has jogged my memories. 

There is a certain summer in 1991when the Grateful Dead was going to be at a three night stint in Las Vegas. (my current ((but not only -- I'm not crazy)) romantic interest was a 3 yo) 

My sister (yall know, the one and only taken to the other side way too young at 32) my best friend Laura Rosenbaum and I packed up our Birkenstocks, some beer in a cooler, and bought some tickets to the Dead and started the cross country path to Vegas. We had one ticket each for the nights. 

We got into a rollover car accident. 

We ended up, upside down in a ditch. 

We were all safe, but rattled. 

I don't remember how we got home; but we all got MIP's that came back to haunt me later$. 

Back in Austin I was LIVID not scared> how could this happen? Somewhere in my mind I knew it was my one and only chance to see the Dead (as it was) and my two best friends from high school, the Boyd twins were meeting me there. My compadres stayed behind.

The twins and their older brother Normie introduced me to the Dead; and in '89-'91 hippy culture was back full on. Me and my friends listened largely to Cream, The Dead, Cream, and the Dead, Neil Young, and I personally loved Joni Mitchell. *along with some Judy's, Paul Simon, & Lenny Kravitz. Let Love Rule? Mamma Said? Retro CLASSIC AMAZING love it still> Nostalgia.  

Anyway, I powered on. I bought a one way ticket and found myself one day late to the show I had ticket for. 

I looked and looked for a miracle. I didn't have to look hard. It was called "A miracle" if someone gave you a free ticket in; a spare ticket. 

I entered the stadium. I found my friends. I lost my friends. I got lost in the culture. I have NEVER experienced anything like it in my life since. 

The vibe was SO LOVING. I was not on acid yet. In one splendid moment The Dead was playing "Women are Smarter" it was religious. A real spiritual experience. 

I took some liquid acid. It didn't work. I slept in a bush on the strip. I wore a hippy skirt with a draw string and paisley's. 

I rode home with a sweet girl I met and we got gas vouchers all the way back; from you know various churches along the way. I bet you didn't know! Neither did I. It was a huge pain in the ass but it was an adventure. I've never seen her again. 

Now that those days are long long passed (I have never experienced anything that loving in a huge group of people ever, a real love fest filled with amazing music...) 


I'm a GenXer all the way. And I need to feel empowered by that; or just empowered for who I am. 

Sometimes I do. The beauties around me, they are largely 27, 28. They haven't started aging yet. They are talented and gorgeous. They could easily be perceived to my arrested mental state to be a threat. But they're not. 

They have so much to offer me; and I cherish them. I cherish what is real. You know who you are. 

Saturday, September 24, 2016

Time travel // some other lifetime

Spain! We have one more night together. I already miss you; your cobblestone streets, your strong cafe con leche, your gorgeous women....

Last night on the street, on my way to meet Raindogg, I passed an old man on the corner playing beautiful Italian style accordion. I dropped 3 euros in his cup and asked to take a picture - I started the video so I could share him. The video on the phone wouldn't work. As I got more and more excited about his playing his tune; he started playing more and better, playing to me. 

He was amazing, like something out of a Fellini movie. I started tearing up, overcome with joy.

I still don't know what was causing my emotion. I let him know he moved me to tears. He nodded his head.

Tuesday, September 20, 2016

In three minutes....

In three minutes the alarm will go off. I've been up all night, and for nights on end really. My spirit is quite thrilled with the state of things, so very much that it doesn't want to rest.

Ug. Jennie and I are at a hostel and I have Bob Marley on the earphones to literally drone out the hurricane orchestra of snoring that Jenni is infamous for. 

Our car got locked in a parking garage leaving us in Tarifa unexpectedly for this night. This is surfer town with a bunch of hipster surfer Europeans. I think we all wish we could stay longer and meet people but we pushing on. 

I have been reflecting at my burst of art luck; traveling to foreign countries to play, getting to play ACL this year, and singing with two different country musicians on records (more later I don't want to jinx) and a new record that I'm so proud of.

.....but it has not always been. How did I make it through that traveling drought that lasted 5 years? I went nowhere I was too broke, and or I didn't have anywhere to go. Or I didn't want to go anywhere I'm not sure what happened, but I had a long period of vast creative nothingness exciting; which for me is rather intolerable. 

I was depressed, yes, and I think this is a period following my sisters sudden death; and I was good to hang onto my own life, not drowning just as she did. 

Ironically, the descent to fun now, 10 years in the making, started with a little church my husband and I bought in the Bartlett, TX. 

It was a Victorian manse he found online, and he got excited. We went out to see it: two properties across from each other; one a huge Victorian house that was falling in but still had a ton of charm. 

The other, a property I bought myself:: a little house on the prarie church with huge clear stained glass windows on all sides. 

Bill was selling the two places; about 50g each. He worked in Fort Hood for the army but moreover, he was a psychic medium. 

Walking around the two places, he asked me-- do you have someone that passed over that looks like you? I don't want to scare you (the place was filled horder style with a ton of crap; and a piano) 

...but it's terribly distracting. She's running around; she's playing on the piano right now she's so excited for you about your new church. 

I'm sure I burst into tears. It has been 2 years since her death and I was a shell; going through  the motions; playing guitar in a band I started called the Easies, simple garage rock. 

He said I know nothing about music, but she wants to tell you something. It might be hard for me to explain it to you.

He described the neck of the guitar, the head, the tuning pegs. He said your sister is pointing to these things; she said, "you sound like crap."

"You need to set up your guitar" change out those pegs for better, set the action. I was playing a red Epiphone full hollow body made in Japan in the 90's.

He said a lot more things, about how depressed I was, she was worried about me. He said things only she would know, like when we were high in Barbados and with my cousins on a family trip, and a guy tried to give us a ride. They all wanted to go into the car- we were lost. 

Well, I actually was the only one that was high out of my mind but I got a bad vibe. She said (through Bill) you saved our ass. 

Anyway, only things my sister would know. A drought of shitty shows, and no traveling insued while I went under trying to pay for the church - I was broker than I have ever been. 

I stayed in touch with Bill for years; and he, with a couple others, guided me out of that joyless funk.

Yesterday in Tangier, all us musicians were in a rug shop. I'm obsessed with Persian rugs - like my dad. 

I went up to the top to look more. I was there alone with the sales men. 

They rolled one out for me. Prayer time happened, it was 5:30. The Muslims started singing....

I hit my knees And stretched out my arms and said give me a minute. 

I connected; I said thank you. I said sorry I have been in joy land for so long, in a sensory hurricane of music and earthly things. I said thank you God. 

After 5 mins I got up. The sales man said why are you crying???

I said you all connect 5x a day.....

Nurkie and band 

Mike and Kevin treated us to food and a cabana on the Mediterranean :: they are 2 NYers that came to have fun with Raindogg, my bass player....Mike featured right:-) it was a 1500$ day. That's Euros people!!!!!! Lol 

Thursday, September 1, 2016

A real true recovery story:::when the spiritual malady is overcome, we straighten out mentally and physically

Ugh!!!!!!! I'm dragging my feet through another fourth step you know who you are. 

2 big raging resentments have eradicated my sleeping, eating, joy and that lovely serenity that I have missed. I'm rarely too serene anyway, but I'm down to 119 pounds and I've rarely been this thin. 

Manytimes relationships about face and people don't act right. One thing that has helped me is saying to myself: People, including me, are allowed to end friendships and relationships at any time. Usually people are shit heads about it; and that is what I'm angry about. Not the loss itself even. I'm hurt. 

I wanted, instead of focusing on the loss, recount in brief a successful recovery story. 

Http:// It should be a website but it's just a relationship. One of 10 years plus. More like 15. Bonnie and her twin were in my first meeting ever; I was 27. 

Duuuuuuude! Me and Bonnie had been at odds for nearly 10 years. Many in the community have experienced how her personality is trying, rough, aggressive, bipolar, etc. she is troubled. 

She was openly aggressive and mean to me; like the time I said hi and she yelled something rude in the parking lot back at me at Cafe Mundi. At that time I laughed and said, "that's Bonnie".

Butt I was also intrigued by her::: she's gorgeous, musically talented, and wears great clothes. 

All the beauty outside didn't mask her troubles. Hot and cold people drive me crazy I hate being around them. And that's her. Nice one minute and mean the next. I would see her multiple times a week. 

At a really low point in my life, after my grandpa died, I was unexpectedly depressed. (That grandpa wasn't that great in many ways but I digress) The house went to shit for months on end. I remember that; and one day I had enough of Bonnie. I picked up the sword and started an emotional war with her. 

I decided, in my fucked up way to hate her with all my might. I was going to kick her ass too! At the peak of this war, at a meeting, she shoved past me on a stairwell when I refused to move and I threatened to throw her down the stairs. Not my shining moment! 

After multiple 4th steps on her my sponsor said look you need some outside help. You've already done the AA work around this; this is family of origin issue. Deeper; way deeper than her. She triggered my abusive upbringing and all the anger at her-me-them was a lightening rod that was about to send me to the hospital. 

I got a therapist that did EMDR (thank you SIMS) again, and again you saved my life and countless other musicians....we're sensitive beings!

Kathy helped my process my trauma with sounds that bounce from ear to ear; I'm not sure the science but when you think about what troubles you; it helps move it from your left brain to right brain. Trauma gets stuck in the brain of some; and stays there haunting through triggers that happen in normal life. Kinda like when veterans of war hear gun shots and jump; out of fear. 

I processed the fear around her (my brain was reacting like there was a physical threat every time I saw her; a fight or flight reaction) and it was absurd; but very real to me. I thought I was going insane.

After a very few rounds of EMDR (the first time I did it my subconscious brain flipped like a rolladex firing off old experiences and making connections so fast my conscious brain couldn't keep up with it)....

I was sane again and I decided my plan of dealing with her. 

I simply ignored her so completely that she didn't exist; I wouldn't be in ear shot or eye distance and if I was I'd move. A few times severe fear flared up again but mostly it was gone. I continued this for years! About 4. 

After my divorce, about 1.5 years ago I told (my) heart-wrenching story full of tears to a full room of recovery people. I don't hold back or mince details; I told only the truth and I didn't gloss over my personal struggles. I hate when people share about how great it all is - being sober - bull shit. It's hard. 

Let me clarify: it's not hard to abstain from drinking. I mean life is hard because people die, you disappoint the ones you love, and don't get the things you think are going to make you happy and when you do get them you're still not happy. 

There's no way around grief and disappointment but through it; and if i don't pass through it;  it will eat me up via misery and self loathing. Lol that's just me. 

Anyway I told this here story and felt the joy of expressing myself. B was in the front row and I had to angle myself not to look at the pretty not so pretty mug.

Afterwards she came up to me in tears. I'm sorry I do this she said. (Paraphrasing) I act mean and I don't want to be that person anymore. We are both going to be in this meeting. What have I done to you for you to treat me this way?

I said, (paraphrasing) you did just what you said: for no good reason, you have been mean to me  from day one targeting me with your anger and hostility. I have hated you a long time. I think you're an interesting person and we probably have more alike than different.

I appreciate your bold apology and I forgive you. Let's hug. 

YEARS of tension melted instantly. For another year I stayed clear maybe giving a slight smile or a wave but never getting to close....

Until last weekend. She came over to talk to me and sat by me at a meeting. 

Huzzah! If only everyone could be so honest, so brave, so real. So willing to heal.

Monday, August 29, 2016

This pop culture sex! I find it all quite depressing! Early sexualitymeets midlife crisis

The book I'm reading, girl on a train::: it's quite depressing! Interesting yet sad:: alchoholics, love lost, longing. Train rides, alcoholic blackouts, infidelities....So  far I can't stomach it too well; but I read on.

Same goes for the Netflix Stranger Things:::a young boy lost/missing, a girl losing herself to a boy before she's ready. Innocence's all so Generation X! By that I mean misguided and troubled. It's Even set in the 80's. Poltergeist mixed with ET and Lynch's Fire Walk with me. I'm only watching it cause everyone said how great it is. We'll see.

It has, in a way brought me back to my earliest girlhood romantic and sexual experiences; and I only write this that I might not continue to make the same mistakes; though I might.

I have mommy AND daddy issues I laugh to my recovery friends. 

My very first boyfriend, Harper*, in Houston. We had a lovely time of it! I'd ride my bike to his house after school and we'd spend hours smooching. I don't know if I thought about love for 2 seconds; it was not very intimate but it was playful. 

About after two weeks he asked me to the movies; where all of our schoolmates would be. I got a weird vibe. He was ignoring me; I was what? 13? 14? I knew something was up and he soon dumped me for my teammate: a very tall blonde volleyball player. I don't remember what else happened but me and that volleyball player spent the next 6 years together playing on the same team; all the way to Varsity. (Sports kept me out of so much trouble) I don't remember her apologizing but she might have. Im sure it was awful; but I don't recall much emotional pain associated. 

My next experience I remember was falling for a guy named Jason. We're still friends!!!! He had a hurt knee and was in the girls volleyball courts working on physical therapy everyday. He was a Christian. The ball would roll in there every now and again; and we'd have a fun discourse. He was a senior though, and me a freshman. We did this all year, hanging out as friends, writing notes, just being silly. When the end of the year came, he asked my sister to his Senior prom! She was a junior. They barely knew each other. I cried. I remember her saying i had no idea Ally. We never did go for the same guys. 

A year later when he would come home on college break we did end up messing around- in my room! Mom was calling me on the phone (I guess I had my own line) lol put the door open, NOW. 

The next guy, I was maybe a junior? Don was a soul crusher. Older than me by a year He was the only artist I knew. We talked on the phone for weeks, hours at a time. I went on a jog and ended up at his house one day. We fooled around more than I had with anyone. It went pretty far but was quite one sided. (His parents didn't seem to mind the door was closed) I remember I used to pass him everyday between a class, and we would always say hi-- but we would never stop and talk. (Red flag!) Even as our phone conversation grew. The day after the heavy sexual exchange, I was excited to pass him, to see him. He ignored me; played the "I don't see you game" I was crushed. We never spoke again. 

Then there was Clint! He was a character; from the other side of the tracks. He revealed to me he had tried crack. It was startling; and I wasn't impressed. By this time I had done some drug experimentation on my own.

Clint and I Did a lot of phone talking and some house parties. But I grew tired of him i'mnot sure why. I don't remember much behind that. We had one more chat after I moved to Austin.

Ugh! There was Tim. I was impressed cause he was a drug dealer. (Burgeoning Underworld girl) I was exposed to joints, X, that's about it. I was all about him for a hot minute but I dumped him unceremoniously. He was hurt. 

Then the whopper! Eric**. I didn't even date him; but we were friends from art class and he was cute, a surfer. We're still Facebook friends and I guess there's a small chance he could read this. I hope he does, lol. He had a long-term girlfriend. I thought they broke up. My mom left me (I was a senior by then) for a trip to Hawaii. It was during the school year and I made an excuse not to go; I had to apply to college... I should have gone on that trip. 

I painfully lost my virginity to someone I didn't love or even really know too well. It was my choice; and I still regret it. 

All is to say? I'm confused. Still making unhealthy choices around my sexuality. Still learning what my boundaries are. 

I said, today, to my therapist, men are disgusting;  in response to a sexual pass one of my good guy friends made at me the other night; unprovoked. 

She said, well, no, some are. But many have learned that they can push over boundries that women have set for them. 

She said its your job to keep the boundries you have set for yourself. 

I think if I could have more clarity and insight to myself, and around my boundries (never my strong suit) I wouldn't have made or continue to make such crushing romantic mistakes. 

I really do. 

Both Harper and Eric are fat and ugly now; they look like Texas sized frat boys

Sunday, August 21, 2016

If life is so hard, why do I stay sober?

Yes it is! It's HARD! Not without its joys, but man this year is a bitch. Recently lost 2 best friends::: really three if you count my cheating manboy, I do miss his companionship but.......Imma...

Keep on trucking! One of the girls honesty; good riddance but man what a selfish one! Thanks for all you've taken. 

The other, a simple parting for awhile. Or forever, either is fine. I've made two other new friends, both funny, smart, gorgeous, crazy, loyal AND darling::: sober too- to fill up my dance card again. BONUS: Another One! That makes three - a dike new best friend - I get to see how the other half lives. 

I was reading an amazing article by a newly sober woman and I got to thinking: Why? Why do I stay sober when everybody else is cutting loose and tying one on? Escaping from their day with a margarita? How do I carry on!?'

I rapid fire thought of some reasons why I keep on keeping on; trudging the sober road to happy destiny....vain or otherwise 

-I don't wallow in pain; or drink it down; I process it and TRY and move on. How many regrets and resentments I had when using! How looooooong they stuck around to slowly eat me alive; shit piles up when you check out.
-I can forgive AND say I'm was rare for those two things to happen in my previous life
-I have goals and I achieve them; sometimes quickly sometimes slowly...but regardless of those goals I know what joy feels like - and though it is illusive at times, I know it will return.
-my spirit tells me what I like- cause before I wasn't clear so I just quiet down and listen and I call my angels to guide me and on a good day my head doesnt race and it stops forcing its hurt ego on me
-I don't believe in the bible my dear readers, to me the book is just allegorical stories, HIS-stories passed down and Jesus is ok, I like him but he's not going to save anything or come down from the sky. Just listen and get some support.  It could be Jesus or the Buda does it matter? 
-I will never have the right to feel truly that I'm Alone, or lonely, or beyond help because in recovery support; life bearing support is only an honest conversation away. It has saved me so many times.
-I know how to ask for help or more importantly when I need to ask for it
-I realize I LOve Humans! I'm a people person. I rarely want to chit chat for hours in a bar (I didn't even enjoy that when I was drinking) I like to dive into an affirming conversation that leaves me thinking more about less; with people that I have a connection with; and I like to see Facebook and know what you're up to so I can celebrate your achievements or pray for your dog; and listen to you new songs on my own time.  
-I DO things, I don't sit around or do the groupie thing I got too much raw talent for that but I do love a talented troubadour; always have.
-I've got more money. A lot more! I'm doing quite well thanks I'm good. I can take care of myself and for a long time, in sobriety and before, I was crippled with fear about it cause you know, I'm an artist and we don't get paid that good.

Maybe it's the law of attraction! I believe thoughts can help guide you out of a depression or bad state or money problems but I think it's bullshit to say you brought trouble upon yourself cause you weren't thinking about the situation positively. 

Bad shit happens to good people folks.
And like mommy said, though I hate it, life isn't fair. IM the drunk IM the one who took it to far, I'm the one that turned myself into a pickle; and as they say, once a pickle always a pickle.

I picked the guy, I ignored the lies, I didn't want to let the sex go and the good parts that I'm not entirely sure outweighed the bad; but imma pick the pieces up again; a bit everyday and move my ass on down the line just watch me! 

Its not going to be made easier with pot (I done smoked enough for all of us) Telling lies doesn't go down easier with a drink either. 

I'm gonna take my damage and I say move on down the line towards some more self-respecting place hopefully clearing some of the wreckage that is life; lightening my load in the process! 

Thursday, August 11, 2016

I cry to strangers that enter the garden

Hello New York! I really haven't missed you and I find myself wishing for a vast natural landscape; but then how would I feel differently anyway? I've earned this opportunity; a mantra my dear and oldest friend gave me.

I pray that the city doesn't feed me it's dark energy as it has in the past, and I look desperately for the goodness in the smelly summer August in the big apple.

I find some. I find a lot! I find it in the people. The amazing New Yorkers - man they don't disappoint.  In a fragile state, after my garden meeting with the curator I immediately go to a gay & Lesbian AA meeting at the Betty Ford Clinic; Hazelton; which is located near the garden I'm installing my glass work in. I mean isn't this THE HAZELTON!? How many addicts have passed through these doors on the verge of death; to recover and enjoy life again. 

It is a very small meeting but I cried about my womanhood, my lying cheating boyfriend that I've recently dumped ::: (I was the last to know Paul said) and I talk about why I stayed - though much felt wrong, so much felt right too. I mean I'm guessing a good 6 months of cheats; and betrayal feels raw, mean and selfish. 

I look back now and see some signs;  but you know I'm a busy girl. I stay up late writing proposals, art grants and play many shows. I am ambitious and I have goals. My recent partner is a playboy; which is what I loved about him. I usually date really serious arty types; intellectuals; and geniuses. But Jeffrey was Good times; and he enjoyed nature more than the others; it got me out of my head. A balance is nice, though.

The city feeds me a few Angels::the tiny tiny girl lesbian in the AA meeting that is mixed race- a dike; she hugs me like her sister and I lean down so akwardly low to squeeze her as she explains how this too has happened to her and she got through it. And how the shame I feel is not my own and I need to let it go.

Today's dog trainer! Passing by the garden, I see him with several dogs /// I LOVE DOGS And already desperately miss mine. I ask him about his job and his background-- he is also mixed race maybe Mexican and Asian, and young, and he has met Cesar Milan. He is a natural at training but wants to be a vet.
He gives me some tips and I realize my dog Goose  has anxiety and I didn't realize it. He follows me incessantly around the house. This is anxiety the trainer says. I will work on it. That was today,,,,

But then there was last night. I haven't been sleeping or eating; stomach in knots but I already wasn't sleeping good for 2 weeks since the ex was away with his other girlfriend but I thought he was with so and so; and I hope my mom isn't reading this.

I dreamed my ex husband who I still adore but whom is not talking to me; I dreamed he had a new hot young girlfriend - he is 10yrs my senior) and that they had a kid together; and that he adopted her other 3 children. I watched them eat at a park table somewhere in my universe and I cried because I desperately want him to have what he wants.

So at the garden; today I'm wondering if this is going to ruin my hard earned experience here; 2 years in the making; and the only reason my heartbreak isn't killing it is I give myself license to cry to strangers in the garden. 

2 girls come through location scouting for a video; we get to talking they are both at NYU and born and raised New Yorkers...they talk about burning man and one tells me I would love her parents. Dad's a musician and moms an artist. Though her parents are much older than me (57) apparently they are more to my liking than the young girls to hang out with and I probably agree. 

I tell them about my lying cheating boyfriend and they tell me that's what the video is about; I didn't full on cry but it was in my eyes.

I didn't cry and yell until a shitty "human sexuality" major came through and asked me some gross questions about spooging; if I was single and what I thought over and over was disgusting or not. I starting crying and said leave me alone and the shitbag tried to give me a hug; and said he was sorry but still wouldn't stop asking questions about my human sexuality until I started yelling get the fuck out of here. I have the keys to the park; but still don't lock myself in. 

As we speak I'm at the whole foods in NoHo; the one near where another xboyfriend lives:  and he dumped me too (I hang on maybe too long; it's an attachment disorder from childhood); he also lied to me about another woman in his life; way back 2 yrs ago when I was considering moving here. Two trips ago I was in his hood obsessing of where he is and would I run into him? It was sickening how hurt and  mixed up I was at the time but I could care less if he walks through the door now; I'll see him Sunday were playing Sax together at my opening. 

I got over it. 

Reading Viv Albertines Book at the WFoods::: Clothes Clothes Clothes Music Music Music Boys Boys Boys.