I'm sure most working writers wouldn't mind being J.K. Rowling at the moment, however, or at least wouldn't turn down the kind of money she's making. Thanks to Collette, Rowling's latest is my current gym reading material. Hey, the bigger and shinier the carrot, the better.

Earlier in the evening, there was a Batman readthrough at The Dark Room. They're going to be rehearsing every Monday night, during my radio show, until the play opens. That's going to suck. Not the play itself; having read the first draft of the script and heard some of the readthrough last night, the play is going to be fantastic. Being present, even if I'm in the studio with my headphones on, through the gestation period. And it's not like I couldn't have been involved. I was offered the Assistant Director position, after all. But I declined for both egotistical and what I like to tell myself are practical reasons. So, I'm not involved because it couldn't be on my terms, because I wanted the role which isn't right for me, and that's nobody's fault by my own.

Meliza's in the play, as Aunt Harriet. She's also in my old writing group, the majority of whom attended the Queer Open Mic on Friday to read their pieces from the most recent assignment. I'm glad I was co-hosting that night, because it puts me into performance mode, a slightly different state of mind which helped me to deal with the emotional weirdness of seeing this group which I used to be a part of. I was asked to "consider withdrawing" for someone else's comfort level (it only felt like being ousted), and I agreed, lest the drama reach a fever pitch. Again, my decision, and nobody's fault but my own. I'm only as marginalized as I'll allow myself to be.

11:13pm

I went to the Waddell Clinic this afternoon for my twice-yearly poke 'n prod. I continue to be absurdly healthy, so much so that my endoc is going to be upping my premarin dosage. (Did you know that premarin's name comes from its source, the urine of pregnant mares? I do.) There's no really strong argument for doing so, but there isn't a good reason not to, either. Why not increase the throttle some? What do I have to lose?

The necessity (or at least strong logic and convenience) of a cell phone hit me on the way to the convention on Saturday. I'd already broken one of my own rules by not printing out a map and directions to the hotel. Instead, I simply jotted down the directions. Being a profoundly flawed human being, I wrote down Highway 92 East instead of West, and found myself crossing the San Mateo Bridge. A cell phone would have come in extremely handy so I could let Marilyn her know I'd done something really stupid and would be late. I still managed to get there on time, but only because I happened to have an area map in the car. It could have been much worse, or at least much more annoying. It's not like I would have gotten horribly lost or anything, but I would have hated to miss the gig entirely.

The other came to me at Sephora yesterday with Cindy, trying on makeup. I'd shaved the previous morning before the convention, but there they were in the deep dark truthful 7x magnification mirror: thick black hairs on my upper lip. They're growing in faster and thicker all the time. I'd also shaved my upper chest the day before, or I thought I had, but there was visible fur there, too. Yes, it was a hardcore mirror and I'm sure Cindy was right when she assured me that nobody else noticed, but still. Ow.

At the height of my self-consciousness, we passed by the makeover station. We were asked if we wanted to take a spin. Since the last thing I wanted was anyone to get that close a look at my face, as the aesthetician surely would, I said yes. What choice did I have?

5:31pm

I asked Maddy if she wanted to have dinner tonight before my radio show at Ananda Fuara, one of our favorite restaurants. She's getting her latest tattoo touched up, so she had to decline. (As it turns out, Ananda is closed today and for the rest of the month anyhow.) We haven't seen each other for a few weeks, probably not since Lynnee's show, which is surely the longest time we've spent truly apart ever since she moved out here. We also haven't been chatting much on IM, which was entirely my decision. Getting that kind of distance feels necessary to me, though it's been through sheer willpower that I haven't re-established contact with her that way. Because it hurts. I'm missing her, a lot. Now more than ever I'm feeling her absence, and I know it's a required step. Gotta feel the pain before you can heal.

The gym is going to start closing at ten rather than eight on weeknights. I hadn't actually gone at night yet, but feh.

4:11pm

Referring to this past year being dark, it struck me last night when hanging out with Mars of just how much has changed in the twelve months since I met her. My hours at work were greatly reduced a few days after I Lynnee and I got back from that tour, and I lost the job entirely a week later. From there things just went downhill, culminating in what was probably my worst Xmas Eve ever, and this is from someone who loathes December in the first place. Far from me at my glammiest, the look in my eyes in this picture from Xmas Day really says it all. (Though the story itself is yet to be told.) Earlier that month I'd trained at a job for a week before my trainer decided she wanted to keep the position. I think I was still shell-shocked from that, on top of the intense drama which had been occurring between Maddy and I, which had come to an unforeseen boil while waiting for the St. Charles Streetcar on an unseasonably cold New Orleans Xmas Eve. Of course, I would break up with her (we would not break up, I would break up with her, as she made me promise to always say) a few months later, this after two more failed attempts at employment. Then I got this job, which itself is evidence that there has been good, and there have been some people who've really helped keep me going. (You know who you are.) But it's been rough all the same.