My Face for the World to See (Part II): The Diary of Sherilyn Connelly a fiction November 21 - 30, 2004

Tuesday, 30 November 2004 (a light out of the dim) 8:11am what did you do, who did you do it with, and when did you do it? 1:10pm There doesn't seem much point to fiction if you can't use it to improve upon reality, at least a little. This is what happened when you went through that other door... Last | Top | Next

At the dark end of the street That's where we'll always meet Hiding in shadows Where we don't belong Living in darkness To hide our wrong You and me At the dark end of the street You and me I know that time's gonna take its toll We'll have to pay for the love that we stole Cause it's a sin and we know that we're wrong Oh, but our love keeps coming on strong You and me At the dark end of the street You and me They're gonna find us They're gonna find us They're gonna find us someday We'll steal away To the dark end of the street You and me If you take a walk downtown And find some time to look around If you should see me, and I walk on by Oh, darling, please don't cry Tonight we'll meet At the dark end of the street You and me You and me You and me... Dan Penn and Spooner Oldham, "The Dark End of the Street" Monday, 29 November 2004 (weeks, months, years) 9:40am Are my demands, my requirements, so high? I don't think so. My tastes for creature comforts and amenities and things are fairly modest. Sometimes I wonder if I'm crippled by my willingness to settle for less. My previous Boss certainly took advantage of that, and it's why I've declined the job at the company with which I interviewed on Wednesday morning. The pay and hours would have been far too low for the amount of stress. No. Not going there again. That would be like letting Him win. Do I struggle within my restraints because I don't have the courage to remove them? Maybe. All I know is I have to make myself irresistible in the interview this morning. If that ends up falling through, I keep looking, while hoping the digital video company makes their decision sooner rather than later. 1:35pm She didn't hire me on the spot, but I knew that she wouldn't, either. While it wouldn't have the neat ambiance and atmosphere of the digital video company, there's a lot to be said for me getting this job. In fact, I'll say it: I want it. A lot. The pay and hours and location and workload (or, at least, attitude towards workload) are simply perfect. More than I could hope for, really. She said I have all the skills she's looking for, and liked my personality. Hopefully my relative unfamiliarity with typewriters won't count too much against me. She'll be interviewing all this week, and I'll hear back early next week. It's axiomatic that one should never interview or audition too early, lest you be forgotten by the end of the process. Sometimes axioms don't always prove true. I hate this part. I hate the waiting, feeling something really nice in my hands, in my paws, imagining it in my paws as I jump and strain and beg and whimper outside the door, only to feel the harsh yank of the leash bringing me back down to reality in a cloud of dust and expectations. 9:34pm The Princess Bride opens this Friday at The Dark Room. I won't be there, since the Pirate Cat Radio Listener Appreciation Party thing is that very same night. Quite frankly, it's hard to say at which place I'd feel more comfortable. If election night taught me anything, it's that most of my fellow DJs are a little too much of the straight white male persuasion for my taste. Nice enough people, but not really my crowd. Not that I'm feeling much more comfortable around The Dark Room. When I've been there lately I've tried my best to keep my head down and go as unnoticed as possible. Don't mind me, just passing through, carry on citizen. I don't feel like I belong there anymore. A year ago, Spanganga seemed like a second home, and The Dark Room picked up where it left off, for me and a lot of other people. Well, that was a year ago, wasn't it? Lots of things can change in a year. And after a few years, or five, none of us are the same. If you haven't changed, you might as well be dead. Maybe I am and don't know it. It would explain a lot. this is a test, simply a test... 11:38pm One of the nice things about a radio show that nobody listens to is it provides a platform, a unique medium in which to do and say things which are otherwise not allowed. There's a lot to be said for being ignored in public. No one heard it, so I didn't say it. Last | Top | Next

Sunday, 28 November 2004 (lockdown) 8:11am The Sunday of a four-day weekend doesn't really feel any less depressing when you're unemployed. Perversely, I actually have something to look forward to on Monday, the interview for the job in this part of town. I'm feeling pretty good about it. I'm not coveting it quite as much as the position at the digital video company, but it has a lot going for it all the same, and I think I have a good shot at it. Keeping a happy thought, anyway. Something else heartening is the fact that I actually have a few ideas creatively, some irons in the fire. More often than not I have no idea what I'm going to write next and am therefore quite convinced that my well has run dry. I'm envious of people who are bubbling over with ideas, overbrimming with stories to tell. I never have been. More often than not, the only stories I have to tell are my own, and even when I get permission to tell them (please refer to the Sheryl Crow lyric at the top of this page), it seems like I'm doing less and less these days. It's difficult to have inspiring experiences when you aren't leaving the house much, metaphorically or otherwise. Last | Top | Next

Saturday, 27 November 2004 (mending the restless) 3:01pm Home, again. Last | Top | Next

Friday, 26 November 2004 (further to the center) sometime after midnight The big fancy electronic billboard at what used to be on the other busiest corners in town, but is now looking rather rundown and seedy, Blackstone and Shaw. (The center of town has now shifted a couple miles north, to an area which was considered the sticks when I was growing up.) Um, whoops. Somebody who doesn't make a lot of money to begin with is going to lose their job over this. I guess I shouldn't be surprised, but it's weird to think these things are web-based. I wonder if it's pulling from a local hard drive, or if it's really from off the net, some central location. If I was more of the l33t hax0r than I am, I'd be trying to find out. It's getting increasingly difficult to find a good air hockey table in Fresno. Last | Top | Next

Thursday, 25 November 2004 (stairwell acousticism) 9:31pm The only reaction from my family to my hair was a doubletake from Jim. Can't say I'm surprised. Overall, Thanksgiving went well. No major drama or tension or anything. Since I'm neither into the turkey nor the roast beef, my mom got me sushi. It was without question the best Thanksgiving sushi I've ever had—and, all apparent facetiousness aside, I was really touched by the gesture. Last | Top | Next

Wednesday, 24 November 2004 (repititious phenomenon) 3:20pm Something about the reading last night which I think I'd only mentioned once before: it was at City Lights. City fuckin' Lights. That's a really big deal to me. At the time, though, it was mostly just a source of annoyance, since it meant I had to find parking in North Beach. I got to the reading late as a result, though it didn't help that I got the time wrong and thought the reading started at half past seven when it in fact started at seven. This is San Francisco, however, so it didn't actually start until twenty past, and I only missed the first few minutes. Since the running order was based on the sequence of the book and not alphabetical, that was no great tragedy. I've read at City Lights. That's so cool. After the interview/meeting this morning, I went to the LGBT Center to take advantage of the WiFi connection at the Three Dollar Bill. I've been here for a few hours now, on the laptop, waiting for my second interview this afternoon at four. Yesterday, I was out and about with some time to kill to before picking up Maddy, so I went to Cafe Abir and used their WiFi. Good lord. I've officially become a person who sits for hours on end at cafes, typing away on their laptop. But I'm still alt and punkrock 'n shit, right? Maybe? A little? Does it help that I haven't been drinking any highfalutin coffee drinks? No, I didn't really think so either... 8:59pm The benefit for Heather is happening, next Wednesday at the El Rio. So I have that. Then it's all over. My second interview this afternoon went really well. I like the company a lot, and I think I'd be happy there. Me and the fellow doing the interviewing seemed to click, even if I couldn't help but be distracted by his resemblance to Peter Krause from Six Feet Under. (The cute one. The non-gay one, anyhow.) He was so much of a ringer, I found myself obsessing on the ways his face was different. I'm sure you've been there. Anyway, he says they'll probably won't make a decision for about a month. Guess I shouldn't hold my breath. I have high hopes for the interview on Monday, at the tiny public works company. The location and job description are really perfect for me. As for the first interview this morning, the one that was more of a meeting, I don't know how I feel. I pretty much have the job if I want it, but, quite frankly, I'm not sure that I want it. I would be committed for ninety days, not to mention I'd have to do a fair amount of work away from the office. While the woman who runs the company is really nice, I have this bad feeling that it would be too much like working under My Old Boss again. Based on what she told me about the position and the compensation, I simply wouldn't get paid enough to make up for the stress involved. It's not that I'm unaware of how irresponsible it would be of me to not take the job, but it feels wrong. My hackles raise just thinking about it. Besides, my luck seems to be improving overall—I've had more interviews in the last month than I have in the last few years—and at this point I just know I'm going to find something good, and soon. Turns out the City Lights reading was videotaped, and I'll be getting a copy. Tomorrow, we go to Fresno. Last | Top | Next

Tuesday, 23 November 2004 (windtwisting) 10:12am They're going to keep my resume on file for a year in case another position opens. Very considerate of them. I do, however, have a meeting tomorrow morning with a search marketing company at which I'd interviewed a few month back. They want to talk about a shorttermpartimeonprojectbasis kinda thing. Okay. Worth another shot, particularly since my unemployment has officially run out. My Unemployment Insurance, that is. There may well be a lot more unemployment in my future. 11:29pm My Blaze of Glory Week peaked this evening at the JT Leroy reading, as I knew it would. For as scary and stressful (yet ultimately rewarding) as it was to host the Somatry benefit on Sunday and then performing sans net at Porch Light on Monday, I knew tonight's reading was going to be the real highwire act. And, if I may be so bold, I kicked much ass. All the readers did (Tim Donnelly, (e), Horehound, Monique and Tara), but this is about me, right? Unlike the last two nights I had the words in front of me, but they were someone else's words. The trick was to convey them with the same respect and energy and passion I attempt to give my own words, or when I'm onstage in a play acting out someone else's story, which is what it most resembled for me. I had the audience in my hand, and it felt really damn good. Almost good enough to help keep my spririts up for the immediate future. Were it not for that, I'd be extremely depressed about the fact that I don't have any gigs coming up. Possibly a thing for Pamela in January, and there are rumors of a benefit for Heather McAllister next week. Oh, yeah, I'm DJing at Pirate Cat Radio Listener Appreciation Party next week, if you can believe that. But, otherwise, nothing. I've almost convinced myself that it doesn't mean my career is over. I got responses from two companies today. One of them is a digital video production firm in SOMA, and I'll be interviewing there tomorrow afternoon. The other is a mom 'n pop public works construction company located near San Francisco State University, my neck of the woods. The job in SOMA sounds like a good door into which to put my foot (huh?), but I also absolutely adore the idea of the construction company, since it would requite neither crossing a bridge nor going east of Twin Peaks, two things which get very old sometimes. Both jobs are glorified part time, and I'm sure neither pays very well. The one requiring the SOMA commute probably pays more, but for less hours. Nothing is ever perfect, and they've got to be better than working for previous chain-smoking, underpaying sexist cretin of a Former Boss. For that matter, the company which decided not to hire me this morning may well have been a dodged bullet. It's comforting to think so, anyway, ergo I will think it. Last | Top | Next

Monday, 22 November 2004 (left for alive) 2:29pm This time, I only waited fifteen minutes before calling. Lookit me, bein' all assertive and iniative-takin' and stuff. It seemed to go well, and he said he'd be calling back to let me know if they want me to come in for a meatspace interview. The suspense is pulling me apart. sometime after midnight Well, that was intense. The Porch Light show, I mean. Talking for seven minutes without having the words in front of me, and attempting to tell something resembling a coherent story, especially one involving rather complex tranny identity issues surrounding being a tranny (my story about the Rent Girl shoot, The Most Controversial Entry Ever) to a packed, much more hetero audience than usual. Man. Flying without a net, indeed. The reaction was very positive, and I got lots of praise and compliments and ego blowjobs. (That's one of the primary reasons anybody does this sort of thing. Don't let them tell you otherwise.) Even did a quickie interview with a writer for the SFSU paper. Neat. Adding to my already high baseline stress level was the fact that the other interviewer, the one about the job, never called back. Considering how much we've been playing phonetag, it probably doesn't mean anything, and no doubt I'll hear from them tomorrow morning. Yep. No doubt. I'm sure they wouldn't just leave me twisting in the breeze. Last | Top | Next

Sunday, 21 November 2004 (the two inevitabilities) 11:12am My mother's phone number, the number I grew up with, has been transferred to a cel phone. It's so weird. On the other hand, her youngest, brown-haired son is now her blonde daughter. Things change, don't'chaknow. Last | Top | Next