This weekend was a study in extremes for me. Opposites, anyway. I've yet to go to the extreme in either direction.

My Zippy pal Mikl-Em opined that if Bush is re-elected, we will not have a nation worth living in five or ten years from now. He's probably right, though my theory is even grimmer: if Bush is re-elected, by the end of the decade this country will experience its first truly bloody revolution in over two hundred years. Or, if you prefer, its first civil war in nearly a hundred and fifty.

That's why it bugged me four years ago, and bugs me even more now, when people make empty threats to move out of the country if Bush wins. (There was a lot of it on a smaller scale last year during Newsom's campaign, too.) No. No. NO. Another term of Bush and Cheney will be when this country needs people like us the most.

9:35am

Wow. Five years ago today was also a Saturday. Makes you think, huh? Okay, maybe not.

Mostly it made me miss acting in Night of the Living Dead. So weird to think that was a year ago. Really, it made me miss acting altogether, the kind where you emote and interact with other people, of which I was able to precious little in Zippy. Sid tells me that the producers of Night (not Jim and Erin) just finished casting a new play, possibly to be staged at The Exit. Seems they hand-picked about half of the cast from Night without even auditioning them. Huh. Cool.

Meanwhile, on Saturday auditions begin for The Dark Room's next play, The Princess Bride. I'm really torn about it. Buttercup isn't exactly Sally Bowles, but it's a pretty good character all the same, certainly with more to do than Barbara in Night. (No wonder the Night producers didn't ask me—their new play probably doesn't have any roles requiring lots of cowering.) My hair's approaching the right color, too, and the remaining black can easily be covered with a blonde fall, which would be appropriate for the character anyway. They're being a stickler about the rehearsal schedule, though, and I'm already otherwise engaged for the first two. Not a good start.

This is me staring my fear of failure right in the face, and blinking like mad. If they thought I was appropriate, they would have said something to me about it by now. Doesn't mean I can't wow 'em at the audition, but...hell, for a while, it looked like I had a lock on Mrs. White in Clue. Then, I was not only mediocre in the audition, but the actress they did cast played the part about a zillion times better than I possibly could have. (No, I am not selling myself short. I saw the play about half a dozen times, and I know what I'm capable of.) So it's hard not to be extremely fatalistic about my chances. Throw into the mix my employment status and consequent need to keep my schedule relatively open, and, well, it just sounds like a really bad idea, doesn't it?

Collette and I hung out during the day yesterday. It was nice. Mina eventually came out to say hello.

2:10pm

My contributor's copy of I Do / I Don't arrived. It's probably It's an anthology with over a hundred contributors, but still, I think this officially makes me a published writer. (If one is classist about and it considers books to be "real" publishing, anyway.) My name is even spelled correctly. Cool.

please, let me stay down here forever...

The unanswered spaces in the quiz felt enormous. Lookit me, blowing another job opportunity through sheer inadequacy! Giving three-quarters complete sheets back to the owner, I said, once a c-plus student, always a c-plus student. She laughed and said Well, You Have Sense Of Humor. That's A Point In Your Favor. I didn't say it, but I thought to myself hell, if i'd know that, i could have filled both sides of all three pages. She said that I should hear back from her in the next few weeks, but to feel free to stick my head in every so often to see what's happening. Okay.

It would probably be part-time, from noon to eight p.m. with no internet access. On other hand, it's an indie bookstore, and unless I'm severely underpaid (again) I'll still make more than unemployment. And if I am severely underpaid, well, unemployment ain't gonna last forever. Especially not considering how much My Former Boss underpaid me. And, as I said before, it's an indie bookstore. My crunchier side has always wanted to work at one, even if it doesn't have a cat. I can just imagine if I do get hired: i know i'm only here twenty hours a week, but, um, could we get a kitty? please?

As part of this year's Litquake (next year I'll be in it, next year, next year), the Balboa Theater showed David Lynch's Wild at Heart, prececeded by a Q&A with Barry Gifford, upon whose novel the movie is based. The Q&A was kinda boring, but it was wonderful seeing the movie projected again. Like Twin Peaks Fire Walk With Me, it affects me in a different, more powerful way than before I transitioned.

Sunday was the second to last Girl Army class. I somehow managed to get through it without further damaging my foot, which either means I'm learning how to move properly, or I didn't work hard enough. It was another intense day all the same, mostly review, preparing for the final class in which we'll take on male attackers. It's an utterly terrifiying thought, especially since we can request what kind of verbal confrontation we want. I'm going for broke: tranny-bashing. I have reason to believe it will happen someday. The more prepared I am, psychologically and physically, the better.

After class, I returned home to discover Maddy had joined a massive cleaning project at a friend's. So, I headed over. I knew that both Taos and Collette would be there, among others, but I had neither the energy nor the inclination to make myself more presentable than I'd been for class. What the hell. Taos had seen me sans makeup the day before when she whitened my hair, and I strongly suspected Collette wouldn't care one way or the other. We connected on Friday night, and again on Saturday. It started with mutual neck-nibbling, and went from there. (It says something about our circle of friends that biting is so common.) (That being, Maddy and I have the right kinds of friends.) Collette and I are taking it slow, as is Maddy in her explorations, but it's being taken.