Archives for category: thoughts

…and the only part of it that is particularly queer is already over!

Holy cow. This month is cruising at high altitude. My lady and I are moving into our own place again, for the first time since we left New York for grad school five years ago. It will be OH SO lovely to not have housemates (not that our housemates are bad, but… you know. Partner time.) We found a little back house right in our neighborhood that can only be described as ‘adorable’. So we immediately went in and painted it clown colors. Because we do not do adorable well. 🙂 Today I will finish that project – my office will be half turquoise and half orange, to offset the lime green living room walls you can see through the office door. No joke. We’re out of our minds.

I taught a one of my web design workshops to the group of acting interns at Claire’s theater (she’s the director of education here) and was reminded how much I love teaching. I hope that it can be a part of my life on a more regular basis some day.

OH! Right. The gayest part. I had my first premiere! ‘Trainers’, the web series I worked on last summer, premiered May 9th at the Fox lot. Although it was a harrowing time getting there (we missed the first screening, boo, so I’m not in any of the ‘all cast’ photos from the red carpet) it was actually not awful to see myself on a movie screen. I still have mixed feelings about the writing of my character, (if any Trainers folks read this, this is NOT a dig, just an invitation to a conversation) but I think I did a decent job given what I had to work with, and if the series gets picked up for real I have a much more interesting storyline down the road. You can watch the whole thing here and on Comediva.




Next weekend we’re flying to Austin for my cousin’s wedding (yay! I’ve never been to Austin! musicandfoodandyumsandweddingfoodandhotels…) It may be the first time I see my parents since the Great Thanksgiving Fight of 2012, but last I heard they were still on the fence about going. Something about needing to save their money to avoid the imminent fascist government takeover blah blah blah…

Alright. Back to packing. In the least metaphorical sense. Next time pics of the claun haus. AND THE NEW PUPPY. Yup. It’s happening.

I just realized that when I was in nyc last week I ONLY saw queer friends. The. entire. time.

I suppose the exception could be the friend that I stayed with, who is now dating a man, however since she is my ex-fiancee I think she still counts. She amassed quite a few toasters after we broke up too.

But seriously – I may have even made up for the lack of queer buddies out here in LA for a considerable time. I saw seven queer friends and a play with Alan Cumming (king of the pretty queers, imho), drank too much at a lady bar, and I auditioned to puppet a giant fake animal.

Possibly the gayest trip ever, at least for a trip that didn’t involve anything tropical or a white party.


I’m back from a rather whirlwind trip to NYC. It’s the longest I’ve visited there since I moved away back in 2008, and as I poke my head up from under the covers of  the “no I’m not here don’t look at me” feelings I’ve been living the past few months, it feels good to have traveled and returned.

A few highlights from my trip include:

1. The main reason I went – to audition for the national tour of War Horse. The original play, not the movie. I went with the intention of showing them that I could be a 5’11” puppeteer and female-bodied and strong enough to manage the 120lb horse puppets unscathed. I was the only female-bodied puppeteer to show on the day I auditioned.

If you have only seen the movie, check this out, and imagine me as either the head or the hind of the beast:

2. One of my dearest friends from the Prestigious Women’s College recently ended her ten year relationship, and to show solidarity I went with her on her weekly sojourn to the latest gay lady bar in the city: The Dalloway.  And let me tell you something, folks – NYC needed a place like this. Good – no, great food, if a bit small on the plate and pricey, really good drinks – if only they had craft beers on tap. But the general attractiveness of the clientele made up for any shortcomings behind the bar. The cute bartender didn’t hurt either. Thank you, New York, for having a classy place to go to be with other queers.

3. And along the lines of cute bartenders, the bartender who complimented my new rockabilly haircut while I waited for friends my last night in Bushwick was also delightful. We lady-loving-ladies/etc should speak up more like this – it’s so nice to be seen and recognized and even flirted with a bit. I smiled all the way back to LA.






My office job ended last week, and with it the last of the feminine pretensions I had to keep up to play the game. It’s not that the office would have fired me if I didn’t wear a little makeup or women’s boots instead of my usual – it’s just that I made the decision to keep my boss very, very happy, and she’s a “looks matter” kind of woman.  Although she never said anything about my dress (a rotation of three very masculine yet still women’s suits with men’s collared shirts), I knew from the way she spoke about, oh, everyone else in the office that I’m sure she made many a comment about my appearance. However, I toed the line and all was well.

Now that I’m working from home I am back to my usual appearance – and with this small switch has come the return of me getting sir’d at every store and restaurant in town. Which is, quite frankly, awesome. I hadn’t realized how much I missed threading myself between the walls of gender perception.

Along those lines: I have a confession to make. When left to my own devices, I am not “dapper”. I know there’s a huge community of butches and androgynous and other-identified folk who happily sign on to the dapper banner, but really, I’m not one of them. I make the effort for my acting appearance, sure – but I’m most comfortable in a uniform of sorts, so I’ve collected my vests and ties and shirts and basically just swap color schemes on the same outfit anytime I need to go public.

But at home – comfy sweaters, old t-shirt, jeans. I wear grandpa slippers all day long inside.

I started noticing my non-dapperness recently while at rehearsals for the musical I’m directing. My cast includes one queer girl and one woman who has mostly lesbian friends (read: most of the people who worked on the L Word. Hello, Los Angeles). And the queer girl has a definite style, look, vintage dapper-ness all her own, even though she’s neither butch nor femme. The woman talks about her lesbian friends in a way that lets me know that they’re all impeccably coiffed all the time.

Meanwhile, I’m sitting on the dirty floor in my dirty chucks and cozy sweater, with my faux hawk not quite hawking, looking a mess as usual. Many people would Dress with a capital D just because they do every day – I can’t seem to muster the energy, or else I just have too many other things to think about. It’s like I’m the single mom of my own life.

Anyway – all the more reason why it’s nice to be sir’d again. Even in just a sweater, with my hair kind of in a weird/bad state these days (does anyone else have curls that suddenly decide to curl the other direction?), I can still go through an entire conversation at Target without the checker calling me miss. Dig it.

Hey there friends – I’ve been laying kinda low on the technology front for the past few weeks because that buzzing thrum that has been following me since October exploded as the Gregorian calendar year came to a close. Strangely enough, the turnover of the Mayan calendar year on December 21st made a much smaller blip on my radar than expected, since the world didn’t end and all (Tangent: I’ve actually followed the Mayan calendar for the past 12 years, and it’s one of the methods I use to interpret my purpose in this world. Also, astrologically speaking, it’s badass – in the Zodiac system, I’m a double Capricorn (goatish, indeed) but in the Mayan I’m a Blue Magnetic Storm. BOOM…. but I digress…).

I can barely keep up with the changes I’ve been dealing with, starting with my new agent that I signed with back in October, and then passing through the fact that now every waking moment of my life is consumed by the (gay!) musical I’m directing (that I wish were over already), and finally crashing to a not-even-close-to-stopping-point at the fact that I quit my survival office job in a moment of craziness and as of next week I’ll be out on my lonesome, trying to make money on my own again.

I don’t feel better yet, but I think I will soon. I have to.

My current mantra, said over and over all day, is “I can do this.”

I’m trying not to worry about believing it, and just focusing on saying it. Repeatedly. Until it comes true. I can do this. I can do this. All of it.


This came through to me today in one of the blogs I peruse while pretending to work at my day job, and in light of my recent family troubles, struck home.

From a UK Guardian article on Regrets of the Dying from earlier this year:

#1 regret:

“I wish I’d had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life others expected of me.”


Now go out there and buy yourself a bow tie.