Hi there folks –

I went away this past week to teach a bit a the physical theater school I went to about four years ago. It’s the only place I’ve ever felt like I had friends, so I’ve worked hard to maintain a connection there, no matter how strenuous it is to keep up with such a fickle long-distance relationship.  The school is a twelve hour drive north of LA in the thick of the redwood forest on the Northern California coast. It is narcissistic, insulated, secular, flagrantly liberal, and producing some of the most exhilirating, and – on off nights, the most puke-worthy – live physical performance in the world. It is also a place which routinely embraces pretty girls stripping down and jumping naked into the river at midnight, which is not to be underestimated on my list of reasons to visit. 🙂

Now I’m back in la-la-land, and trying to cope with a rush of feelings that hitched a twelve hour ride in my car on the way home.

I’ve lived here a little over two years, and I keep wondering where the community is. Sure, I have friends here – friends I’ve made from shows I’ve done, friends who moved here because I did – but really what I need these days are some queer friends. Some butch friends.

Not that I’ve ever had more than two butch friends, neither of whom have lived near me for over six years, but still. A person can wish.

I just want to go out and drink beer after beer. And talk about girls. And sex. And ties. Fuck, I even want to go talk about gender theory and the straight hegemony, or some crap like that. Something that cute girls talk about in San Francisco, or Portland, or Chicago, or Northampton. Places where there are communities of girls like me. Girls who are not necessarily entirely girls.

I’ve been having all kinds of weird emotions lately, and not the least because aunt flo is here for the first time in a while (I don’t bleed so much these days). I would love to talk to someone who knows the frustration of bleeding on your boxer briefs because you stayed at the bar too long trying to chat up that one pretty straight girl who thought you were really funny.  Because those are the kind of things I do when I’m up in the Woods, and coming back to my real life is always a bit of a letdown.

Also, I’m working this week on the genderqueer/trans monologue play, and honestly – I wish I weren’t. I feel totally exhausted, and like I want to crawl into a hole and feel and feel until I can feel myself into a better place.

At least I have a good haircut right now. Grasping at the silver lining.