Before you chastise me for my ten day silence, I must stress to you that I had no idea how much time had passed. Why is summer--and I know this is its first official day--always so speedy, even during its hottest, draggiest days?
I've been procrastinating on hulaseventy's handmade postcard swap, which I agreed to do eons ago. Not surprisingly, even with all the lead time, I have spent only today and yesterday coated with glue. The postcards were supposed to go out today, the first official day of summer, the longest day of the year. But tomorrow's going to be a pretty long day too, and equally good for sending mail.
My workroom looks appalling. Teeny paper squares everywhere.
I started a hip-hop (AKA "jazz/funk") dance class last night. I have a small amount of game in this department, but it became clear to me last night that I need to forge some new neural pathways in order to coordinate some of these movements. It was pretty hilariously fun, and not just because my sister Mol is teaching it and my other sister is taking it with me and even my friend LA showed up, despite an inner ear infection that is giving her not-fucking-around vertigo. I recommend taking a class where the teacher will tell you in perfect seriousness to "freak right, then freak left." You will also likely have to percolate.
I listed some vulgar gauze pantsuits on ebay and someone promptly bid on both of them. Also in ebay news this week: a buyer in Spain tried to file a paypal claim against me, even though I had already refunded her money and she had already accepted the payment. Frivolous bitch. Spanish ebayers are dead to me.
Man, will someone PLEASE take the coco-roos away from me? They actually gave me a headache TWICE recently, yet I continue to eat them.
Did you know that modeling is hard? It is. I had to do a publicity shoot this evening for an opera, which involved putting on a costume and standing on a train and looking alternately wistful, disgruntled, empowered, etc. My hair, newly cut into a pseudo-mod, pseudo Victoria Beckham cap, was all wrong for the era. We slapped a big hat on it and wrapped me in tulle and turned on the wind machine and then the photographer attempted to get me to emote. I will point you to the shots if any of them turn out. In the meantime I will point you to the Minnesota Transportation Museum, an arm of which--the Jackson Street Roundhouse--functioned as our location for the shoot. I had no idea this place existed, and it is rad. Train geek heaven.
Apropos of nothing except my own ongoing quest: have you ever read this article about time management? Dude sounds crazy, but he makes lots of good points that seem to be extra germane at this point in my life. For example: "Most people wallow way too long in the state of 'I don't know what to do.' They wait for some external force to provide them with clarity, never realizing that clarity is self-created. The universe is waiting on you, not the other way around, and it's going to keep waiting until you finally make up your mind." And also: "having a clear goal is far more important than having a clear plan."
I think I need to go write some things down.