Wicked Wicked Feleena

This week has been a work riot. I don’t even want to tell you what I am looking at for today. Usually I am pretty happy about Friday. Today is just like any other day around here. I don’t want to complain. I didn’t have a job for a good long time and I was bored to death and broke because of that. Anyway, I apologize I haven’t kept up with things around here. How was your week?

Oh Babies.

I wrote a poem about El Paso and it’s been haunting me for days. There comes a point when you can’t ignore what is going on anymore. Love poems are nice, confessional pieces, even funny things to keep people upbeat.. but sometimes you have to write about what the hell is going on so that people can stop and think, or cry or dream about something better. It aint all that, my poem, but I’m glad I wrote it.

We are quite possibly going to be moving out of N OC proper. We just can’t afford it anymore. I don’t see getting paid any more than I am now any time soon. I knew it was going to happen eventually, but I kept hoping something would change. This means downsizing again, getting rid of lots of things.. my books.. my books… it’s time to let them go and this makes me sad. The other stuff isn’t important.. but there is so much of it all. There is also this nagging feeling that I should have been doing better by now and not having to do this again. I am almost 50 and here we are again, throwing out the stuff we worked hard to get, letting go of things we love and moving away from all the places we’ve grown to love the past 20 years. This is the life of an artist. The day job face becomes a mask and all other things fade away. At least we have each other. At least our kid is on her own and doing well. I shouldn’t be such a brat, yo, at least I have the chance to move and am not getting kicked out. That could happen if we don’t move again soon.

Tonight is the big party. Navigation plans in motion. Outfit picked out. Making a conscience effort to not get hammered and make a fool of oneself. Just for once I want to act like a grown ass woman and make it home in one piece. Is it even possible? I feel like there are going to be landmines everywhere. Or shit piles. Harry said he was coming and that if I felt anxious he would talk to me about writing and we would be OK together. I usually love parties. I don’t know.

I have a performance Saturday with Tejana Cosmica. It will be good to see the ladies again. I saw Tamitha at Mad Swirl and she looked radiant. I’m glad she got out of the city for a while and she still even has her tan from the island. She went to Hawaii with her family and they camped on the beaches. It looked amazing. I love that family. I see them and they inspire me to so much.

 I just keep slipping off the rocks going up the hill. I guess. But I always keep climbing.

So, I’m in a rut.  Maybe today will change that. I am forever hopeful.

Harry’s book is amazing and I think about reading it when I am sitting at work. I am going to find a picture of us we took about 4 years ago that we goofed about doing our ‘ author picture faces’ because we both knew we were going to be published one day… and now we are. 

We did it, Harry. Did you know if you change the r’s in your name to p’s then you’d be Happy? I just typed that on accident but it was a Happy Accident. A Harry Accident.

I missed an event last night.  I don’t think anyone even noticed and that is perfect.

Happy Friday. I will report from the trenches tonight if I stick with my plan and behave.

If not, you will hear the horrible account next week.

Here is that picture of me and Harry. 2015