perhaps i was wrong? i don't know that i have the energy to do this. what i need is a good old fashioned cocaine habit. the thing about living life fully is that you can't find adequate time to write about it fully. and then someday, when my brain is addled and my boobs and triceps hang low like vines i will not be able to remember the funny way the hair grows on his inner forearm or the way she smells so strongly of pikake flowers and that pains me.
i want to capture it all- i want to be able to hold on to every bit of this. last sunday? i danced with a wirey and barely 21 guy at a rockabilly show. he had a two-tone wedge haircut and his license photo was adorable and he simulated playing an upright bass on me in time with the actual bass player as he spun me round and round, his hand on my waist and i was TheOlderWoman, if only innocently, if only ephemerally, and i want to remember that.
the date i went on with the guy in the bicycle sweater? the day i learned to ride a bike (this was only like two months ago, fyi, because i am remedial)? winning viva? the guy who woke up before me and fed my cats?? this is my life, and i want it all neatly filed and organized in air-tight see-through bins, with well-composed photos and perhaps scent cards and without a doubt pithy commentary.
this weekend i'm going to the miss exotic world burlesque hall of fame weekender again and i hope to have stories to tell you, because a few years from now (and i know this already from my dusty archives) i will read them and relive the most impressive moments of my life- be they big moments or little moments or mostly insignificant moments that have shaped me.