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I've reached my physical tolerance for exhaustion. Probably not a good sign with another six festival days ahead. I'll admit a wee bit of discouragement has crept into these affairs as well. I try to set a fairly high standard for myself and my work. Maybe it's not realistic. But, as my beloved Kit Kelley so aptly quoted, I don't want realism--I want magic. I spent my whole life putting everybody and everything else first. 38 years of coming last in my own story. I'm not going to do it anymore. I didn't come out here to turn my life story into a maudlin TV movie for Lifetime. Go fuck yourself, Meridith Baxter Birney.

I was pretty sick all day. I did make an important phone call, but I had that heart thing and was pretty wiped out. My friend Jill is in town from Berkeley for the reading and we went to dinner at Real Food Daily, a vegan restaurant in West Hollywood. It was tasty, but naturally I found out midway through the meal it contained buckets full of mushrooms, to which I am highly allergic (as longtime readers scoring at home are no doubt aware.) So that didn't help anything at all. Still, I had a nice time with Jill and her friend, and we talked a lot about my Big Hollywood Experience. And I played and sang some music, which is a rarity. Fucking stage fright. But I'm pretty weary of that whole hiding my light under a bushel thing. I think the bushel's pretty sick of it too. I've been so embarrassed about being transgendered, about even existing, that I didn't want to act anymore or sing publicly anymore because I was afraid of what people would say, or afraid I wasn't good enough. I'm done with that.

I'm exercising my perogative and skipping the HBO panel in the morning on the grounds that I'm deathly ill from the aforementioned mushrooms and the mitral valve crap. Plus, Wednesday being the most important day of my life (until the next one), I need to rest up. My mom and sister will arrive mid-afternoon. I'll be at the DGA around 6 if not earlier, should you care to loiter in my presence. There is parking in the DGA garage for $5. Also, and this is important news if you're coming to the reading: There will be a reception in the lobby afterwards with the writers, cast, directors, and the usual film festival perks. So we will get a chance to mingle. Sadly, unless they are planning a whopping surprise, some of the acclaimed [livejournal.com profile] mcbrennan repertory company will not be able to attend, so you won't get to meet the real-life Ricky, for example, or the Principal with the wandering hands, or Jamie Farr or the Reverend Jimmy Swaggart. My apologies. Hopefully my bloated pixie visage will be sufficient.

I'm going to try and sleep. Ugh, what a time for the fucking mushrooms. Hopefully I'll be well enough to attend my own...reading. Yes. See you there!

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badatapologies

August 2009

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