Well, Heather certainly did a much more complete job of chronicling our day yesterday than I would have, so you should take a look at that. My short version is that the tea garden was beautiful but cold, the Asian Art museum has changed the exhibit style that was my favorite part of the museum, so I was bummed, and the reading last night was terrifying but rocked.

It really was scary; it was such a 'hip' audience/club. I'm used to reading in small coffeehouse-type spaces, and bookstores. At least calm, if not positively staid. Places where they may give you a mike, but you don't really need one. This room was dark and huge and echoing, and there was a bar right there, and we were on a very raised stage with a huge tv screen behind us displaying us (somewhat fuzzy) for the crowd. Heather seemed in her element, but I was thoroughly intimidated. I kept thinking, 'gosh, this place is full of 'cool people''.

I was such a *not* cool person back in college. Places like that make me forget that some people consider me cool these days. They reduce me to this trembling high school student who really is just wishing that the cool people wouldn't sneer as they walked by. Thank the gods that Karina was there to cling to and have be reassuring (and if you're a chick snuggling with a chick at a club, that gives you some cool points right there, so that helps too). And thank the gods that somehow my terror comes across as arousal on stage. Karina said afterwards that I looked like I was going to cry or come as I was reading -- and both were appropriate for that piece, so it worked. Remind me not to write anything where I have to be the calm, collected one, 'cause it'll just flop like a dead fish.

I think the best part for me was writing this piece that I *knew* was going to be good when I came up with it on BART, and that I *knew* was going to be good when I was writing it, and that didn't look so good when I saw it on the page, and then sounded pretty good once I coaxed Heather into doing the second voice, and that then went over really well, so well that other erotica writers were coming up to me and telling me we'd been really good -- *that* was satisfying. That meant I can actually trust my instincts some of the time. And it probably means I should keep experimenting with this sort of writing. I'd really like to do something for three voices, but I'm not sure who should do the third voice. I have this image in my head, of a kinda dark, skinny guy, with an acid-etched voice, and a great pulsing rhythm...now I just have to find him.

Today is cooking, cleaning and partying! :-) Will (journal-reader) asked for pictures from the party; the problem is that I don't have a scanner easily available. Kinko's charges you $10/picture, plus computer time. Oof. And the ones at Mills I could never get to work, though maybe I'm just incompetent. What's really frustrating is that Cliff *has* a scanner packed in a box somewhere, but his computer is broken, so he's not in any rush to hook it up. One of these days I'll persuade him to hook it up to mine...

Of course, if one of you has a scanner, I suppose I could send you the photos, and have you scan them in and send them back to me. I could get the Yosemite ones up too. And y'know, it would be nice to put up photos of some of the people I mention often here, if I can talk them into it. Hmm. It's a thought.

Ellie's up and cleaning, and I'm feeling guilty, so I'd best get off my butt and go help her. It's 9:16. Party minus 7.45 hours. :-)

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