sundries

[rm]

Up and out of bed hours before I wanted to be today because someone else screwed something up and I had to fix it. Not happy.

I think the tomato plant has a third tiny tomato, but I am not sure.

Last night a bunch of us went to a fundraiser for the Jazz Age weekend at Governor's Island in a couple of weeks. It was held at Green Building and it was a stunning, delightful space and a hell of a night even if I feel like I know the Dreamland Orchestra's set by heart now. Pictures will be forthcoming.

I danced a bit with a photographer, Don Spiro, whose work I've posted here before. That was nice because I was dressed like a man and he was so chill about asking me to dance and whether I wanted to lead or not. And he taught me stuff, because this is not my era of dance and it was just fun, and I wasn't awful (although I never understand which way to turn) and it made me feel like, yes, I can totally learn to be a better lead even though I'm small, and you know, it really won't kill me to go take some proper swing dance classes -- I've avoided this because it speaks to some deep trauma of my teens and twenties, some idea that it's too horrible to force a stranger to be so close to me, some certainty that any man there will assume I'm there not to learn to dance, but to try to pick someone up. I know it all sounds crazy, but I've known a lot of crazy people, many of whom thought the worst of me even while desiring me, and I'm good at navigating around my issues, shall we say.

Okay, goal is to hunker down and get stuff done so I can get out of here as quickly as possible.