Smoke Monster

I'm all about weird phenomenon. I always hoped that that was what I was. There was that night when we were about to head out to Tyler or Longview and because of the way I was dressed my grandmother asked:

Mimi: (laughing) Starr, Why did you pick us?

Starr: What?

Mimi: When you were flying around up in the sky why did you pick this family?

Starr: (confused) I don't know. Alright bye.

[Starr and Alan leave]

I remember sitting in the car and asking you if she had just accidentally revealed that I'm the alien child that I always thought I was? Later I realized that based on her belief system she meant that before being born I was an angel flying around Heaven looking for a cool family to hangout with. The idea of originating as an ethereal angel was a wicked idea but the hard fact was that I was merely human (although I now find this to be quite miraculous as well).

But back to weird phenomenon.

The other day I had a little crisis. I got so stressed I smelled like campfire smoke. Like the kind of scent that you get after a weekend long Boy Scout campout. That smell that you have to wash out of your clothes. Except for a flannel shirt. You just air those out so you keep that good, smokey essence. And it wasn't like a cigarette smoke smell, like I'd been at some bar in Longview listening to Myra Mayns. It was that good wood smell from the trees and leaves we'd burn in the fires. This was the most stressed I had been in a long time, maybe ever. The people around me at work smelled it as soon as I walked in the room. I had just walked two blocks from the point of my stress. No buildings, or gutter trash were on fire out in the street. There was maybe the smoke coming from a hot dog cart on the way back, but this wasn't just in my clothes from briefly walking through dissipating smoke. It was sweating out of my skin. I went to the bathroom and and washed my head and arms. Took some deep breaths and went back to work. A very short time later the smokey smell went away.

So I started thinking. I knew what caused the stress. I did. I let myself get worked up and let the flood gates open. It was business with a mega corporation that sparked it. I controlled it very well since I was in a place of business and didn't yell or scream even as I walked back to work. And then I thought I must have been pretty pissed to start sweating out something that smells like smoke. Like some defense mechanism written into my genes from eons of evolution. So what would happen if I got that mad again or even angrier? Would I actually start smoking? And if so, could I get even more upset so that I actually catch fire?

I will not try to prove this idea right (or wrong). I mustn't. But oh, if I could...

Weird is the word I use when I can't think of anything else

This city can be weird sometimes. Or maybe it's me that's weird. Maybe we're both normal and weird things just happen to us. Maybe there's nothing weird about any of it.

My friend Kent had a photo opening last month. I attended. It was a beautiful night. His photos are great. Well lit and framed. And calm like the ocean on fire. I won my favorite in the raffle that night. It will hang in my kitchen.



What is weird about the city is the MTA's attempt at structural enhancements in the subway.



I was really late to the game concerning lolcats. But recently I've been more into them. They combine my two favorite things: cats and gonzo journalism.



My friend Laura gave me that one.

Sometimes weird can be dangerous. Like at my temp job.



But I've always thought weird was cool.



Starr

I heart me

How I spent Valentine's Day.

I woke up. Made a good breakfast. Bagel with cream cheese, eggs, bacon, oatmeal, coffee sweetened with brown sugar and an orange.

Saw a friend's show.



Then I went home.

Then I went to a show at the Ontological-Hysteric Theater by The Theatre of the Two-Headed Calf. I liked it. I would like to work with them someday.

Then I went to Finnerty's just a few blocks away. They used to have a shot of whiskey and a PBR tall-boy for $6 but not anymore. I texted my friend Eric who I calculated was probably the only guy I seem to know right now that is not in a relationship. He was out with some other friends of ours celebrating a birthday. So I went there and hung out, played pool, watched the Olympics and drank Guinness.

This weekend I also painted my nails black and was wearing eyeliner.

About Time

So I'm finally writing a post to make good on my promise to update this blog and keep Alan entertained from thousands of miles away. Making Alan laugh was my only goal in high school because it made me laugh too. So with all the years I built up laughing with him I hope to break even with all the years I've been killing during my time in NYC.

So here is my State of Starr address: a year ago I quit my perm day job. I hated it. It was sucking the life out of me. I hated my boss and I hated myself. The only thing keeping me sane was the theatre I'm always doing. So I leaped out of that into two weeks of sweat inducing voluntary unemployment until some temp jobs, carpentry and lighting jobs started coming in. And somehow I survived in one of the worst economic times of this century. I lost weight. 30 lbs. Even with my moderate to heavy to drinking.

Losing my dad was the only thing that really took its toll on me. 61. Stroke. A man I'd only known 12 years...due to family history. Loss. But I'm getting to know my brothers better and that whole side of the family that I never met before. New aunts, uncles, cousins, nephews and a new grandmother. Even a set of extended family I'm not related to...due to family history.

Everything is going to be ok.



I saw this at a museum in DC the last time I visited Cody and Jean.

And Alan, I'm going to be an uncle again. They are having a baby due in July-ish.

The State of Starr is good.